Love Me Again

Chapter 11- Mismatching socks

Dan's POV-

It was a couple of weeks later that Phil had almost finished watching ever single video we had filmed, together and seperately. He watched all of the vlogs we filmed and the challenges and everything. At night I would hear our voices through the walls and Phil laughing and I would sit outside his door to try to identify what video it was. Sometimes I would fall asleep on the floor and he would discover me curled up, shivering in my sleep. Other times I crawled back into bed and slept until late afternoon and in the evening we would sit down together, watch the videos on the TV, and I would almost tear up at how happy and close we had been. Phil got a little embrassed at himself at first but eventually took to the idea of makng videos and asked if he could give it a go. I told him to watch me first as I needed his help and we set up the green screen and Timmy and I made my leather shirt into fake boobs. Phil sat behind the camera, watching me with sparkling eyes, and at the end he walked right in front of me so the camera caught a shot of his below. Thank god he was wearing pants. After wrapping up the video and transeffering it to the editting program, we ate and then went to bed, where again Phil watched videos and I strained to listen.

That morning I found Phil lying on the couch, very much alseep, with Tokyo Ghoul on. It was the last episode. I loved Hide! So Phil had secretly been watching Animé before I wake up every morning... I sat down on my sofa crease by his feet, which bore mismatching socks, and turned the Animé off. I couldn't bare to watch it again. Wondering what to do, I read a few phanfics and made myself breakfast before scrolling through Tumblr. The fans were still wishing Phil the best. So they had heard that he was suffering amnesia. Of course they had.

After hours of doing absolutely nothing, I went to check on Phil but he was still alseep, this time spread out more across the couch. He must've had a bad night sleep, or was up all night watching our videos. He was turning into a phangirl. I gently stroked his fringe back from his head and his fingers twitched by his nose, as if sensing I was there.

"Dan?" Phil mumbled, eyes still closed. "Sing me a song Dan."

Confused, I knelt down next to him and thought, What song? Not a lullaby, ew. One came to my head. It was one I loved and he, too, had loved. Maybe he remembered it. " Stuck in the jet wash, bad trip I couldn't get off and maybe I bit off more than I could chew, and overhead of the aqua blue fall to your knees, bring on the rapture. Blessed be the boys time can't capture, on film or between the sheets, I always fall from your window to the pitch-black streets-"

"The Kids Aren't Alright." Phil muttered, and his tone was delighted. "I remember."

Joy fluttered though me and I continued: " And with the black banners raised, as the crooked smiles fade, former heroes who quit too late, who just wanna fill up the trophy case again." I glanced down and saw Phil was asleep, breathing heavy and fingers lose on my arm which he had been holding. " And in the end, I'd do it all again, I think you're my best friend. Don't you know that the kids aren't al-, kids aren't alright?" I stood up, my singing done for the night, but the rest of the lyrics echoed in my head: And I'll be yours, when it rains it pours, stay thirsty like before. Don't you know that the kids aren't al-, kids aren't alright? This kid isn't alright, I thought and rubbed the tears falling from my eyes. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much Phil comforted me, he still couldn't remember a thing of our life together. Not even whilst watching the videos. He said he loved me, but did he? When he gets his memories back, would his old self have loved me? Or were we just best friends to him?

For the rest of the day I edited my video, and I even included the Phil part as a joke. Just wait until he saw that. I uploaded it, giving it the title 'Audience Participation Fear' and Tweeted that there was a video uploading. Instantly replies streamed through and I tossed my phone aside to avoid having to reply to them all. Most would just be like Emoji clues?!?!? or YASSSSSSSSSSS or Cool. and I couldn't be bothered answering any of them. It was half six at night when Phil finally dragged himself into the kitchen for food and asked what I had been up to. I showed him the video as we munched on leftover pizza and he punched my arm playfully when he saw himself.

"Dan! Why did you put that in?" Phil asked, reading the comments.

"Your laugh at the end was cute." I remarked. "And it was just funny. The fans loved it."

Phil said no more on the subject and finished his pizza shortly after me. He took the plates to the sink and came back to me flicking through Netflix. "What you wanna watch?" He asked, and I selected Miranda. "Oh, I remember that! But I haven't seen the ending."

"I'm glad, because that's what I want to watch." I patted the seat next to me and he sat in it, taking my hand. His touch sent a tingle down my spine and I tried to control my rapid breaths. But that was hard when my mind was going ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod and Philphilphilphilphil. "S-so you remember Miranda?" I asked casually, attempting a distraction.

"Yes." Phil chuckled. "Dan, your heart is racing."

"Um..." I tried to pry my hand out of his but he held it tight.

"Don't, please." He begged and I stopped. We relaxed into each other and I closed my eyes. I was so tired and Phil's steady rhythmic breathing finally pushed me into a land of sweet dreams and no worries. If I had not been hopelessly in love with my best friend, I would never have wanted to wake up.