Phan Oneshots

Rain

//This is just something I've had ideas for, for awhile and I really wanted to get it out of my head. I don't know if I like how descriptive it is but again that's what I wanted to do, so oh well//

Adrenaline.
Foggy wind blows fiercely through the treetops, making bark crack under the pressure.
Rain is thrown in all directions as the wind whips around.
Rubber makes a pitter patter against the pavement as he runs, but the rain drowns out the noise. It washes his cries away like watercolour on a drowning canvas. He runs down the side of the road, allowing his salty tears to mix with the clean water falling from above. His breathing is heavy. He heaves, feeling the cold and damp air fill his lungs. His once straight and brown hair is now wavy and looks a dark chocolate colour. His curls are blown back from his face as he starts to slow his pace. The brunette flinches as he feels thunder shake the ground, leaving nothing but a high pitch ring in his ears. He bolts as yellow cracks through the grey skies of London like glass being shattered. As he sprints along the dampened pavement, he notices a boy sitting outside on the balcony of his house. The now soaked boy shudders from the misty air. As he stops to catch his breath, he makes eye contact with the boy on his balcony. He looks to be painting, but instantly stops all he's doing when their eyes meet. The brown eyed boy stays still, feeling the rain melt through his clothes and soak into his skin. He needs to find shelter. The black haired boy abandons his painting, running through the door and out of another one. His shoes pitter patter against the pavement too, but the sound is hidden behind a clap of thunder which causes both boys to jump. The black haired boy reaches the soaked brunette and pushes his coal black hair out of his eye. "You're soaked!" The damp boy nods as he feels the water drench his bones. "How far away is your house?"

"At least a t-thirty minute w-w-walk." The boy stutters as the coldness seems to shoot down his spine. "Lord that's a long walk. You're so cold... Do you want to come in and wait for the storm to blow over?" The taller boy hesitates momentarily. It certainly would be a strange question to ask, but he's so cold he doesn't want to walk another thirty minutes. He's already too cold and tired to run. All he can produce is a nod, which the stranger takes instantly and slings his arm over the drenched boy. "Here. Do you need help?" He nods shamefully, but takes the help anyway.

As both boys step inside, the shorter boy shuts the door and rushes to the brunette just in time to catch him from falling over. "Woah! Hey are you okay?" The boy catches his breath and stands onto his feet, wiping his nose on his sleeve which causes water to drip onto the floor. "Stay here a second. I'm going to get you a towel... or, four." The stranger runs upstairs presumably to get a towel as the brown eyed boy stands, dripping water onto the wooden floor. Seconds later the black haired boy runs back with a pile of towels and throws one around the tall boy's shoulders. "Oh my god. You're literally ice." The brunette shivers and looks at his shaky hands which are almost a blue colour. The stranger gasps and gently holds his shoulders to keep him steady. "Okay, come with me. I'm going to make you some hot chocolate but you need to get into the shower. You're so cold." The shaky boy watches as darkness flashes around the sides of his vision. He doesn't want to faint. But he's so cold. What seems like hours is only a couple minutes, but the stranger opens the door to his shower and helps the taller boy in. "Keep your clothes on okay? Just let the water warm you up." He feels so bad for intruding. He doesn't want to be a burden. But he's too cold to repent. He nods weakly as warm water pecks gently at his skin. Nothing is heard but the sound of water and thunder booming against the tile walls. The tall boy groans as the water warms his skin. It's not a comfortable feeling but it's better than freezing to death. The black haired boy sits on the toilet next to the tub and ruffles his own hair with a towel, leaving a stranger to defrost in his shower.

Half an hour goes by and the brunette feels his skin tingle from the change of temperature fade. The stranger had left him a dry pair of clothes and went to do something while he warmed up. The brown eyed boy feels guilt tickle his skin. He still feels bad for intruding and worrying this boy, but he's still grateful. He could've died if he hadn't helped him. He gets out and turns the shower off, getting dry and into the new clothes. Now looking into the mirror above the sink he sighs. He hates how red his face is. He knows it's from such a drastic change in temperature, but to him it's ugly. The tingle is still there from being so cold, but he's no longer feeling like ice. As he opens the bathroom door he hears footsteps near him. He's met with the stranger from earlier who wears a simper on his pale lips. "Warmer?" He nods awkwardly. "Y-yeah..." the stranfer's sinper turns into a smile as he speaks. "I put your clothes in the dryer. Do you want to come sit?" The taller boy is astounded. How and why is he being so nice to him?? "Uh.. sure yeah." He's lead to a lounge area where there's a sofa and two chairs. The black haired boy sits on the sofa and pats the vacant space beside him, which the brunette takes gracefully with a small smile. He instantly breaks the silence. "Hey uhm... I really appreciate you helping me out. I probably could've died if you didn't help me there." The stranger giggles which sends chills down the brown eyed boys spine. "It's no problem really. I just hope you feel better." A silence fills the room, but it's not an awkward silence. It's a comforting one. "Oh and, I'm Phil by the way." The brunette's smile widens at the unusual name. "I'm Dan." Both boys smile awkwardly as the situation settles in. "So Dan... why were you out in such a storm anyway?" Dan sighs and rubs the back of his head. "Ha well it's kind of a lame story really." Phil scoffs and raises a playful eyebrow. "Talk about a lame story? I was painting outside when I saw you. And I don't know about you but everyone else thinks that's kind of a lame thing." Dan hums and shakes his head dismissively. "Really? I thought it was pretty cool. I mean I was a little too cold to really think much of anything but y'know." Phil giggles again which brings Dan's smile back to life. "So?" He motions for the story he so desperately wants to hear. Dan chuckles and sighs in defeat, knowing he'll have to tell him. "Well I was kinda supposed to meet someone for coffee, but after I walked like forty minutes and sat in the shop they never showed up. So I started off home but then the storm came so I started running. The rest is history now." Both boys laugh but Phil thinks for a moment. "You couldn't call a cab?" Dan shakes his head. "When I got to the shop my phone had died. So I was pretty much out of options." The silence returns momentarily and Dan puahes his still wet hair out of his face. "Well whoever stood you up missed out. You seem like a nice guy. Plus they left you to run home in a storm. Cant get much worse than that." Dan feels his face warm a little, but he knows that his face is red anyway so it wouldn't be noticeable. He jumps as thunder clashes like cymbals. He feels himself start to shake again, but not from the cold. "Are you okay?" Phil questions the fragile boy. "Y-yeah... the thunder is just really loud." Phil nods, then looks out his window to see the rain falling gracefully now instead of bullets. "Hey. I still need to finish my painting. Do you wanna come sit outside with me? There's a little roof thing so you won't get wet." Dan smiles wholeheartedly and nods. "Sure."

As Phil sets down a chair, Dan looks at the painting sat on a wooden easel. It's the buildings in front of the balcony, with rain pouring down from the musty grey skies. The buildings are only a little more than halfway done, but the use of colour, or rather the lack of, sets the scene to look as real and gloomy as it is. "Here, you can sit if you want." Phil points to the chair as he sits in front of the canvas. Dan obliges and sits in the vacant chair. "I really like your painting. It's really realistic, especially for watercolour." Phil smiles as he swipes a brush downwards to continue a building. "Thanks! I've always wanted to paint rain like this. It's kinda basic but it's different from what I'm used to."

***

Neither the blushed brunette or the snow skinned noirette realized the hours that had passed like pale ash flowing through their fingertips. Phil had tilted the canvas so Dan was unable to see the painting. However, as the musty grey sky faded to a navy blue, and the colours faded to black. The two boys are sat under a dim light on Phil's balcony, with wind whisking through Dan's now very curly hair, and tiny droplets planting small and delicate kisses upon Phil's cheekbones. The stars are speckled across the dark and damp sky. It's so peaceful that Dan had forgotten about the storm and how cold he had been. Phil on the other hand, had not strayed his mind from the boy sitting next to him.

As Dan inhales the chilled air, Phil beams. Dan notices his sudden movements. "Dan?"

"Hmm?" Phil sets his brush into his cup of water and takes hold of the sides of the easel. "I'm done. Wanna see?" Dan nods and Phil turns the canvas to face him. Although the light is dim, Dan can see the painting enough to see the whole front view from the balcony. However, the sky isn't dark and littered with stars. It's s stale grey with yellow shattering all it surrounds. The buildings are little houses of what seems to hold little families. The only sign of life are lights shining through window panes, and pretty little flowers being pelted by bullets of rain. The road is dark, but the headlights of passing cars gleam across the droplets that cover the street. Beside the road is pavement which is the main part of the painting. Because standing there in the middle if the scene,
Is Dan. Drenched to the bone, with an unknown jacket around his shoulders. But Phil is there. Holding an umbrella over their heads.