Deep Breath

Help Me

Dan's Point of View

I'd been coughing for the past couple of days. I thought it was just a cold. Then, I started coughing up blood. I pushed it aside, thinking my throat was just dry and raw from coughing so much that it bled. I wasn't expecting it to bleed.
I wasn't expecting it to hurt this much.

I wasn't expecting Phil to be at the shop that day.

I wasn't expecting the kiss.

And I certainly wasn't expecting what happened afterwards.

I wasn't expecting any of this.

I'll start from the beginning
____________________

I was sitting at the counter on a stool, waiting for something interesting to happen. Nothing was happening. I had been texting Phil, I know, I know, he hurt me, but I forgave his beautiful blue eyes, but other than that, I was bored. We had just had a simple conversation about tapioca pudding. Let's just say, Phil and I have a very different perspective about tapioca. I love it, he hates it. I told him about how bored I was at work, and he said he'd come right over and keep me company. I think we're starting to have a connection! I might like him, more than a friend... I should've given him a second chance in the first place. Anyway, I told him to not come, I'd get it trouble.
Of course! He didn't listen, a few minutes late he waltzed right in the shop, trying to be subtle.

"Dan."

"Phil." I nodded, greeting him.

"There's something I need to talk to you about." He had his hands in his pocket and he looked really nervous.

"Um...okay." I smiled dryly, "Go for it."

He took a deep breath, making me tense up.

"I- you- uh..." He scratched the back of his head," Can we do this over coffee?"

"Sure. My shift gets off in about 10 minutes." I chuckled. Coffee sounds great, especially with Phil!

We walked down the street, with our arms dangling next to each other's.
I could hold your hand... I could just reach out and grab it. But I can't. You wouldn't like that.
I picked up my left hand and cracked my knuckles. We walked in the shop and Phil ordered for us, while I sat down. It was a cold night, and it was late anyway. 10:45 pm. I'm usually in the crease in my couch right now, but I can out that time aside for Phil. I'd be happy to do that anytime. I smile, thinking to myself. Phil interrupts me by squishing himself onto the bench with me. His cheek pressed against mine. Phil's cheeks were warm and soft. I didn't dare say anything or move at all, for deaf he would sit up. And then he wouldn't come back.

"You know, you're not very comfy to lay on.... You're just skin and bones!" He joked, sitting up and grabbing my wrist.
My face flushed.
He grabbed my wrist.

"If you don't stop being a little fag I'll kill you." The voice penetrated my skin like a knife to the back. I wanted to scream. I wasn't a fag... Was I?
I could feel his nails digging deeper into my wrist. I looked him in the face. I spit. He shouted
"I'm going to kill you!" His voice boomed," just wait 'til your mother gets home you-

Back into reality. It wouldn't stop. I had to stop thinking back to that. I had to just stop.

Phil must've seen something in my face that wasn't right, he let go.