((Quick A/N, please excuse any spelling or grammar errors, as I most likely will miss a few in my initial editing. I promise I'll go through and fix them soon (: ))
//Dan\\ (trigger warning)
Staring blankly at his wall, Dan was lost. Lost in thought, lost in his mind, lost in his own world; a world he went to too often, a world that tore apart his sanity and self-acceptance. A world that killed him slowly, every time he would go there; yet it was the only place he could go to without regret.
Not thinking about what he was doing, Dan reached over to his right arm with his left, and started scratching at the skin. Digging his nails in, he dragged his hand across, creating marks. He knew they'd only last an hour or so, since the skin was barely risen. He wasn't going to let that happen.
Tears were streaming down Dan's face and building up in his eyes, blurring his vision, but that didn't matter. He knew where he had to go, he knew the route too well. He stood up shakily, walking over to his bathroom door. He pushed it open, going straight to a cabinet where he had a box hidden. Opening the box, he felt around for the familiar feeling of cold metal.
He let out a sigh of relief when he found what he was looking for. Wrapping his fingers around it, he brought it to his arm. Dan closed his eyes as he felt the blade press against his skin, tearing it open. (end of trigger warning)
//Phil\\
Phil was tired and about to fall asleep, when his mum tapped his shoulder.
"You need to keep working, we leave as soon as all of the boxes and things are loaded in the truck, and we only have a few left," she told him, smoothing out Phil's hair in a sort of loving, and comforting way, before turning back around to grab another box.
Phil nodded his head sleepily, and turned up the music on his phone, almost so that his earbuds would burst. Tucking his phone in his pocket, he turned to follow his mum.
"We keep this love in a photograph; we make these memories for ourselves..." Phil sang along quietly, as he reached down to grab a box labeled kitchen stuff.
Phil and his mum were moving, and they wanted to leave the house they were currently at as soon as they could.
"All it does is bring back memories. The house does, the town, the people. We just need to get out," The explanation his mum had given him when he asked why they were leaving, made complete sense to Phil.
They had been staying in the house that Phil's mum had lived in when she met his dad, and most of the people in the town had known him.
Phil's father had passed a few years ago, due to a car crash. After this happened, Phil and his mum moved back to her old house, into the town where she had met her late husband, Phil's dad. They had moved back so that they'd be closer to family; but that also meant being near the family of Phil's father, which hurt his mum.
"Here, I can take this from you," his mum said, taking the box he had been holding.
"Alright, but let me take the net one out? You've been working all day," Phil told his mum, as she walked outside to put the box in the moving van.
He sighed as he turned back around to get another box, knowing that this would be a long night.
Hey guys, so yeah, I'm starting another Phan fan-fic...
um....I have this one planned out, and as you can tell, it's already a bit different in the writing style, so, let's hope this turns out well, yeah?
YOU ARE READING
Glue Gun | Phan
FanfictionDan was broken. Phil wasn't. Dan thought that he'd never be fixed. Phil thought the opposite. Dan was a shattered a vase. Phil was the glue.