He Is My Everything

Chapter 4

Dan's POV + Demons - Imagine Dragons (that is the song for the chapter, if you haven't figured it out and there will always be a link to it)

"Hey, Dan." I flinch, as I wasn't expecting for Phil to be out of his room. I turn to face him before remembering about my shower last night. I quickly tug the sleeves of my jumper over my hands and smile weakly at him before he continues talking. "Making some tea?"

"Yeah, I was before you gave me a heart attack!" I place my hand on my chest in mock hurt. I walk back into the kitchen with Phil following close behind. He sits down at the table while I finish brewing my tea. We talk about random things before he trails off and I stop the awkward silence before it starts.

"You want some, Phil?" He goes seems to be lost in thought for a few seconds before coming back to reality and replying to me.

"I'd love that." Although he seems distracted, I don't mention it. I pull out two mugs from our cluttered cupboard. I watch the steam come off of the brown liquid as it fills the cups. I sit Phil's down in front of him then walk back to my room to retrieve my laptop. We sink into our "assigned" sofa creases. I'm on Tumblr whereas Phil has gone with a more sophisticated option, a book.

I reach over to the table and grab my warm mug, cherishing the heat it gives off into my hands. After taking several small sips, not wanting to burn my mouth, I set the cup back down onto the table. I resume my browsing through Tumblr and let out a small chuckle when I see an amazing edit of Phil's head photoshopped onto a lion. I lift my head to tell him to look at this post, but I stop immediately when I see his hands coming up to his face, wiping away tears.

"What's wrong, Phil? Why're you crying?" My expression is filled with agony. He looks hesitant but answers me anyways.

"Dan," he is interrupted by a sniffle and stops to wipe his tears away, "have you ever self harmed?" I can feel my tears already starting to build up, my lungs collapsing in on themselves, my breath getting caught in my throat, my whole world falling apart. He knows, he found out somehow. It's my fault, I shouldn't have cut on my wrist. I'm so fucking stupid.

"I-I just don-n't know what I'm going t-to do." My voice is strangled and I have to gasp for air. Phil scoots closer to me and wraps me in his lanky arms. I'm grateful for his warm embrace.

"You're going to be okay, Dan. We'll work this out together." He rubs his eyes, trying to stop the tears from flowing. He looks hurt, just like I knew he would be. Yet, I still did it because I'm selfish. Now Phil is hurt and it's all my goddamn fault. Then he asks the inevitable question. "Why?"

I can't comprehend my sadness. To try to put the massive amounts of anguish I've felt, into words, is like trying to count every grain of sand on every beach that has, is, and will exist. I look up at Phil, and I can only imagine the colossal quantity of misery reflected in my eyes. Phil looks away and I feel even more self hatred than I did last night. He's hurting and I'm to blame, everything that just happened is my failing. Some fans may think I'm perfect, but Phil just witnessed my biggest flaw. And I hate myself for it.

"I feel so lonely all the time. I feel like nobody cares about me. I'm never asked 'Are you okay, Dan?' or 'What's wrong?'. I've gotten so good at hiding my emotions because nobody would care anyways." My sobs become deafening as I explain all my pent up feelings. "And to think, I was almost a month clean." The expression of heartache that was clear on his face, becomes even more prominent as he realizes how bad I've really gotten.

"Dan," he finally meets my eyes again, "I care about you. I care a lot. This is all my fault. I'm sorry I hadn't been there for you. Please try to stop. I'll do whatever it takes. I'll walk over 1000 miles of broken glass barefoot if it means you'll be okay. I need-" I cut him off because I don't need to hear anymore. My arms encase his fragile frame, never wanting to let go. I am reluctant to tell him this next part, but I know that if I want to get better, I'll have to confess.