one★彡red flower
warnings: swearing
: THIS IS THE FIRST CHAPTER, MY WRITING IS TERRIBLE & THIS STORY IS NOT CUTE
i do not own dan or phil, and everything in this story, is a work of fiction. any coincidences are just coincidences.
dan howell did not like talking to neighbors or socializing at all. phil lester counted, too. his stupid dumb little flowers that he gives dan everyday that dan keeps in a box under his bed; the flowers overflowing like a sink with the faucet running. his stupid little dumb flowers but they meant so much to dan. they were so fucking adorable and so fucking stupid and he loved that.
"dannnnn! it is phil, please answer the doo-" phil's complaining is cut off by dan opening the door, with messy bed hair and sweatpants. phil stands at the doorway of his flat, holding a red flower. the flower is a dyed orchid. dan loves orchids, but never told phil. "here is your flower of the day!" phil chirps, and dan wants to just snap at him. sometimes his positive attitude was very annoying to dan. but he kept his cool. phil opens his hand up so the flower is balancing on his palm, and dan snatched the red flower out of phil's hand, said a blunt thank you, and slammed the door shut. he didn't have time for phil today. today dan was going to aimlessly walk around, and just buy things. clothing, furniture, little toys and such, video games. whatever caught his eye.
"daniel! howeeeeel!" someone shouts, and it was phil. dan slowly trudges to the door, again, and opens it.
"what the hell do you want?! can you just fuck off?" dan complains, and rolls his eyes.
"let's go walk around london together today!" he smiles, and he now has a different shirt on, with a flower pattern, different to his cat one he was wearing moments ago.
"fuck yourself! no." dan replies, and begins to shut the door.
"no, fuck me, please. and is that a yes?" dan cannot see his face anymore, but can sense he is smirking.
"no, i told you, fuck off." and dan ignores the rest of the little blabbers that come through the door, and sits down on his sofa, beginning to watch television and whip up some toast for breakfast.
★彡
as dan ready himself up for walking around, he bites his lip, and thinks about the flower.
the flower.
dan had left it in the windowsill, since morning! with the sun shining through the window boldly. the flower has to be alright...right?
dan rushes to the giant windowsill bay window he has, and gently grabs the lightly crumbled flower. he makes his way to his bedroom, where under his bed he has a box full of the flowers phil has given him. so far he has seventy-four. a collection of colors, many different shades, two different colors in one flower, paint splashed on some; the box is a colorful ride.
after putting the box back under his bed, dan slips on some black shoes and grabs his keys. he opens the door, locks them, and quietly tip-toes past phil's flat. he knows he probably is listening for dan to exit, so he can bombard him with questions and facts and such.
but today, phil did not do that.
the door stayed shut, even after dan accidentally knocked over a glass vase close to the lift, and kicked the glass under the mini table where it was previously placed.
dan chose to celebrate silently because phil didn't come out, but dan didn't know this was not the prodigious of something.
☆彡
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dyed flowers一phan au
Fanfiction[ S U P E R O L D - unedited ] a story where two boys are falling in love and out in a matter of weeks then falling back. they talk in poetry. the embodiment of letting someone go. • or where phil lester gives dan howell dyed flowers everyday unti...
