Demonic // phan

Twenty One

This chapter is highly dedicated to zebrarainbowflakes for being a boss ass bitch and making me cry. In a good way, of course.

***

Dan

Dan wasn't too worried the first day, when Phil didn't show up to school.

He figured that with everything that had been going on lately, the kid needed a day off. He was gonna work himself to death if he didn't take a break at some point, and Dan wouldn't want to be the cause of that.

That's not to say that Dan wasn't disappointed. The day was always slow and boring without Phil there, because despite how wrong it was, Dan had really grown use to his company. And he hated that it was considered 'wrong' in the first place. Why couldn't he, for once in his life, have something he wanted? Why were the rules so set against him, that

So he'd dragged himself through the day and tried not to think too much about it, and when he returned home, he sulked in his room the whole time.

He hated the weekends, for more reasons than one. He hated staying in that house his family had holed up in, it was lonely and mind numbingly dull. There was absolutely nothing to do, because the rest of his family were always busy with work he didn't like getting into, and going outside not on his list of favourite activities.

The only thing to keep him busy was to write.

Sometimes it was just random words he found interesting, long and complicated that he could barely pronounce. Or sentences that had no depth or meaning, scrawled across the page in an attempt to string them together in a sensible way. Song lyrics and poem stanzas. He was the epitome of cliched angst.

There was a story buried somewhere in all the papers scattered across his room, about blue eyes.

It had been three a.m. induced writing, when he couldn't stop thinking and needed some kind of outlet that didn't involve violence or sex. He had torn his room apart in frustration before sitting down at his desk, grabbing a pen and just letting go. The words came seamlessly, and he barely stopped himself once he'd reached a certain point.

And once he had finished, he'd almost ripped it apart.

Who the hell was Phil Lester, coming in and changing him into this mess? Technically, it was Dan who had come into Phil's life, but he hadn't suspected the huge impact of the boy's presence on himself. Just look at him, fucking up everything about his life because of a guy. He'd been warned again and again about the consequences of the situation, and he'd tried, really, to stop it. But he couldn't control his fucking emotions, they had to know that. And they had scoffed at his use of the word 'emotions', claiming people like them had no time for something so petty. But Dan had always disagreed with them about most things, and this was no different.

But what exactly was he supposed to do? It wasn't as simple as others would make it, he couldn't just choose. He has to think about himself and his family, and Phil, all at the same time, and it was exhausting. Because they hated Phil and Phil hated them, and Dan hated everything.

And all of that, everything he was feeling and thinking, was written down in some messy sort of sense. His pen tore across the page, almost ripping through, and he'd filled almost half a notebook before his eyes grew heavy and his vision started to blur.

And the next two days passed methodically.

***

Now was a good time to start worrying

Dan had expected that, come Monday, he would finally get to see Phil, after three days of being deprived of it. He was being dramatic, he knew, but he had urges that could only be satisfied by a certain black haired boy.