Fifty shades of Phan

Chapter 12

I watch out the window as Phil's taxi drives down the road, taking a sharp turn at the end of the lane, turning right into the abyss of London.

There's this movie called Beverly Hills Chihuahua, and a certain scene when Chloe gets put on a train, and her friend Delgato leaves her, anyway- the train races off, and you see Delgato instantly regret leaving Chloe, and the next thing that you know is that this big, strong German Shepard is racing after the train, in order to tell Chloe that he loves her in the friend way.

Which is exactly what I'm doing now, except I have to tell Phil I like him more than friends.

Holy shit, I'm actually running. I think to myself, as I lock eyes on Phil's taxi, Phil deserves to know how I feel,

I have to tell Phil I love him.

Unlike in the movie, I am extremely slow, and this running through London to get to Phil seems to happen a bit to frequently for my liking,

"PHIL!" I yell hopefully, in case the Taxi is parked for petrol close by, and Phil has his window open... I don't know, it's not impossible!

"Move!" I scream to a swamp of pigeons, which are cluttering up the pavement.

The birds flutter away, and I continue to charge after Phil's taxi. I get to the junction quite close to my office, and I am greeted by a pack of taxis, finding Phil's taxi would be impossible!

HOLD UP

"Daniel James Howell you bloody genius" I mutter to myself, whipping out my phone and tapping in the password.

I scroll along to the second page, where 'find my friends' app is installed, which theoretically is an app based on stalking people- which is exactly what I need to do right now.

"Mum, no- Granny, no- Uncle Peter, no- AHA! Phil!" I remark, as I scroll through the contacts displayed on my screen, tapping Phil's name.

The screen starts to load, and after a few seconds a little green marker pin points Phil's location,

"22 Sekforde street, Islington" I read off my screen, "Where the fudge is that??"

I aimlessly review the area, I knew this was Islington, but that's about it.

"TAXI!" I shout, doing what I do best, being lazy,

"22 Sekforde Street, and step on it!" I instruct, as the taxi whizzes off after Phil.

I keep my eyes glued to my phone screen, and sure enough, we draw ever closer to Phil,

"here we be" The man chuckles, pulling up into a lay by. I can see a light on and instantly know that Phil is near,

"Cheers" I nod, handing the driver a tenner, and he slowly pulls out and drives on along the road, the tires making a crunching noise as they roll over the tarmac.

I approach Phil's door and hold my fist up ready to knock, wait, is this really a good idea? What if Phil doesn't want to see me?

I look around at the attached house and spot a fire escape attached to the house,

"A perfect break in for burglars" I giggle, as I begin to drag myself up the metal ladder.

The second I reach the top, and have fully recovered from my death defying climb, I peer through the window which had the light on, and there is Phil stood in his pyjamas dancing around with his toothbrush hanging out his mouth,

"too risky climbing in here" I ponder, and I look along a bit further to the next window, which conveniently is opened a crack,

"here goes nothing" I murmur, and I roll in through the small crack in the window, landing with a hard thud.

I go into instant meerkat stage, perking up listening out for the slightest sound, ready to scamper into the shadows.

I hear footsteps and I limply dive behind a standing mirror, scrambling the rest of my body into cover just in time before Phil re enters his bedroom.

I peep through the gap in between the floor and the mirror, and watch Phil clamber into his double bed, room for two, and admire his facial shapes as he slides his glasses onto his face.

Phil nestles up under the covers and I start to find it amusing that the boy is completely oblivious to the fact that I'm crouched behind his mirror.

I start to get heavy headed as Phil reads his book in bed, but occasionally he lets out a short giggle at a section of his book, lifting my spirits at his adorable chuckle.

After a few minutes Phil removes his glasses and places his book back on his bedside table, I slightly sit up, unsure on what to do now.

I start to pull myself up, but being 6"3 makes my length extremely awkward (Oh shush you dirty minded people)

"He-" I start,

"Goodnight Dan" Phil whispers, and I freeze in my tracks, Shit he knows I'm here. I peep round the mirror so I'm looking at Phil, but I realise he's already asleep,

"goodnight Phil" I reply, smiling at the adorable boy, cuddled up under the bed sheets.

I slowly tip toe out Phil's bedroom and slide down the banister, as I used to do when I was four- Which I admit, I do still occasionally do...

I venture into Phil's living room and curl up in a ball on Phil's sofa, draping my coat over me for heat.

For a while I just lay on the sofa, staring up the stairs, secretly hoping for a slight bit of movement to tell me that Phil is awake, but alas, nothing.

"How will I know? (Don't trust your feelings), How will I know, How will I know (love can be deceiving) How will I know, How will I know if he really loves me" I sing part of the chorus to Whitney Houston's song, which I feel matches the occasion reasonably well, and it wasn't soon till I was off into a peaceful slumber...