stained (phan) || book #1

thirteen

(a/n: i lowkey made myself cry bc of this chapter whoops)

P H I L ' S P O V

A loud smack echoed throughout the room and I rubbed my cheek, grumbling a swear word.

"What'd you do that for?" I snapped at Nyla who had just slapped me.

"You idiot! Do you realize how much this is going to hurt Dan? You like him, admit it."

"So what if I do? We'd never work," I replied.

"Why not?" She crossed her arms.

"I can't explain, but trust me, we won't. Let's just say my friends aren't very good people and will probably hurt Dan."

"Then quit being their friends!" Nyla exhaled. I shook my head.

"It's not that easy."

"Well hurting Dan was. He admitted his feelings and you just totally ignored him! You should feel ashamed, especially since he needs to feel wanted right now. He almost died two days ago, Phil. I think the last thing he needs is feeling unloved by the person he wants most."

"Nyla-"

"Look, I'm not asking you to date him," Nyla interrupted. "I'm just telling you to make sure he knows you feel the same. The relationship part is your choice."

"I know that, but I'm not a good person to be around."

Nyla glared at me. "Then why would you lead him on like that?" Because I'm supposed to kill him, I thought. "Why did you choose to sit next to him on the first day? Why did you talk to him after support group? Why did you buy him those shoes? Why'd you hold his hand, and save him from drowning, and kiss h-"

"You know about that?"

Nyla's lips formed in a straight line, sweat beginning to trickle down her forehead. "I didn't mean to let that slip out. Dan and I were talking about you and he may or may not have mentioned that."

I facepalmed. "Of course he did. Look, I wasn't thinking. I just leaned in and he didn't push me away."

Nyla's phone rang, stopping her from replying. She grumbled, grabbing her device and answering. She talked to whoever it was then hung up.

"That was my mom. I have to go home. Just do the smart thing, okay Phil?" She told me. I nodded and she hugged me quickly before hurrying away. I sighed, sitting down in a chair against the wall. I looked into Dan's room window to see him asleep, his arms cuddled around a pillow.

I looked down at my knees, feeling my lip quiver. I am not going to cry in a hospital hallway. No.

I jumped at the sound of shouting and looked up to see doctors rushing a bloody body to a room. I stared at the figure, the person crying and barely alive.

I do that to people. I kill them. I kill them without thinking about who might miss them or who might be relieved that they're gone. I didn't know what they wanted to be when they grew up, or what their job was, who their best friend was, their life in school, who they love, what their favorite color is. . . people have stories which I tear the pages out of.

What if somebody killed Dan? I would be heartbroken. I would miss him so much.

But I had nobody to be afraid of, but myself, Wirrow, and Bryony. They could kill him. I could kill him. I had the poison on my lips, and he could kiss me and die because of me.

Was Dan even innocent? Has he ever intentionally hurt someone? Has he ever done something really bad?

When was my killing spree going to stop? Was there an age limit? Would Wirrow and Bryony even let me leave? Besides, even if I did, wouldn't I still be stuck with the guilt of the lives I took? Why wasn't I dead? What was the point in living when my only reason to be here was to kill others?

And more importantly, what the hell was so special about Dan? He's just a short brown-haired British guy with a love for pink and swimming.

I stood up, wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans. I trudged over to Dan's hospital room and slowly opened the door, tiptoeing into the dark room. I then shut the blinds to the window, making sure nobody could see into the room.

I slid my knife out my pocket and clutched it tightly in both hands, standing over Dan and raising it.

Do it. Just get it over with, I told myself. He's just a person. He's not important, I told myself.

Tears slipped down my face and I bit down on my lip to keep a sob from tumbling out, my hands shaking.

I raised the knife higher. I watched Dan as he slightly twitched, his mouth slightly open, little snores running from his lips. A small trail of drool was rolling onto his pillow and his hair was in his face.

"Phil. . ." he whispered in his sleep, sadness heavy in his raspy voice. I winced, my heart pounding and ears ringing. He was dreaming about me.

Do it, Phil. This is your job.

He snuggled his pillow closer to him. My body trembled.

Come on. Stop being such a baby. You've killed people before.

He softly smiled in his sleep. My head was throbbing.

KILL HIM!

"Dammit!" I whispered, slashing my knife down. I looked up, knowing that I had stabbed the bed and not him.

Tears began to pour freely down my cheeks. I muffled my sobs with my hand as I sat on the cold tile floor, the knife back in my hand.

I failed Wirrow. I failed Bryony. I failed myself, because I did the stupidest thing I could ever do.

I fell in love with Dan Howell.

I opened the window leading to the outside and threw it out, watching it fly through the air and land in a pond.

I let out a breath and shut the window again, walking back to Dan's side. I leaned over and kissed his forehead. "I'm so sorry, Dan. I just can't lose another person I love."

He moved against my touch, yawning. I shot back. "Phil?" He murmured sleepily. "What are you doing?"

"I have to go, but I didn't want to wake you."

He nodded, rubbing his tired eyes. "Where are you going?"

Away, I mentally responded. Instead, I said nothing, leaning down and kissing his lips. He immediately reacted, shutting his eyes and resting his hands gently on my jawline.

But this was no passionate kiss, nor sensual kiss. It was a kiss of goodbye and guilt. It was a kiss that was officially the signature to never seeing each other again.

I pulled away, locking eyes with him. He smiled at me, but was also confused at my sudden affection.

"I love you, you know that?" I said. He nodded slowly.

"I love you too," he whispered, his grin slowly fading. "Are you sure you're alright, Phil? You seem upset."

I am, because I have to leave and I don't want to.

"I'm fine, Dan. Go back to sleep," I replied. I began to leave but he grabbed onto my sleeve.

"Promise you'll come back?"

I kept my eyes fixed on the door in front of me, my eyes blurring with tears again. "Promise," I lied, my voice cracking at the end. He let go after that, shutting his eyes again.

I stood back up and walked to the door, opening it. I took one last look at him, then walked out, the door shutting behind me. Then I did the smart decision, like Nyla requested.

I left.