An unforgivable kind of love (Completed)

An unforgivable kind of love- chapter 5

The next few weeks were normal, well as normal as Phil could call it.

He was hunched over the breakfast bar, shovelling down a bowl of desert dry bran-flakes because Dan had again forgotten to replace them milk. But Phil was starving so this didn't really matter, and Dan was out so that made the atmosphere a lot less tense.

His body was sore and aching from last nights antics, and Phil had brought it upon himself to try and let the memories fade or just completely vanish from his mind - just so he could get on with his day reasonably okay. But every move he made, his stomach would ache from the constant jabbing he endured in last the evening before and the dark circles under his eyes made it all too clear he was drained of his need to sleep.

He was content when he cleared the bowl, even if it let a parched dry feeling settle in his mouth; at least his stomach was satisfied.

So then he clambered up to his feet, wincing at the slight pain that ravished around his abdomen. He hauled his achy body to the sink, rinsing his bowl off and setting it on the draining rack.

There was a sudden click, which made Phil still and furrow his eyebrows; head twisting around in curiosity.

And sure enough, Dan came padding in, an expression of grimace clear on his face.

"Did you um, have a nice time at Peej's?" Phil promptly asked, a coy smile setting on his lips as he made his way over to Dan, ignoring the sharp, jigging pain in his body.

Dan just nodded plainly.

"It was great, until he brought that Chris over and to be honest i'm seriously not fond of the bloke." He shrugged and Phil forced out a smile in hope to show he agreed with Dan's bitter opinion.

"Kendall, I know,"

Dan's lips pressed together.

"Exactly, I don't know what Peej sees in him to be honest, utter bellend if you ask me," he lulled, tossing down a newspaper he'd probably acquired from one of the dingy corner shops around the area.

Phil just chuckled at the remark, his face clearly beaming because this is the first they have spoke on a civil level in months and that makes him happy because if Dan doesn't show him affection maybe he can class this as it in some weird and needy way.

Because he loves Dan and despite anything he will do anything for him, and he still gets butterflies erupting in his stomach when Dan drips out some kind of positivity with him.

"Cup of tea Phil," Dan ordered, perching down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, parting his hair back but letting fall down as he flipped open his morning paper.

And Phil just nodded and smiled sweetly like he always does, turning on his heel and padding to the kettle, letting it fire up as he prepared a mug and some sugar and-

There was no milk.

Phil dragged his lower lip between his teeth, hesitating to tell Dan because he didn't want to spoil the mood but he couldn't exactly whip up some milk here and now could he.

Phil inwardly cursed to himself for not going out earlier and replenishing the fucking milk.

"Dan there's no milk, I'll go buy some now" Phil quickly rushed out, departing from his spot as he scattered nervously around the kitchen for his coat.

Dan watched flatly, clearly not impressed.

"Didn't you think of that earlier you stupid little shit?" He suddenly snapped and Phil quickly shrugged his coat on and merely avoided his poison eyes. The tone was usual and cold and what Phil feared the most.

It was as if all the life just got sucked from the room, being replaced with the dark, gloom and scorching fire.

"Sorry, I'm sorry I didn't know I-"

But Dan was anything but daft, eyes falling on the draining rack and an empty bowl made it obvious that Phil was a liar and Dan suddenly realised where he'd faltered, face paling as Dan rose to his feet.

His hands took the bowl, and Phil just watched; hypnotised and fearful of the whole act as Dan chuckled low and menacingly in his throat, hand smoothing over the expensive dish.

"You know Phil," He began, thick and threatening voice making Phil shudder as he turned to face him. The bowl was held firmly in his hand and Phil's eyes were stuck on it, anything to avoid Dan's sharp gaze.

"I really don't appreciate liars, you of all people should know that."

Phil nodded sheepishly, truly regretful as he kept his gaze now locked with his feet; still seemingly frozen to the spot.

And suddenly a loud smash cascaded the room and Dan lunged at him, as if all the energy in the room had driven into his body and plastered him with adrenaline. The bowl was shattered to pieces on the floor and Phil couldn't process what was going on until he was hurled against the wall, a familiar fist punching him right in his already-sore abdomen making him keel over and cry in agony.

Dan simply let his lips tug into a half-smirk, kicking some of the shards of pottery towards the whimpering boy.

"Clean that up you stupid fuck, then get my milk."

And then he was out of the room and Phil tried to keep standing but the pain was too overwhelming and he just slumped down to his knees unwillingly, the sharp blades of pot slicing through the fabric of his jeans and cutting against the flesh of his knees.

Tears of pain just spilled from his eyes and stained his cheeks and Phil just sank further into a crumbling mess.

How did his life ever get to this?