phan one shots

vanilla icing

Summary: Dan is depressed and hasn't left his room for three days, only living off of vanilla icing, and Phil is there to take care of him

TRIGGER WARNINGS: depression

Dan had been locked in his room for three days.

That was three whole days of Phil barely seeing him, only catching glimpses of his slumped figure when he stumbled into the kitchen at 3 am, scooping mouthfuls of chocolate ice cream out of the tub before returning it to the freezer and disappearing again.

72 whole hours mostly Dan free.

72 hours without his pretty laughter spilling from his supple strawberry stained lips.

72 hours without his breath taking dimpled smile that left his heart stuttering in his chest.

72 hours without running his fingers through his light brown waves of crescent shaped curls.

72 hours without his rosy cheeks, dotted with occasional freckles.

72 hours without his comforting voice, his intoxicating vanilla scent, the sound of him swearing loudly when he clumsily tripped over his own feet, the feeling of his long slender limbs pressed against him, hand resting on his thigh, or tracing his gentle features.

72 hours.

72 hours of pure hell.

He was worrying himself sick, stomach churning, hands twisting and twisting and twisting, cotton candy lips painted in a distressed frown, eyebrows pinched, ebony hair a mess on his head from tearing his hand through it.

He was losing his mind without his boyfriend.

They were practically inseparable most of the time, and even though they were in the same house now, Dan felt so far away from him.

And Phil knew what was going on behind that door.

He knew Dan was probably severely neglecting his own needs, drowning in an endless sea of his own thoughts and crushing voices, waves of self hatred and unraveling sadness crashing over him too fast for him to swim to the surface and breathe.

He knew Dan was going through one of his depressive episodes, when he isolated himself as of it could contain his destructive demons, and hid from himself and reality.

Not eating.

Not sleeping.

Not even drinking anything.

And Phil was over it.

He wasn't going to let Dan waste away all by himself until he woke up to a world drenched in color again.

Phil was Dan's boyfriend.

More than that he was his eternal lover.

That, he knew for certain.

And he needed to take care of him when Dan couldn't take care of himself.

So, after contemplating how exactly to approach this particular situation, pacing backwards and forwards in the lounge mumbling to himself, he finally brainstormed a game plan.

Before he could second guess himself, he walked slowly up the stairs, bare feet barely making the sound against the steps as he tried to tip toe to Dan's bedroom without him knowing.

Because if he knew, Phil knew for sure that he would hold the door shut for as long as it took for Phil to give up just so he couldn't see his true state.

He quietly shuffled down the hall, and pressed his ear against the white painted wood of Dan's door, trying to catch any noises coming from inside.