one shots // phan

pastel!dan & punk!phil

Word count: 1004

A new boy started working at the flower shop across the street from the tattoo parlor I work at. He has brown hair and brown eyes and I've not caught him wearing anything black in the week that I've seen him. He always wears pretty pastel colors that contrast nicely with his tanned skin.

Sometimes I sit and watch him. Not in a creepy way, just watching how he moves so gracefully while assorting flowers or watering them. Sometimes I catch him glance over at me and look away quickly when he sees that I'm looking at him.

"Why don't you go to talk him? Introduce yourself?" My boss asked me one day when he caught me staring again. I looked back at him quickly, a blush forming on my pale cheeks.

"B-because," I stutter. He smirks.

"Well, because why?" he asks, never taking his eyes off the job he was doing. I sigh.

"Well, what if he thinks I'm weird or freakish because of my tattoos?" I ask, glancing back at the the shop to see that he had gone inside.

"Then if he doesn't like you for who you are, Pastel Boy isn't worth your time," he says, finally glancing up at me.

"Yeah, I guess so. I'm taking my break now. I'll be back in a bit," I say, standing up and walking out the door.

I walk down the street to the little café I have lunch at sometimes. I open the door and automatically knock into someone.

"Sorry!" they say and then I see who it is. It's Pastel Boy.

"S-sorry," I stutter. He smiles.

"It's okay. It happens," he says, picking up the bag he dropped. "I'm Dan by the way. I work at the-"

"I know," I say interrupting him, then mentally slap myself for it. "I know you work at the flower shop, not your name, I'm not a stalker, because that would be weird, I should probably shut up now." Dan laughs.

"So, what's your name, Mister Tattoo Parlor Guy?" Dan asks.

"Um, Phil," I say.

"Okay, Um Phil, it was nice running into you, literally. I have to get back to work, but maybe we could hang out sometime?" Dan asks.

"Y-yeah, sure. I'd love that," I say, smiling.

"I get off work at 5," Dan says, walking past me. "See you then."

It takes my brain a second to process what he said.

"Wait!" I say, calling after him as I open the door and look down the street. Dan turns to face me and raises an eyebrow.

"Yes?" he asks, putting his hands behind his back.

"I get off at 5:30." Dan smiles.

"I'll see you at 5." He turns around and continues walking. I sigh and walk back into the café to order my food.

°°°°°°°°

I walk into the parlor to find Dan sitting there. He smiles at me.

"Hi," he says as he swings his legs back and forth.

"Hi. What are you doing here?" I ask. He looks out of place surrounded by all the dark things. He looks around for a second before answering.

"Got off work early. Very early and decided to come over and wait 'till you were done. Besides, I've never watched anyone get a tattoo before. Is that okay? I can leave if-"

"No, it's fine. Um, my next appointment is in 30 minutes. We can just hang out until then," I say, walking over to the chair beside Dan and sitting down.

"How long does it take to do a tattoo?" Dan asks, looking over at me.

"Uh, it depends on what it is I guess. Why?" I ask.

"I was thinking about getting a small one," he says sheepishly, looking down at the floor. I smile.

"What do you have in mind, Pastel Boy?" I ask. He looks back up at me.

"Pastel Boy, really? But I want a semicolon. To represent that when an author could've ended a sentence they chose not to. Just like me when I thought about ending my life, but I didn't. I kept going because my story isn't over yet," Dan says, looking down at his hands.

"Okay. That shouldn't take long at all. Come on," I say, deciding not to ask about his past. If he wants to tell me, he will. Dan follows me over to my work area and sits on the chair.

"Where do you want it?" I ask, getting the ink ready.

"My wrist," he says, pulling his sleeve up to reveal his wrist.

"Okay," I say, taking an alcohol swab and cleaning his wrist. I dip the needle in the ink and get work.

20 minutes later I'm done. I bandage his wrist.

"Don't take that off for 24 hours. And here is some cream to put on it while it heals," I say, handing him a small packet.

"Thanks. How much do I owe you?" Dan asks, pulling out his wallet.

"Nothing. It's on the house," I say, turning around to clean up.

"No, how much," he says. I laugh.

"Seriously. It's fine. If you try to give me money I will not take it," I say. I can feel him roll his eyes as he sighs and puts his wallet back in his pocket.

"Then at least let me buy you dinner," Dan says. I stop what I'm doing and turn around.

"Deal. Now if you'll excuse me, my customer is here." Dan smiles and goes to sit where he was when I walked in.

I can feel him watching me the whole time I work through out the day.

"You were staring at me all day, weren't you?" I ask as we walk out the door.

"No," he says, bumping my shoulder as we walk.

"Yes, you were! I could feel it," I say, laughing.

"Okay, maybe I was a little," Dan says.

I smile as I walk down the street with the Pastel Boy.

°°°°°°°°°

Okay sorry that kinda sucked.