Ephemeral

Effete

And my body's weak, feel my heart giving up on me,
I'm worried it might just be.
And my body's weak, feel my lungs giving up on me,
I'm worried it might just be.
Something my soul needs.
- Flesh and Bone // Keaton Henson
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The wind bit at his exposed face as he walked, his beaten up old converse with the worn out souls beating against the dirty pavement, the heel of the shoes making a somewhat hallow sound as he'd neglected to tie them properly, and now his feet were slipping and sliding and the once white laces trailed pathetically behind him like the rest of his life.

Huh. What a morbid thought.

But Dan wasn't paying attention to those. This was the first time he'd gotten to walk home in years, why would he waste time dwelling on his raggedy old shoelaces when he could waste it staring intently at the back of the person's head a few blocks ahead of him.

Yes, this was what Dan's life was coming to.

Borderline stalking Philip Lester.

Borderline - because technically Dan lived in this direction. Phil was just following him, but in front. Every time the black haired boy turned the same corner Dan would soon be turning, his heart did a stupid little skip and dance in his chest. Partly because he'd get to stare at Phil Lester's back for a while longer, and partly because with every turn, there is a high chance that Phil could notice him out of the corner of his eye and be severely creeped out and possibly never talk to Dan again.

Which, in hindsight would probably solve Dan's impossible-bound-to-go-wrong crush on the boy - yeah, somewhere along the way, Dan had figured that tad bit of disastrous information out - but some sick part of Dan really liked the idea of becoming a ticking time bomb of mushy feelings and emotions and unavoidable death.

Dan's body ached from walking for so long, even though the walk was really only about 20 minutes, his energy was just about running on zero and the initial adrenaline rush and thrill of being able to walk home for the first time in literally forever was dwindling.

Dan was envious of Phil's energetic stride, he practically bounced on the balls of his feet as he walked and his arms swung by his side like he hadn't a care in the world. Some days, Dan thought that Phil carried the world on his shoulders, but today, it seemed like the only thing he carried were the clothes on his back and his school bag.

Dan swallowed, Phil had just turned into his street. Dan racked his brains, trying to figure out why Phil would be on his street. He couldn't recall his mother telling him anyone had moved in, although, there were a lot of things he couldn't recall. Phil could just be passing through? But, no! He was opening the door to number 8, two doors down from Dan. He hadn't knocked, which must meant he lived there.

But what happened to Miss Julie? The kindly old lady that lived in that very house and gave Dan sweets and baby sitted him as a kid? Was she alright?

Dan's head was reeling, trying to find a reason for Phil being there. She'd never mentioned any grandkids, his mum would've told him if she'd died, and she would have came to see him if she was moving.

Suddenly, Dan hated walking home. He hated the wind on his face and his chattering teeth, seriously, it was January and he hadn't even worn a coat! His mother was going to kill him if he got sick, hell, if he got sick, she may not even need to.

Stop it.

Dan rushed towards his house, fumbling with his keys as he hurriedly unlocked the door and slammed it shut behind him. When Dan's mum had called and told him that she was working late and would have to get a lift home with Pj, he'd rejoiced. And when he'd made the decision to not ask Pj if his mum would give him a lift, and told him to go ahead to his after school art club, he'd felt so relieved.