Misfit (Phan AU)

Chapter Sixteen

(i hate beginning author's notes as much as u but when Dan goes to buy the stuff for Phil's arm he goes into kind of existential crisis/pondering life purpose mode and if u arent feeling up to that rn thats okay!! dont read that!! I just know sometimes I wouldn't be in a place to read stuff on the topic so idk thought I'd give a little heads up ily)

*Dan's POV*

"I can't believe you made me do that!" Phil exclaimed loudly, the peppy statement more than enough to turn a couple heads. However, he'd definitely abandoned the precautions he'd shown around the people populating the mall earlier, now he didn't even seem to notice he'd piqued their curiosity. In fact, he only seemed to have eyes for me as he bounced along clumsily a few steps ahead, looking back over his shoulder to laugh or give another quip.

I tried to listen to each of them, I really did, but my mind was swarming faster than his lips seemed to be moving, which was saying something considering the childish way he was rushing through comments on the ordeal we'd just experienced. Even if I didn't manage to catch every single thing he uttered, I did watch, the way his eyes were lit up so bright they nearly shone and the way he had to pause in the middle of sentences to force himself to stop smiling or laughing.

Even though he had his eyebrows bent up in a reprimanding expression, there wasn't a trace of genuine anger toward me to be found. If I asked him to go back there and get more photos done for the hell of it, he'd probably agree. I didn't know why that fact made my stomach swoop with pride like I'd achieved something great, but I was starting to reach a conclusion that I'd be better off not trying to work out the 'why' of how I felt around Phil.

"-Hey, let's sit here!" I'd just barely managed to register what he'd said, considering the suggestion was tacked onto the end of one of his many other rambling sentences, before he was grabbed my arm and yanking me down to sit in one of the many benches decorating the landscape of the mall. My back collided with the wooden rest of the chair and I gave a hiss of air through my teeth, eyes narrowed in a hostile glare as I turned to watch the way Phil scooted further away from me down the seat, eyes wide like he was worried his careless actions had somehow soured the moment.

I grit my teeth as I stared at him, a snarky comment on the tip of my tongue, just begging to be uttered. But when I opened my mouth to scold him with the bitter condescending tone I usually used when he'd messed up, I didn't recognize my own tone of voice, nor the words I was speaking without any prior consideration. They just kept tumbling out and I was left to just cringe mentally as I was unable to react physically. It was like verbal diarrhea, it just kept spilling far past the point I wanted to slam my jaw shut and stop speaking.

"It's fine, you don't have to look so nervous, I know it was an accident." I assured softly, like I was now the one trying not to upset him. I though that was the end of it, I hoped that was the end of it. It wasn't so much the words I'd said in specific, more the sensitive wimpy tone I'd spoke them in, one that sounded completely foreign to my own ears. I was nineteen years old and I'd never heard myself use such a considerate gentle tone in my life, it was pathetic.

Apparently though, I hadn't tortured myself quite enough yet, because just as he nodded his confirmation of hearing the first regrettable statement, I was hurriedly blurting another one over top of his reply. It's not that I'd planned on it really, my actual plan had been to keep my jaw stitched so tightly shut I'd hopefully never say another thing to him again, but things obviously didn't go as I'd hoped.

In my efforts to force my eyes away from him in a chagrined show of nerves, they'd somehow ended up staring unimpressed at the stretch of space between us on the seat. I don't know why it bothered me so much, but the longer I stared the more it irked me. The fact it irritated me at all was concerning, but even worse so was when my lips seemed to move on their own accord to voice the unwarranted opinion, something I never would have admitted aloud in a million years had I been in my right mind. "A-And you can sit closer too, you know, I don't bite."