suicide hotline / phan

25

*THIRD PERSON*

Phil cradles Dan in his arms as he usually does every early morning, Dan's hair twisted between his fingers. Last night had been eventful to say the least, and honestly Phil's just grateful to be able to still have the small moments they share. Although they indeed were small, they remind Phil that they're relationship is still intact no matter how broken they both are. That's something Phil knows they'll always still have, even if they lose everything else.

"Phil?" Dan groans tiredly, shifting around slightly to face him.

"Yeah?" Phil smiles, the morning sun hitting his face just perfectly.

"Morning" He smiles back, putting a hand up to his hair in an attempt to push it back.

"Morning" Phil whispers, trying to avoid any conversation that goes any further than small talk.

That's what they've both resolved to- not talking about anything much in hope that nothing will get brought up. Yes, it needs to be talked about. But not now. Not after last night. Phil knows that behind the fake smiles Dan's not okay, he's far from it, and it only eats away at his brain throughout every agonising minute. It feels like they're dancing on the edge of a knife, and one wrong move and things will break.

"I don't wanna get up" Dan groans, shifting around on the mattress.

"I know" Phil mumbles. "But we have to; the place is a wreck"

Dan groans even more, taking the pillow and shoving it over his face. Phil smiles, pushing the pillow back off of his face to reveal messy hair and a tired smile.

It's terrifying how much can be hidden under a smile.

"Come on you goose, we need to get up" Phil says, tugging on Dan's arm and attempting to sit him up.

"Goose?" Dan laughs. "Since when have you started calling me goose?"

"Alright, is Danny any better?" Phil teases, knowing how much Dan hates nicknames.

"NO!" He states simply. "No pet names"

"Mkay" Phil mumbles. "Then I guess there'll be no more use of the word dadd-"

"Oh my God Phil!" Dan scolds, throwing his hand over Phil's mouth as Phil erupts into laughter.

"And oh look! You're up! We may as well get going then!" He says, smirking in triumph as Dan rolls his eyes.

"Fine" He says in defeat, rolling out of the bed and pulling on the first shirt he sees.

He's decided that although things might not get better, he can at least try to make the most out of the small things. He's praying to every god he doesn't believe in that if the little things start to add up, he'll find some sort of way to fix the storm inside his head. After all, he doesn't want to give up, that's the last thing he wants. But he also knows there's only a certain point he can reach before he breaks, and he's far past that point already. Everything he does now is for Phil and only Phil, because he knows how much it'd hurt him if he died, he knows how heartbroken he'd be. And, although he can see no reason on earth why it's possible, he knows that Phil loves him. It's a constant battle in his head- one minute he's thinking of how much he's corrupting Phil by staying, the next minute he's thinking of how heartbroken Phil would be if he left. But he doesn't want to die, he's never wanted to die, so he's going to do everything in his power to stop it from happening. He's going to fight until he reaches breaking point. He wants a future with Phil, he wants to grow old with him and be with him forever, but not if it's like this. Not if it's going to be this unbearably painful. Because that's just what it is- unbearable. Every day feels like another struggle, every second gives his mind more time to create new insults to shoot at himself. It's like knives are carving words into his brain, and he's soon going to drown from the blood.