Silence

Ignition

[Pt. 4. 1845 words. possible tw: f-slur]

The remaining hours of the night were rather blurred together. Barnum and Phillip's stroll back to his apartment was just as quiet as the first one. Phil hated it, he'd gotten quite used to the showman's babbling about random things on their walks. Like the time he pointed out the certain washroom he heard Lettie singing in for the first time. He could remember this story word for word by now with how many times he'd heard it from Barnum.

Now it was just silence. Awkward, deafening silence. It was like torture to Phillip. Listening to P. T. get lost in his own world of stories was one of his favourite things in the universe.

"Hey, Phin?"

"Yes, Phillip?"

For a moment, it was silent, again. Phillip didn't even know what to say. He just wanted to hear Barnum's voice.

"Do you ever wonder what would happen to the circus if you left it?"
What a stupid question. Yet it was the only thing he could think of at the time.

"I don't think it would change rather that much. I have a very talented partner that could take over for me, don't you think?" Phineas gazed down at the younger man with the brightest smile. The one Phillip knew and loved. That grin alone could solve all of his problems in an instant. Though Phillip kept his mouth shut, only adverted his eyes to the pavement. "Oh, c'mon Phil, cheer up a bit."

Phillip scowled. How could he really say that to him right now? "Cheer up? Cheer up?! Charity just fucking died! How are you so unbothered by this?!" Phillip spat, voice echoing through the empty streets. Some part of him wanted to punch Barnum in the face. He was so ignorant of this situation. He clearly didn't care, if he was the reason it happened or not, but Phillip couldn't bring himself to actually do it. He sighed. "...Sorry."

Barnum only ignored that too. He hooked his arm around Phillip's waist as they walked. "Why do you ask that?" He questioned, tone ten times calmer than it should've been. All Phillip could do was shrug.

"Well," Barnum hummed, drawing small circles into the other's side with his forefinger. His lips curled up into a smile. "you don't have to worry about that. I don't believe I'll be leaving for a long time."

--+--

The next morning Phillip woke up with Barnum lying next to him in his bed. It would most likely end up like that for a while until P. T. either went back to his home or found a new one to stay in for the time being.
"Morning, Phil," Barnum mumbled, his morning voice raspier than it's usual. He was probably still half asleep. Phil gave a half-hearted wave in his direction but nothing else. He had an awful headache, the only thing spinning through his mind were thoughts to go back to sleep, but he knew they had to get up for work still. It felt almost as if he was hungover, aside from the fact he hadn't had one drop of alcohol the night prior. He dragged himself out of his warm sheets. "How'd you sleep?"

"Terrible." Phillip snapped back, shuffling out of the bedroom and into the small bathroom across the hallway. Barely any time passed before he heard Barnum's footsteps approaching behind him. His reflection in the mirror showed him leaning against the furnished doorframe. "I'm sorry about last night. I know it freaked you out and all." P. T. apologized, a sad look on his face. Phillip didn't know how to reply to that. He couldn't just out and say that he thought it was his fault. That he believed that he killed Charity. What if he was wrong? He'd probably never speak to him again. Barnum sighed heavily. "You do whatever you do in the morning, I'll wait for you outside, okay?"