Powder [phan]

VII

When our eyes met, he broke down, started crying and I just hugged him, told him that it is alright, that we will fix it. We had to fix it, I didn't even care how we would manage to.

"Get some rest, Dan. I'll be right back." I said after a few minutes, after I was sure that he calmed down. He just nodded, and I kissed his forehead before he laid down again and I left the room.

Dan's POV

There has never been a day in my life when I didn't want to see Oliver. Oliver was like a brother to me, has looked after me since we first saw each other. He had accepted me into his family. Oliver wasn't always that cold, logical asshole. He could be emphatic if he needed to be. But even today I didn't want his empathy. I didn't want to see him.

Even so, he was sitting next to me and there was absolutely no way to avoid this conversation. Phil had left saying he would get us coffee. I understood that he didn't want to be here. Oliver had probably also told him not to be there.

I just sat there, trying to avoid his eyes at all costs.

"How are you, Dan?" He asked after ages of silence and I swallowed hard, started pulling on the sheets.

"Fine, I'm fine." I lied, obviously. I wanted him to go. He should go home thinking it was just a stupid accident. I wanted to go home. With Phil.

"Dan, it's time to stop lying." He said it gently, probably Phil had told him not to be too hard on me. I still couldn't look at him. In vain I tried to hide my tears, looking the other way all the time.

Nothing bad had ever happened to us. The worst thing he might have to go through with me was when I was nineteen and had alcohol poisoning. And now we were sitting here, just two years later, and I had overdosed. Tried to kill myself.

We both probably didn't know how that happened. I was always happy, really. I had hope, saw everything in the bright light, even if something didn't go according to plan. Oliver was always proud of me. We had achieved so much together. We started small, with silly videos, until we succeeded and even moved to London.

And now we were here. At the lowest point.

"I'm sorry Dan." I heard him say and only then did I turn to him. "I'm sorry I didn't notice that something was wrong. Maybe I noticed it and just ignored it because I thought it was all right. I'm sorry Daniel."

"It's not your fault." I just said, feeling like someone was choking me. I wanted to throw up. Fortunately, I haven't had any withdrawal symptoms yet, or they have been dampened by all the medication.

"Why did you do that?"

"Doesn't matter." I shook my head.

"Doesn't matter? Fucking hell, Daniel, you almost died. You would be dead, gone. Then what would we have done, Dan? What would I have done?" I swallowed hard. Sometimes I actually forgot how much I meant to Oliver. Actually, most of the time I felt like a burden he had to carry around because someone had to do it. But here he was with tears in his eyes as he told me how much it hurt that I just wanted to leave.

"Now tell me what's wrong, so-"

"I know I fucked up, I know. And I'm sorry, Oliver. I'm so fucking sorry. But I can't tell you what happened. I can't. Really." It just bubbled out of me. In fact, he was silent, didn't dare to try again, and I felt the one tear that found its way down.

I was really sorry. I looked down again, played with the covers. I saw my hands shake, but it wasn't the withdrawal. I was just scared and I didn't even care because I was scared all the time.