wake up, phil - [phan]

{ 44 } - The End

The two boys are laying in the bed, inches between their bodies, the chrome-coloured sheets pulled up to their chins.

Not long after the sun has started to rise, one of the boys opens his eyes. His sea-coloured eyes that seem to drawn in all the light, giving them a bright and watery effect.

The boy takes his slender arms out from the warmth of the duvet and rubs his eyes and running his fingers through his thick black hair, before putting them back under the covers and rolling onto his back.

He stares around his flatmate's bedroom that he had slept in. His eyes drift over the familiar posters, grey walls, the blinds over the windows, the desk.

It only takes the tinsel on the top of the door for the boy's eyes to bulge in shock when he remembers what today was.

"Dan!" he shouts excitedly, turning over and shaking the other boy's shoulder violently in an attempt to wake him from his deep sleep.

This boy hated waking others from their sleep, but this was a very special day, so this was an exception.

"Dan!" the boy shouts again at his brown-haired flatmate.

The other boy groaned, before mumbling a grumpy,

"Fuck off."

The blue-eyed boy stopped and sighed, anxiously nibbling his lip.

"But Dan, it's Christmas. Please wake up?"

"Oh shit, Phil!" The brown haired boy jumped out of his skin and quickly whipped round so he could to face the other, an apologetic grimace on his lips. "I completely forgot! I didn't mean to snap at you!"

The other boy giggled, before brushing his black hair away from his eyes.

"It's alright, you grouchy grandma." he said, before shielding himself as the other boy pretended to fake punch him on the nose.

They both lay back on the bed, arms pressed against one another's, before Dan sat up on his elbow and turned to Phil.

"Merry Christmas, you nerd." he said, as he affectionately ruffled up Phil's black mane of hair.

Dan lay back again, but shifting his weight slightly in Phil's direction so he was close enough to rest his head beside Phil's and inhale his scent. His flatmate smelt of cinnamon and home.

"You know," Dan mumbled. "We should be spending Christmas with our families."

"I don't need to." said Phil defiantly.

"Why?"

"Dan, you're my family."

Dan dramatically groaned and reached behind his head to grab a pillow, before whacking it over Phil's head with as much force as he could, emitting a loud squeak from Phil.

"You're so bloody cheesy, it's gross."

"Hey," said Phil, mock hurt. "You love it."

"Nah."

They both lay in silence for a while more, enjoying each other's company as they slowly shuffled closer together, before Dan started fiddling with the hem on the sleeve of Phil's pyjama shirt.

"Do you want to do anything?" murmured Dan.

"I'm okay just lying here."

"I can't stand the taste of the inside of my mouth. I'm gonna get up."

As Dan stood up, a hand grabbed at his wrist, and he spun to see Phil worriedly staring him down. His eyes reminded Dan of his time at the bridge, in his dream when Phil was begging him not to take his life by jumping off the bridge.