Words cut deep a Dan+Phil fanfic

*facepalm*

Dan sat in the kitchen eating cereal and waiting for Phil. He'd decided in bed the night before that they needed to talk some stuff over. But Phil never came. Dan stayed away from the safety of his room for 14 hours waiting for Phil, waking up at 8am and realising at 10pm that he probably wasn't going to emerge any time soon. Dan was kinda worried. He knocked on Phils door. "Yeah?" Asked Phil weakly. Dan walked in, to see Phil wrapped in about 5 duvets, and a mountain of pillows. "I'm ill" he croaked. "Make me teeeaaa" Phil whined. Dan smiled weakly. "Sure". He went to the kitchen and poured 2 mugs of tea. He grabbed some poptarts as well, sticking them in the toaster. /that would cheer Phil up/ thought Dan. *pop* "Shit!" Squeaked Dan. However ready for the toaster Dan thought he was, it still got him every time. He grabbed the mugs and poptarts and ran to Phil's room. "Hey" he grinned at the pale boy. They shared a smile and Dan crept into Bed with Phil. "Ugh, seriously Dan, get out. You don't wanna catch what I've got, and besides, you hog the bed." He winked. Dan just shrugged. "Ah well. If I get sick then I guess you'll just have to make me tea and snacks in bed" Dan smirked.they smiled. They leaned into eachother. Dan felt closer to his friend then he had in a long time now.

"What are you smiling about?!" Phil protested. "I'm dying here!!" He said it overdramatically though, so Dan couldn't really take him seriously. Dan dived under the covers and Phil squeaked as Dan tickled him. They watched crappy films all night, snuggling and holding hands. (In between coughing/dying) it was perfect. Dan explained to Phil that he needed the loo, before heading to the bathroom. Phils razor blades caught his eye, and he was soon picking one up to inspect. He ran it down his finger lightly, flinching at the sharpness. A chill ran down his spine. Phil was next door. He was shaking. Nothing bad was happening. So why did he feel the urge? He thought back to the website he had looked at all those weeks ago. /'self harm is addictive, a hard routine to break'/ he didn't care. It was there, and his arm were itching. He forgot all about the happiness he had been experiencing only moments earlier. "you coming back to bed?" Phil called innocently. Dans heart skipped. He quickly dug the blade down his arms a few times, and a deep Scarlett line over his wrists. He sighed happily, dabbing the blood with a tissue. Right at that moment Phil walked in............................................,........................Bwahaha cliff hangah!!! I'm so evil ^.^ This chapter is dedicated to Marcelina out of guilt (I showed her the hat fic...) yup. That says it all. And If you haven't read it, I don't wanna be sued for corrupting your innocence...so don't...