wake up, phil - [phan]

{ 11 } - Red

Dan's POV

My eyes slowly opened. They were stuck together with sleep and sticky dried tears. Wha- Had I been crying? What for?

And then the events of the previous night came flooding back.

Oh shit.

I closed my eyes again, hoping it was all a dream, that Phil hadn't announced our relationship in front of my homophobic parents, so that Phil hadn't spent ages knocking on my door, yelling at me, so that I hadn't kicked Phil out in utter rage, so that I wasn't the mess I am now.

I ran my hand through my hair, feeling it stick up at weird angles. I noticed I was still in my clothes from last night - my famous creamy moth shirt and my black jeans. I sighed, and lay on my front. I didn't want to move at all. I closed my eyes, and then suddenly, there was a gentle tap at the bedroom door. Anger began to spread again.

"FUCK OFF, PHIL. I TOLD YOU TO BUGGAR OFF-"

"Dan?!"

It wasn't Phil outside my door. It was PJ.

"PJ? What the hell are y-"

PJ pushed open the bedroom door, swiftly to reveal Chris beside him. PJ stared at me for a second, and began to speak. "Hi Dan, the front door was open. What's wrong?"

"Um... No-Nothing, everything's fine," I lied.

"We organised to meet last week, remember? So we were going up the stairs and we saw -"

"What the FUCKING HELL happened to PHIL?" Chris shouted.

"Wh-What?" I stuttered. I stared at Chris, puzzled.

"Why is Phil UNCONCIOUS on the SECOND LANDING, DAN?"

"Unconscious?" I spluttered.

"YES!"

"I don't..." Panic rushed through me.

Oh my God.

Phil had stormed out so fast that he must have fallen down the stairs. And it was my fault.

No it's not, my brain argued with me. You didn't push him, did you?

"Well?" PJ pushed on.

"I-We had an argument, and Phil stormed out, and he must have been going to fast he-"

"-tripped," finished Chris.

"Yeah." But I wasn't wasting any time.

I had hated Phil the night before, but now my fury was subsiding, I just felt like a massive dickhead. Phil was unconcious, for fuck's sake.

I jumped up, my head throbbing and ripped off my tight moth shirt and yanked on my old Yeezus shirt, spraying some deoderant on. I ran to the mirror to sort out my hair, as a distraction from all of the crazy emotions inside.

"We've called an ambulance," PJ said, watching me rush around.

"Thanks, guys."

"That's fine, Dan." PJ and Chris turned to leave the room. As soon as they were out of sight along the corridor, I threw myself into my deskchair, and buried my face in my arms.

Phil's okay, he's just had a nasty fall.

So? It's your fault he fell. You kicked him out.

Phil's okay -

No he's not okay. He could be in a coma for all you know.

Phil's fine.

No he's not.

Phil's fine.

No, he's not.

This constant argument in my head was driving me crazy. I got up slowly from the chair and headed for the mirror again. Once my hair looked reasonable, I ran as fast as I could out of the appartment, being careful as I reached the stairs. And sure enough,

There was Phil.

My heart almost stopped at the sight of him. His face was so ghostly pale it was scary. His legs were sticking out on weird directions. He'd probably broken them.

And it was your fault -

No. It. WASN'T.

PJ was kneeling over him, and I lept down the remaining stairs to kneel next to him. Phil looked far worse closer up. Hi eyes were red. Like mine.

I'd messed up before in my life, but I've never regretted something so much before.

His eyes were red.

Like mine.

A/N: wow thanks for all the reads and lovely comments guys ily