The Youtuber Inn

We're Alright

(Dan's POV)
January 3, 10:00 am
*trigger warning*

The door swung open, and Phil set two bags or groceries on the counter.

I felt dizzy.
It was like there were two giant blocks of metal on either side of my head, slowly and forcefully closing in on my brain, preparing to completely shatter my skull. I kept trying to swallow my tears down, but my throat was too tight. My throat was too tight, my chest was too sore, my eye lids were too heavy, and my cheeks were glued to the comfort of my pillow.

"Phil." I choked out.
No reply.

"Phil, please stop ignoring me."
Still no reply.

I felt awful. Ever since our fight about Grace, phil hadn't spoken to me, smiled at me, looked at me, nothing.

But what did I do? What did I possibly do that made me deserve this? The thoughts rushed through me unfathomably fast, almost as fast as things went wrong.

I turned my head over to face Phil, tears burning down my cheek.

"Phil, please."

His eyes met mine.
There was a moment.
A precious moment of care, a precious moment of love and confusion,
A precious moment of "sorry."

His eye brows arced up in guilt and empathy, and then the moment ended, and it was back to unloading groceries.

My heart dropped.

I pulled myself up, now sitting in the bed and looking directly at Phil, watching as he stacked boxes of granola bars on the counter as if it was all that mattered.

"Could you at least tell me what I did?" I asked.
Absolutely nothing.

"Fine."
I shrugged, moving from the bed and into the bathroom.
I shut the door and tugged on the small knob attached to the gleaming white shower tiles on the wall, causing long strings of nearly boiling water to eject from the shower head.

I pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it on the floor, followed by my jeans and underwear.

The water was hot.
Very, very hot.
All the steam made me feel sick, but I didn't make the water any cooler.
I soon found myself doing that thing I do when I think to much, when i get completely submerged in a pool of thoughts that often don't make any sense but for some reason i see them as absolutely terrible things terrible terrible things that are bad and that are mean and all of those terrible things make me feel awful.

For a moment i thought I was crying, but I really couldn't tell if it was my tears or the blazing water of the shower streaming down my face.
The terrible thoughts combined with the nauseating steam made me feel incredibly sick, so i shut the shower off and stepped out.
I snatched the pale blue towel off of its metal rack and quickly tussled my hair with it.
I glanced at the mirror and noticed I had stubble growing in.
I grabbed my razor.

Gently grazing the small blades over my shaving-cream-covered chin, the tiny hairs began to dissapear.
The terrible thoughts, however, did not dissapear.

Phil doesn't want to speak to you.
Phil doesn't want to look at you.
Why would he want to do either of these?
He probably never really has.
He probabaly was faking it the whole time.
He was probably faking it, just like you, but you both have been faking very different things.
You know what you've been faking, Dan.
We all know what you've been faking.
But even if you stopped faking, it wouldn't do much good.
Phil's straight, dan. And he'll never love you the way you love him.
Face it.

The next thing I knew there were tears streaming down my face and I had chucked my razor against a wall, shattering it.

---

I stared blankly at the loose blade from the razor, and suddenly realized I had begun twirling it through my fingers. When exactly I picked it up I was unsure of.

I held the small blade delicately in my finger tips, the terrible thoughts bashing against my brain.
Tears slipped down my cheeks as I moved the blade to my wrist.

Phil will never love you the way you love him.

I began to apply pressure to the blade, leaving a small slit on the edge of my wrist.

And then I heard the knock.
The knock that saved my life.

I dropped the blade at the sound of Phil's voice.

"Dan? Dan are you alright? I'm sorry. Please don't hurt yourself. Please."

I wiped my cheek with my thumb and unlocked the door, swinging it open and revealing Phil, who wore a small smile and apologetic eyes.

His eyes moved to my bleeding wrist, and he flung his arms around me.

"You're alright." He said. I smiled, hugging him back.
He pulled away from the hug and held my shoulders, looking me right in the eyes with a perfect curve in his lips.

"We're alright."

He pulled me in for a kiss, both of us smiling into it.

We're alright.

(PHAPHANPHAPHANPHANPHAN ok hi theres that. I tried to be emotional and feely for this chapter did it work 🆗🆒. Writing this was really hard and I felt bad in a way idk idk ok i hope you enjoyed and tySM FOR 6.69k (wink wink) BUT THATS AWESOME! IM ALMOST AT 7k AND THERES STILL 9 WEEKS OF SCHOOL LEFT AND MY GOAL WAS 5K BY THE END OF SCHOOL ILY GUYS! MUA!)