Living London (An AmazingPhil and Danisnotonfire fanfiction)

Chapter 21: Foreboding

*Rachel POV*

I sat back down on my bed, and stared straight ahead. I fiddled with my phone in my hand, lighting up the screen to see if I had any messages too often, with alarming nervousness starting to sink in. It's not like Dan would reply. I didn't say anything.

Your first love shows up at your happy place - London, and your first job, which you love more than anything. His sister showed up previously to your school, another happy place.

Things seemed to sink in. If only my shift had ended slightly earlier, or that he and his sweetheart had come in later.

This guy told you to kill yourself.

I swallowed my feelings up.

No, stop it. You need to tell Dan. You told him you would share with him, wouldn't you? That you and him would work things out together?

Dan's in bed sick. And should you ever discuss your ex with your current boyfriend?

I guess not.

I unlocked my phone and stared at the time impatiently. Maybe this is a question for Abby.

I dialed her number.

It rang, and rang.

"Hey!"

"Hi! I really need to talk to you-"

"... You thought this wasn't a voice message, but it is! Please leave a message after the tone."

It beeped. I hung up.

What a troll. Should've remembered that.

I paused.

Probably should've remembered she was at work too.

I was definitely out of it.

I felt my skin crawl. My arms became as cold as ice.

Would my problems ever stop following me? Would they ever stop?

No. Stop it. Things will get better. You've had some bad things happen. You've got a loving boyfriend waiting for you. And after all, what else could go wrong that hasn't already?

...

*Abby POV*

He took the coffee from my hand. I followed with my eyes from the cup in his hand to his eyes. I smiled involuntarily.

"So, Abby," he said, "I have something to ask you."

I felt my stomach giggle and rush. "Yeah?"

"Would you like to go to coffee with me?"

I looked into his eyes and grinned, "Aren't you tired of coffee, James?"

His lips curled up on one side, exposing some of his teeth in a playful smirk. He looked down to the counter, where I tapped his fingernails on it quickly. The sound of a upbeat dance. "Do you want to know a secret?"

I squinted and then raised an eyebrow, "Sure?"

"I don't even like coffee," he puffed a laugh at the end of his sentence. He took his free hand off the counter and grazed it through his hair, tucking the corner of his lip under his teeth briefly. He let his hand fall to his side, and then blinked at me.

I couldn't hold back laughing. "Are you serious? What have you been doing, then?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He said, with an unordinary shyness softening into his character. "I want to ask you out, if you would like. It doesn't have to be coffee. You just seem like the person who likes coffee."

"Why? I mean, you're not wrong."

"I don't know. Work in a coffee shop?"

"Seems good enough to me," I laughed. "Yes. I'm free Thursday at 1 PM, after my shift."

"Thursday," he repeated.

He took a small sip of coffee and then looked up, wide eyes blinking, and then looking at his hands. "I'll leave you to your work. I'll see you then."

"See you."

I watched him leave, passing out of the door and turning right down the street. I wonder where he went and where he came from. I wonder what accounted for his growing shyness. I leaned on the counter and wondered about who James could be. I would find out soon enough.

...

*Rachel POV*

The cool air sucked me into the revolving hospital doors, attacking me with a sudden heat from the indoor building. I tucked myself into a corner and yanked my jacket off of my arms. I proceeded to the front desk.

"Dan Howell. Fifth floor. I'm Rachel Browning."

The receptionist shifted papers on his desk, and then focused down for a while. "Yes. Go ahead."

"Thank you," I replied.

I pressed the elevator button. I stood back from the door as watched it intently. I found my hands fidgeting and tying themselves into knots. I waited. The needle dropped to 1. The doors opened. It was empty. I rushed inside, turned toward the outside, and watched the doors close in on myself in the tiny room.

It moved upwards, and soon enough, I was at the fifth floor. My steps echoed in the hallway, disturbing the silence with morphed, unclear sounds.

I knocked on the door, and then turned the doorknob. I peered into the room, opening it bit by bit. Dan looked up, catching me in sight, and smiled welcomingly.

I stepped in cautiously, standing up near the wall parallel. "How are you feeling?"

"Alright, I think. The doctor says I'll get this shit out soon," he gestured to his IV.

I laughed, but couldn't find the energy to enjoy it properly.

"I'm sorry I was such a jerk when I came back."

"You were unwell. You couldn't help it."

"I know, but I mean, I hope you didn't worry."

"Well, you know me," I looked downward, as if my shoes were of any interest. I looked back up to meet his gaze expectantly, but somehow not feeling ready to face it. I closed my hands together.

"Is there anything wrong?" He sensed.

I swallowed. You can't lie. You promised. And what good would it do?

"...Yes," I said reluctantly.

His expression changed to my own worries.

"But it'll be okay!" I immediately responded. I didn't want him to seem so glum by me when he was sick. "It's something I've got to work it. It's nothing, really!" I didn't want to explain.

"Well, I hope so," he said.

"Tell me about your trip," I changed the subject.

He smiled.