Misfit (Phan AU)

Chapter Fourteen

*Phil's POV*

"So are you able to come in? If not I could always just leave it closed today, Mondays are never all that busy." I explained dismissively, trying to play my request off as something casual now that it seemed he wasn't going to be able to meet it. Seconds ticked by with only the sound of Anthony's short steady breaths on the opposite end of the phone line, but other than that it was silent enough I caught myself wondering if the connection was shorting out. When he finally spoke I was almost wishing it had, the familiar words rolling off his tongue and enveloping me in an overwhelming feeling of deja vu. We'd definitely shared far too many conversations far too similar to this one as of recent.

"No, I'm free today, but that's not why I'm hesitating. You've been to work one time in nearly two weeks, Phil, are you okay?" I inhaled deeply as he finished the question, until my chest puffed out and I physically couldn't draw the action out any longer. Even then I still wasn't completely ready to respond, fidgeting around further and lifting a hand to muss up my hair, following that up with shifting further back on the bed until my shoulders met with the wall. I leaned all of my weight back against it then, my feet dangling just barely over the edge of the mattress. I took a slight comfort in watching the way they swayed back and forth i the air, before the sound of Anthony blatantly clearing his throat reluctantly drew me back to the present.

It's not that I didn't know what to say, I'd planned handful after handful of excuses and lies for this very reason, almost to the point it was overkill because surely no one would be that persistent to know why I'd locked myself away in my room. No, it wasn't from lack of words to say, it was due to the guilt that ate away at me upon saying them. I wasn't naturally a dishonest person, it'd always been easier for me to share my thoughts and feelings and own up to my mistakes than to bottle them away and deal with it on my own. I wasn't a prideful person, if someone was willing to lend me a hand when I needed it and share the weight of my problems, I'd never been anything but thankful for their generosity.

But something was different with this particular situation, the thought of explaining my current state or seeking help from anyone else sent uncomfortable shivers down my spine. Perhaps it was because I couldn't piece together why I was so upset in the first place and that intimidated me, possibly because I suspected anyone I told would jump to conclusions about why I was so set on befriending my flatmate (their opinions on my motives were the last thing I wanted to hear when I wasn't even sure of the real reasoning myself), or maybe it was solely due to spending so much time around the pessimist Daniel Howell.

For over a week now I'd been insisting to myself that it had to be the last option, but realistically I figured that was more out of the lingering spite I felt toward him than any actual facts I had to go on. Obviously I wasn't an expert or anything, but I doubted a couple hours with him throughout one day could completely shift my outlook like that, though I was happy to pretend it could if it meant an excuse to point fingers in his direction and make him out to be an even worse person than he was. It's not like I was actually proving anything, but it made me feel a little bit better about my friendship attempts being so completely shut down if I acted like he was the biggest jerk to exist and hadn't even been worth befriending in the first place.

At the same time though, it wasn't just anger I felt, or I would be out there working my butt off fueled by the frustration. No, as much as I wanted to punch that indifferent dull look off his face (which seemed like an awful lot, considering I've never wanted to punch anyone at all before now), I wasn't exactly out there doing that. I was cooped up in my room, pouting constantly, avoiding him, ditching all responsibilities, and sleeping through most of my days childishly. I felt drained and disappointed right down to my bones, the conflicting emotions messing with my head even more than Dan's mixed signals had.