It's not just you - Phan (completed)

Back home

It has been two weeks.

Two weeks since Vidcon, two weeks since Phil told me, two weeks since we last spoke.

The last thing I said to him was in the hotel room as I was packing my suitcase, zipping it up frantically and throwing clothes in Phil's direction. Three words, signifying the break in our relationship, 'we're going home'.

I had booked us an emergency flight back to London, announcing on Twitter that there was some family drama and we were unable to attend Vidcon, and that we were sorry for any inconvenience. If anybody asked what had happened I had the plan to tell them my dad had been emitted to hospital after having a heart attack, just so I didn't have to tell them the real reason. Thankfully, nobody asked.

Once we were home I immediately shut myself in my bedroom, falling onto my bed and groaning loudly, my heart twisting as I heard a small sigh from the corridor, followed by a muffled: "congratulations you fucking idiot."

The first week I spent camped out in my room, as did Phil. I had been grocery shopping and bought myself enough food to last a week, so the only moving I'd have to do was to go to the toilet. My plan to avoid Phil worked, as I didn't see him at all that week, and all I heard from him was the muffled sound of him making a video apologising for not being at Vidcon, and then continuing to waffle about some crazy lady he'd encountered whilst shopping.

I guess we'd both had the same idea.

In the first week I also recorded a video, rambling incoherent trash about existence and the meaning of life. Thus proceeded the tedious hours I spent procrastinating before finally getting my arse up and editing the video. I watched Phil's video in private, with my headphones on and the volume at a minimum, just so he wouldn't know what I was doing. His voice made me smile, and the usual fuzzy feeling that I got that managed to always make the hairs on my arms stand up came back.

All in all, the first week was successful.

However the second week was a little different.

I decided I needed to get out my room a bit, as I was beginning to feel a little claustrophobic. So I began making use of the house we had bought two years ago. Every room was freezing, and everything was in exactly the same condition it was when we left eight days ago. The only difference was it didn't feel like home anymore.

After turning on the heating and making myself a cup of coffee, I decided to camp out on the couch for a few hours. Those few hours turned into six and it had gotten progressively darker. My only worry was I hadn't heard a peep from my roommate.

The next day I decided to record a video for the gaming channel, without Phil, to make use of my time. I sat in the office for three hours, stretching out my arms and legs whilst groaning once finished. Before I got up, I listened to the sound of feet padding down the hall quickly, causing a frown upon my face and my legs to push me up quickly and to the doorway. However when I looked out, the place was a barren wasteland.

I bumped into Phil the next day.

It was in the kitchen, as neither of us were looking where we were going, and I was trying to leave as he was trying to enter. I didn't look up until out the way and out of sight, sighing with relief as my body relaxed and the tension left my shoulders. I prayed then for it to never happen again.

Phil didn't make a video that week.

By the next Monday I was sick of our behaviour. We were acting like children in a playground refusing to play together. One of us had to talk eventually, and that person was going to have to be me. Until Wednesday I was sat waiting on the stairs to our office, just sitting and waiting for him to come out of his room to get food or to go to the bathroom; but he didn't. However I didn't want to go up to his room and demand like that, I wanted him to come to me.

On the Thursday, he did leave his room, but as soon as he saw me, he froze. I wished we had have said something sooner.

Phil's eyes were red, dark bags under his eyes and his face paler than usual. His hair was bed ridden, greasy and swept back to the side so it wasn't in his face. His glasses rested loosely on the bridge of his nose, wonky and slightly bent. His shirt, a dark grey, drained him out further and his pyjama pants drooped low on his waist. What scared me more was his figure. It looked as if Phil hadn't eaten at all for the two weeks, it adamant on his features and the fact his arms were a lot thinner than they were before. His jawline was more prominent and his cheeks hallowed slightly, but everything else was covered.

I stood up. arm outstretched as I began to step cautiously towards him. Phil took a step back, and I shook my head slowly.

"It's okay, I just want to talk." It felt like I was talking to a child, slowly and calmer than the usual raspiness of my voice, my moves timid compared to my mind which just wanted to run up and jump him. Phil took a step forward, his toes crinkling before he sighed, beginning to walk towards me, head down. I met him halfway, both of us stopping just inches away from one another, Phil's hands in fists.

I sighed, tilting his head up with my index finger on his chin, my head tilted to one side. "Look at you." I whispered, eyes watering slightly. "Why did I let you get this bad again?"

"It wasn't your fault." Phil whispered, voice broken and raspy, as I'm sure he hadn't spoken since the video he had made. "And please don't start apologising, I don't think I can take it." He added, and I bit my lip harshly, sucking in a breath.

I took the risk, leaning forward and bringing Phil in to an empowering hug, crushing him as he limply held me back, obviously a bit confused. I stood there for a bit, not wanting Phil to see me cry as the tears silently fell down my cheeks. I could feel his rib cage under his skin, and his shoulder wasn't comfy anymore. After I had built myself up and wiped my eyes clear of any tears, I stood back up, smiling weakly at him.

"You're not leaving my sight this week." I murmured, placing my hand on his cheek as Phil smiled.

"Thank you."

"I'm sorry."