TW: Mentions an alcoholic parent and blood.
Phil's POV
The sky was dark. You didn't need to be a weather man to know that it was going to rain. But, Dylan wanted to go to the park, and would throw a fit if I told him no now.
I was walking behind Dan, who was pushing Dylan in the stroller. I told him which way to turn, seeing how he didn't know how to get to the park.
"Turn left, and then just walk until we reach my apartment," I say, hoping he remembers where my apartment is.
Dan is tall. Taller than me, but not by much. His hair is brow, and straight. I'm pretty sure he straightens it, seeing how I found his flat iron in the bathroom that morning. His eyes are an amber brown, that sparkle when he smiles or laughs. He's quite attractive, really.
But that's not important, really.
"What next?" Dan asks when we reach my apartment.
"Turn right, the park is at the end of that road," I say.
"Yay, yay, yay!" I hear Dylan chanting as we head towards the park. He doesn't seem to notice the dark clouds sneaking closer and closer.
We reach the park, and stop at a bench. "So, what do you want to do, Dylan?" I ask.
"Swings!" he exclaims.
"Then, to the swings we go!" Dan says. He makes rocket ship sounds as we walk over to the swing set.
When we get there, Dan lifts Dylan out of the stroller and puts him in one of the baby swings.
"Who do you want to push you?" I ask him, walking towards the swing.
"Dan," he responds after a moment.
Dan pushes him while I sit on a bench, watching. Dylan is giggling every time the swing goes back.
"Phil, come swing!" Dan yells. I shake my head. I see Dan stop Dylan's swing to whisper something in his ear.
"Please Phil!" Dylan says, making puppy dog eyes. I can't say no to that. I laugh and walk over to the swings. Dan and I take turns pushing Dylan until he decides he wants to do something else.
"I wanna play in the sand box!" Dylan screeches, as the swing comes to a stop.
"Okay," I sigh as I pick him up. I hate the sand box, but I really don't want to deal with Dylan throwing a temper tantrum.
Dylan toddles towards the sand box as soon as I set him down. I notice that it is sprinkling as Dylan starts to play in the sand.
"We're going home soon, Dylan. It's going to rain," I say strictly.
"Okay," he responds, not fully paying attention to me.
"Do you guys come here often?" I hear Dan ask me.
"I'd take him here when Heather had hangovers. She would go get drunk at least once a week. In fact, she broke up with me because I told her she should go to rehab. I've actually called social services on her, and I'm hoping they take him out of her house, so she can get better," I say sadly. I hate to think about how awful it must be for Dylan now that I'm not there to take him out of Heather's hands.
Before Dan can respond, it starts pouring.
"Come here Dylan! We need to leave now!" I yell to him. I hope he doesn't start crying.
He runs over to me. Well, he runs about halfway to me, and then falls on the pavement. He immediately starts bawling.
"Dan, get his stroller," I yell as I run to grab Dylan. I lift him off the ground, and I see blood dripping from both of his knees.
YOU ARE READING
Kill Phil (Phan)
Fiksi PenggemarDan was born into a family of hit men, and a week after his 23rd birthday, he's sent out on his first kill. But, he ends up in a situation that would definitely make it difficult for him to exterminate his victim, Philip Lester. Will he please his...