Sighs and Fire (Phan AU) (INCOMPLETE)

(1.12)

ONE YEAR LATER

On my bedroom wall at home there's a growing photo collection, most of them taken from single-use cameras with their film developed, the others taken on phones and printed from my local library.

I had always loved taking photos. I didn't do photography, it was more capturing moments I lived so I could remember them a long time after and remind myself these things happened. I'll admit I hadn't taken photos in a while, it had been almost years since I last picked up a camera, but that changed when Phil came into my life. I treasured the time we spent together and the proof was all over my walls.

At least half, well, ok, truthfully, 90% of the photos are of Phil or Phil and I or just me. Those photos where the focus is on me I'm reluctant to put up, but Phil stuck them to my wall when I wasn't looking. But here I was, taking each one down and smiling at every memory they held before carefully storing them away in a folder and then packing it away in a box, closing and taping it shut and writing 'WALLS/PHOTOS' on the top.

I step backwards and admire my handiwork. Some of my room is packed away in cardboard boxes but the rest was either sitting in charity shop stockrooms or in the rubbish bin outside waiting to be collected. The wardrobe is empty, the desk is bare, there's a few Blu Tack stains on the walls and some things on the floor I'm not sure what to do with yet but other than that, I'm nearly there.

There were a few essential items that I hadn't packed yet, like deodorant and my toothbrush and a fresh set of clothes, but I'd be needing them in morning before the move.

The move.

Moving in with my other half.

Moving in with Phil.

Phil, with a freckle on his thumb and some alcohol in his system suddenly suggested it when we were watching a film together, before screaming about the cat that came on screen. And I, still stunned by his idea hours later, woke him up before the sun rose the next day, my head spinning but mouth whispering 'let's do it'.

Phil responded a grunt but wrapped his arms around me before falling asleep again, but I was too excited at the concept that I stayed awake all night.

We took it more seriously after that though, so I finished school and instead of continuing education I found a part-time job in a coffee shop for 20 hours a week. It was a job that I didn't love but didn't really hate either, paid just above the minimum wage but it was enough to get me by. Get us by when I eventually moved in.

We couldn't decide where to live at first. Phil wanted to start somewhere new, but his apartment was big enough for the both us, it was central enough, the rent was cheap, his contract still had another 5 months and why are you so desperate to get out of here anyway?

Ok. Fine. We'll stay here, then.

And at last, tomorrow, it would be happening.

Getting out.

Becoming free.

And when I thought about Phil, (which to be honest was all the time) I knew I wouldn't want take the next big step with anyone else or do it alone.

I didn't tell anyone else but my mother and brother that I planned to move out. To be honest, it's not like I did have anyone else to tell, but I knew what they would've thought: too soon, too young.

But when I thought about Phil, (which to be honest was all the time) I knew we were certain. I knew this would be good. Moving in with Phil would be good.

Phil, my one and only.