Pastel!Dan and Punk!Phil

Untitled Part 1

Phil's POV:

     I stared across the dark brown countertop of the Punk store I work at to the bland building across the street. That's how most of the world is. They cover themselves in color only to mask the fact that they are bland like everything else. I sigh, and look around the small shop at nobody. It was a slow day, not a single customer had come in since I got here at nine am, and now it's ten-till seven. I ask the owner of the place if I can head out early, and he says I can, since no one was there.

Dan's POV:

     I exited the bland building I work at and catch a glance of the all black punk shop across the street. It's name, written out in gold cursive writing, says darkness. Very appropriate. This was a contrast from my works as a poet. They were normally happy and gleeful, but the dreary place I live in doesn't give off much happiness. I have a theory though. That everything has color, no matter how bleak it seems. This actually inspires me to write, and I sit down on a monotone bench.

"Color of Nothing"

The dreariness that surrounds me,

Threatening to drown me,

In the monotone bland,

However I know it could be grand.

Everything has color,

Some brighter than others,

If it's azure blue,

Or baby girl pink,

Or even black,

The color of ink.

I recently learned,

From a very smart foe,

That every color,

Is not its color,

It is every other color.

So if it's monotone,

It is a hoax.

As it is every color,

You could ever know.

     When I finish my piece, I realize it's about ten-till seven and I stand up, smoothing my pastel blue shirt over my white button up and re-setting my blue, black, and white flower crown. The flower crown matches my shirt and black jeans, along with the white shoes that I have added pastel blue laces to. When I look across the street again, I see a intimidating man with a tattoo pea king over the top of the collar of his leather jacket. Then I start walking in the same direction as him. Mane he live around where I do.

Phil's POV:

     I didn't notice the man walking towards me until he tapped me on my leather -clad shoulder, making me jump. I look at his face, planning to glare at him but when I look into his soft brown eyes and adorable pink blush, I can't. He's cute. 

"Hello! I just noticed you seem to be heading towards where I live, so I figured I would ask. Where do you live?" He asks shyly yet scarcasticly.

"Third street, the tall white building." I reply, my people skills waning. His eyes light up.

"Really? So do I! I'm on floor three, apartment 362." He says, looking at me as if to say 'okay, your turn.'

"Wow, that's odd. I'm floor five apartment 529." I say, and I can't help but be intrigued by this man. And I notice he's wearing pastels. It looks cute on him. "Hey, here's my number, do you want to talk later?" I ask cautiously.

"Sure! I would love to." He says as we enter the building. There's no lift, so we trudge up the stairs to our apartments. 

📓 Hey there fellow Phan members! Thanks for reading this. Luv u all! <3

*Rides into the sunset on a Flame Dragon* 📓