Ninety Nine Days - Phan (Boyxboy)

Chapter 2

Dan's POV

I screamed and threw Phil's lion across the room and watched it hit the wall opposite me. Tears ran down my face as I shouted and cursed. I shrieked as I let my anger out on the things around me. I hated being in the flat, I hated seeing everything that was ours, I hated it all. I didn't want to see anything that Phil had touched.

I was so angry I didn't even notice my phone buzzing on the counter in the kitchen. I continued to completely trash the place and, when I was done, I let out one final scream and looked around the flat. I wandered back into my room and studied the mess. The mattress had been thrown off the bed and the sheets were spread out across the floor.

Then I went into Phil's room, which I had also wrecked, and stared down at the mess I'd made. All of Phil's lion toys were lying on the floor; dints in the walls; TV smashed and left in the corner of the room. His sheets were in a pile on the floor and his whole room was trashed. Apart from his laptop and his beloved camera. As angry as I was, I still loved him. I couldn't do that.

I returned to the living room and stopped in the doorway. I froze and looked around. I gulped as my eyes set on the upturned sofa, the coffee table at the other side of the room, upside down, and the piles of smashed plates and mugs covering the floor. I was done. I moved to a corner of the room and curled up, sobbing loudly. It was over. It was all over. I didn't mean my anger either, I meant my relationship. The relationship I had with Phil felt like how the apartment looked.

I looked around for Phil, thinking he'd be standing at the door with blankets and hot chocolate like he had been before. I was hoping he'd come back and sit with me while I calmed down, quickly grabbing my arms and tucking them back under the sheets when I lashed out. But he wasn't there and it was my fault. I was sure he'd cheated. I was so sure, and now he was gone. I didn't even care that he'd cheated anymore; I just wanted my Lion back.

A lump started to form in my throat and I whined like a puppy. Why the hell did I always have to ruin everything?

Phil was the best thing that had ever happened to me, and I'd gone and thrown everything away. I knew he'd come back. I just had to wait. Tears fell down my face - one at a time - and left red patterns down my cheeks as they went. I wiped them away when they turned cold and curled up tighter. I couldn't bear to see what I'd done to the place. I choked on a sob and brought my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on them and letting out a shaky sigh as I did.

I wondered where Phil had gone (and if he even had a plan) and thought hard. He'd left me before, once, when I'd acted in a similar way as I had done this time, because he knew it was safer for both of us if I was angry. But other times he'd just sit with me, usually behind me, and wrap his arms around me. I wasn't dangerous to him; I'd never hurt him. He just got upset and neither of us liked him upset.

He'd kiss my neck and talk calmly to me and I'd listen and feel comforted just because he was with me. I realised he must have felt unsafe - possibly more unsafe than other times - and that was why he was driving off into the dark instead of cuddling me.

I didn't deserve him. He deserved someone better. Someone who wasn't as uptight as me and someone who didn't accuse him of things... Things he hadn't done. I thought, maybe, just maybe, he'd made a lucky escape. Maybe he'd find someone like that and he wouldn't come back.

I stared at the doorway, waiting impatiently for the door to open and a shadow to shuffle into the flat and that familiar face to peer around the open door and give me a sympathetic smile before turning the sofa the right way up and joining me in the corner of the room. I waited for his scent to fill the room and for his arms to wrap around me to comfort me, but gently because it was Phil and he was the gentlest person I knew.

But he didn't come. I started to panic, and I could feel my breathing getting faster and faster; my heart pounding as I shot up and looked around the room. Hot tears felt like they were burning my skin as they left my eyes but I didn't wipe them away.

I grabbed my phone and looked down at it, my anger suddenly rising as I saw I had missed three calls from someone. I tried to calm myself down before I answered the fourth call, but my hands were shaky and my voice was cracked and I was crying. I ignored the call.

I let out a huge sigh as I paced up and down the hall with my head in my hands. When I felt a little bit better I staggered back into the kitchen to check for texts, calls, anything from Phil. The only thing that he had left in the kitchen was Striker, his favourite lion; which seemed to stare straight at me with questioning eyes that asked, "why?"

I gawked at the lock screen. Nothing. Nothing but four missed calls. I studied them hard and realised they were all from the same number. Oh God. What if it was important?! I waited another two minutes for them to call back, and just stared at the screen. And, of course, they didn't. After what felt like hours of waiting, I quickly dialled the number back. My fingers rushed over the numbers and my hands began to shake again.

"Hello?" I started awkwardly.
"Is that Dan Howell?" The voice on the other end asked in a rather rude tone.
"Um... Yes... Who's calling?"
"Your friend, Phil... Lester... He... He's been involved in an accident..." The voice stammered and my eyes widened.

"...What?"
"Phil. Your friend Phil. He's-"
"Where is he?!" I questioned, trying not to sound too panicked. He gave me the details and I dropped my phone and ran down the stairs and out of the building.

I screamed Phil's name and prayed that it wasn't too serious - and received a few concerned looks in return at my sudden outburst of his name - as I rushed down the streets. It was quite far away but I still ran. I ran all the way there. Tears streamed down my face as I turned down the street where Phil was supposed to be and as soon as I saw the blue flashing lights I knew it was bad.
"Please let him be alive."