Good Morning Greetings {PhAn} [Completed]

Forgettable

I close my eyes as soon as I open them. The lights are so blinding. And god, this headache is not helping.

Did I drink last night?

How forgettable of me.

I look around for any signs of drunk behavior. Probably not.

My hands trail up to my forehead and touch it. I'm only slightly warm, but that's normal, so I'm not sick.

I get up, only to stumble back down pathetically. "Shit-tastic!"

"Dan? You alright there? Are you hearing the neighbors again? I have a pair of earphones you could borrow."

His voice gets nearer and I try balancing myself again. "I'm good! Don't come in! Not in this state..." I mumble.

Despite my protests, Phil walks in my room and looks down at me in shock. "Dan! You're not 'good!'" He touched my head and retracted. "You've got a fever, you twat!"

I pout and sniffle. "Liar. I do not."

He pushes me back onto my bed. "You're sleeping in for today. You. Are. Sick."

I sit up and collapse. "Nuh-uh."

"Yeah, you are."

Phil throws the duvet over my face and sits on bed, smiling slightly. "You're always so childish when it comes to fevers."

"That's cause Daniel Howell doesn't get sick, duh!"

I sneezed.

"Keep telling yourself that, Mr. Howell. Now, just-" he made some weird motions with his hands. "Just lie down. I'll go make sick food stuff or whatever."

I pull the fabric down, only to have half my head pop out. "I said I'm fine."

He sniggers. "I don't think your fans have seen you at your cutest yet."

I straighten up. Did Phil just say what I think he said? "Repeat that for me?"

"I need to get you some medicine. For the time being, you just rest. Don't put weight on your shoulders. I can take care of you. And don't start cooking."

I whine, deciding to let the previous topic go. "But you manage to burn the things in soup, or even the porridge itself!"

He blushes. "I'll call Pj! Don't worry about it! I won't burn the house down!"

Phil leaves the room, leaving me alone. Was I really that ill? No. I was in perfect condition yesterday. I'm sure it's not that bad.

My desk, which used to only hold my digital clock, had my phone, a glass of water, and a thermostat lying on it. I roll my eyes.

This isn't a fanfiction, Phil. No need for the water.

Pushing the liquid aside, I grab my phone press the home screen, it's light flashing on and showing me my missed notifications.

Strangely enough, there was a text from the Queen. The Queen of YouTube.

'Sup, Dan. Just a short text letting you know that I'll be coming over to your place in about a week!

Btw, I'd love to make a video with you and Phil someday!

I text him back saying it would be fine for him to over, but that I'm sick and there's no guarantee I'll be okay by the time he's here.

I'm sure it'll work for the better! K, bye! I gotta go!

I sigh. He's coming over, is he now? Great.

I should just go to sleep like Phil said. I am still tired. Just a bit. I'm sure I'll wake up before he gets back.

•☆•☆•☆•

I wake up to the smell of smoke. I hear a loud shout from outside the door. "Phil! Is that you?"

He opens the door and enters the room. "Everything's fine."

I yawn. "Doesn't sound like it. You burnt something didn't you?"

"How'd you know? Wait! I mean, definitely not! No burnt counters here. It's all nice and clean."

"Phil."

"..."

"I can smell it. Even with my fucking stuffed up nose."

"Dan! Was that really necessary? You didn't have to cuss!"

I groan. "Did you get me any medicine? Or any that don't taste like corpses?"

Phil threw a packet at me and nudged the water towards my bed, kneeling beside me. "It all tastes like corpses. There's no brightside."

My face scrunches. "Yay. Tyler's coming over, by the way."

Phil put his hand on my forehead again. "It's that so?" He frowned. "Why's that?" He grabbed the thermostat and stuck it my mouth. "Is he visiting?"

I manage to speak with the device. "Mhmm."

It beeps and he takes it out. "When is this going to happen?" He frowns again.

"A week from now."

"A week? Here, drink. Well, at least he gave us that much. Did you tell him you were sick?"

I nod, swallowing the pill and gulping down a mouthful of water. "He said I'd most likely get better by then."

Phil tilts his head and stands up. "I think so. Look, why don't you go change into something warmer? I made food, and if you need to borrow a jumper, just go on to my room and grab one."

"But it's already kinda warm in here!"

"Yeah, but you're sick."

I cross my arms. I toss my legs to the side of the bed and trudge over to Phil's room. Why is there so much color? So bright, and blinding.

My arms reach out to his cabinet and open it, pulling out a random jumper to wear. I walk back over to my room and quickly change, throwing his piece of fabric over the clothes.

"What did you make?" I ask, sitting down on the chairs around the table.

Phil turns to me. "Just soup."

"What kind?"

He lays a bowl out in front of me and places his hands on his hips. "Cream of broccoli. I like the taste. It's pretty good, if I don't say so myself."

I pick up the spoon he holds out and take a sip of the hot liquid. "I like it. Thank you."

"No problem."

•☆•☆•☆•

"Go to sleep."

"I don't want to."

"Dan, you're sick. Do you want me to stay by your side until you fall asleep? I will do that if I have to."

"Phil?" I call out quietly.

My head starts hurting again. The setting swirls around and I groan.

"What's wrong?"

"I need-" I plop down on the matress, giving up the fight. "I want to tell you something."

Phil leans towards me and his eyes widen. "What is it?"

"I really, really..."

"Yeah?"

And the whole world turns black.