Dan's POV

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He tried to muffle his sobs, I could tell. But I could still hear him. The walls in our apartment are so paper thin, no watter how quiet you try to be, the shadows hunt you down and listen. And I was a shadow, in my black jeans and shirt. I was no longer pale, though - my skin had returned to its usual colour, my cheeks had a tint of red back in them.

And then his shaking breaths stopped. I head the bed springs creak, and soft foot steps round the corner.

He came into my room and took my laptop from my hands. "Hey, Phil -" I started, but he sat on my bed and put it the other side of him, 'shh'ing me.

"So," he said. "You never gave me an answer." Confused, I looked strangely at him.
"Give me a clue..?" I asked, completely bemused.
"You know, when you decided to pass out quite rudely instead," he tried to supreme his laughter, but being the boy he was, he couldn't. He let out a cute and loud laugh, and once he'd started, I did too; we laughed for a long time, sitting together on my checkered bedsheets, and I don't know about him, but all our memories were running through my mind. The time we went to Japan together, Playlist Live, all the videos, especially PINOFs, when we moved to London, writing our book, all of it. And we laughed for what seemed like a heavenly forever.

When we finally caught our breath again, I looked into his deep, electric eyes, and smiled.

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