Agitated, annoyed, and irritated, Dan stumbled out of bed. He hoped Phil didn't wake; he didn't want him to. He was annoyed with Phil.
Dan hadn't done a thing for himself these past two weeks, and it was finally getting to him.
His dad's death had passed. Phil had demanded cuddling and eating all day to keep him occupied.
His dad's death, Phil not letting him do anything, and worrying about who called the police and told he was suicidal made Dan feel crazy.
When he was sure Phil wasn't awake, he walked into the kitchen to make himself breakfast.
He got out the milk and cereal. He poured himself a bowl, and grabbed it with his right hand. He slowly started to walk until-
He dropped it. He groaned once it hit the floor, glass shards going everywhere, as well as milk and cereal.
He heard footsteps.
"Dan?" Phil tiredly rubbed his eyes. Dan rolled his eyes.
"Everything's fine. Go back to bed," he told Phil, grabbing a paper towel.
"Oh. Dan, it's okay. I can get it."
"It's fine, Phil. Please just go back to sleep."
"Dan, you won't be able to-"
"Just go back to bed! I don't want your fucking help!" Dan shot his gaze directly at Phil. Phil froze. "I'm not fucking helpless! I can do things myself!"
Phil bit his lip at Dan's harsh language.
"I-I'm sorry, I just thought-"
"Well I don't need you to think. I don't need you to do anything but leave me alone!" Dan regretted the words the second they left his mouth.
Phil had tears threatening to fall from his eyes. Dan would be full on crying if the positions were switched, so he had no room to judge.
"Okay, bear." Phil's whisper was so quiet Dan almost didn't hear it. Phil walked into the hallway. A door closed, and Dan sighed.