Broken Rules - Phan

Part 10

It was a blur. The sky was so dark, the moon was so low, the stars were so sharp and the trees were looming like watching giants. But the atmosphere wasn't sinister or intimidating, the words we said made the sky look like a drowsy cup of red wine, the stars specked like freckles on a dainty nose and the moon paled over the treetops which spun a cobweb of shadows.

"What's up?" I asked when we dispersed from the crowd of people into the thick shadow of the orchard. My composure seemed cool and calm, in my eyes, but inside I was melting and shaking. My hands felt like they were going to explode into nothingness and my whole being felt twisted and bruised.

"You've been acting weird," he said, with his hands, uncharacteristically, fumbling. His eyes were down by his feet and his tongue was noticeably fiddling with his lip ring. I took all of this in quickly, my eyes darting from limb to limb. Noticing his frame, and it's considerable change, I suddenly felt scared. Not the kind of scared you are in a hostile situation, but my entire body felt like lead and I felt painfully weighed down.

"I don't understand," I replied, my throat drying and my stomach bubbling,
"Yeah," he paused, "you do." I thought he was expecting me to speak, but he continued. His cream knitted jumper was pulled right up to his knuckles which were turning whiter with every second. His black jeans were fraying at the holes and his old boots were losing shine rapidly.

"I see the way you look at me Howell," I flushed red, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, "and I'm not sure I can sit here and watch anymore," I could just see his fiddling hands over my glowing red cheeks.
"I don't know what you mean," I mumbled, I now couldn't see over my brimming scarlet cheeks and my hands were sweating like a monsoon in India.
"You know exactly what I mean," at this point in time I could hear my heartbeat and could feel my body convulse with every drum.

I can remember this moment the clearest, clear as the autumn day itself. I could remember the shade of white his knuckles were and the direction of the wind. It was all so fast after it happened, but during, I was sure the world had stopped. That's how cheesy and cliche it was.

Before I could say something, anything, he had softly placed his cold hand on the back of my neck. It made me shiver; the temperature difference between my sweaty neck and his cold hand were considerably different. He put his crooked nose on mine, tilted his head down so our foreheads could touch.

He smelt like soft, creamy coffee, firewood and vanilla. He smelt like winter. He looked pale and sharp. The sound of his heavy, shaky breathing contrasted the cool and calm feeling of his skin on mine. That's when I realised something. I was soft and warm, angry and passionate. I was fire. And he was ice.

Another cold hand was placed under my chin before I shakily breathed out,
"Phil," I closed my eyes. And I just felt him. My hands were frozen by his touch and were dangling by my side. I couldn't move.

In the dark, cold night, he turned my head slightly, and placed his warming lips on mine. It was short and innocent. Nothing was invasive or hostile. No tongues fought and no saliva was exchanged. And that didn't disappoint me.

Although it was short, in that moment, everything had stopped. It was just Phil and I in this beautifully broken world. And, for the first time, I felt like I belonged. It was very cheesy, as you might think, but it was true. Phil made me feel like anywhere was a home if I was with him. He never failed to make me smile. His warmed lips made me feel euphoric and his cold hand tingled on the back of my neck like pins and needles.

Phil took a step back and I took in his exterior, the hard, cold ice covered in beautiful art was melting. And he was warm and free. Like a river. Like the sea. Like an ocean.

I didn't expect to fall for anybody, in fact I'd never felt attracted to anybody in that way before. But when I got to know him, when he opened his mind for me, I was drowned in his beauty and his spirit. I was allowed into his world and nothing was bad. Phil Lester wasn't bad. I didn't believe he had a bad bone in his body. The way he held himself, it was protection.

The night enveloped me in darkness, but I wasn't scared. It was nice. It felt like a duvet was protecting me and the moon was my night light. The world didn't seem so dark and helpless anymore. I was free. In mind anyway. It wasn't until I realised that the black gates were locked, and I wasn't allowed to leave, that I started to feel very trapped.

And that's when I wondered, in the dark, sitting under a tree alone, what had caused him to freeze. Who had taken his free-flowing stature away from him? Who had made him feel like he had to protect himself? Phil Lester wasn't ice. He was water.

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Finally my gosh, danyul ur a ball of nerves and ur so symbolic yes
Plus demisexual shy Dan is legit my life wow
Phil is just a punk pansexual noob and I love him too
My children <3