I hear the door open and close. Dan's home. I don't want him to know that him coming in has awoken me, I don't even remember falling asleep. I hear him sigh and he passes me. He goes into the kitchen and I hear rustling of a bag. I hear him go up to his room and close the door. I intentionally fall back asleep and now that I know he's into the apartment and safe with me, it is much easier.
I hear Dan's voice as he is shaking me awake.
"Phil, wake up."
I don't respond. I really don't want to talk to him at all.
"Phil, please wake up."
"Go away."
"No, Phil. You need to wake up."
"You don't get to tell me what to do."
"You're right. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm a fucking dick."
His voice is altering. I can already tell he's crying.
"Phil..."
I really don't want to open my eyes. I hate hearing him miserable. But I'm pissed about last night still. It was fucked up. I don't know why I care so much.
"Phil please open your eyes. Please."
I open my eyes and he looks at me with his beautiful brown eyes. His head falls onto my chest and he cries. I push him off gently, and I stand up and go into my room. I slam the door and lock it. I honestly don't want him around right now. I need to think, I need to be alone with my thoughts. But I need him to talk to me and tell me what happened. I need to think about how I am going to approach him.
I hear a knock on my door.
"Phil, I'm going to get some breakfast. What do you want?"
"I want you to talk to me."
"I will get you the usual. We will talk about it when I get back. I'm really hungry."
"So getting food is more important than talking to me?"
"Phil, you're being weird."
"I'm being weird?" I scoff. "You're the one who started being fucking weird after the encounter with Pj and Chris and you took off for over six hours!" I spit.
"You're right."
"What the fuck were you doing anyway?"
"I really don't want to talk about it right now, Phil."
"I really don't give a shit about what you want right now. You owe me at the very least, an explanation."
"You're right."
I open my door. His eyes are downcast and his cheeks are stained with tears. The tear steaks across his cheek glisten in the sunlight and I use my right hand to lift his chin to look at me.
He looks at me, and an emotion flashes behind his eyes, but it disappears too quickly for me to decipher it.
I wipe away his tears with my thumb and bring his head to my chest.
"I'm so sorry, Phil."
"Please tell me why you left."
"I'm scared, Phil."
"Of what?"
"I'm scared that Pj and Chris are going to stop being friends. I'm scared that our group is going to not be a group anymore. I'm scared that they hate me. My social anxiety is freaking me out, and encountering that earlier was not helping at all. I don't understand why Chris was acting like that. I don't understand why Pj left."
"Have you talked to them since then?"
"Pj called me and asked if he could spend the night with us, but I told him that I wasn't home and I didn't know if you were either."
I hold him even closer. He moves his head and looks at me. Then he leaned his head and pressed his lips to mine.
