drop dead ; phan

v

"god, this is so fucking stupid. why don't you have keys?" phil grumbled.

"oh please, stop complaining. i forgot my keys inside the house when i left-oh! i almost have it," dan said through his gritted teeth and cigarette.

"you know, you probably shouldn't be smoking when you're breaking into a house, or on a 10ft ladder for that matter," phil scoffed, holding tighter onto the metal steps that were supporting dan.

earlier that day at breakfast, phil had agreed to help dan break into his house to get some extra clothes and his phone and anything else. dan had broken his window without his parents knowing a few months back when he had gotten mad and threw a liquor bottle at the glass; he now used it to get in every so often when he lost his keys. dan was prying the cracked screen away from the wood when:

"got it!" dan exclaimed proudly, looking down at phil on the ground, who was rolling his eyes at dan's excitement. he tossed the cracked screen into the room and carelessly jumped headfirst into his room, landing on his bed.

"you're gonna light your house on fire, damnit," phil said strictly, but he was giggling, softly.
"just come on up!" dan laughed, already throwing some of his extra clothes into his backpack.

"whoa," phil muttered, surveying dan's room.
"the matter?" dan said instinctively, taking another long drag from his cigarette.

"ok, dan? how have you not died from alcohol poisoning?" he gestured to the empty cans and cracked bottles all around the room. he seemed to be legitimately shocked at the quantity.

"god, you sound like my parents. where the fuck is my phon-shit!" dan hit the top of his head while he was looking in the cabinets.

"ugh! dannny, you told me you only smoked once in a while?" phil picked up the endless amount of cigarette packs and slammed them down on the countertop. dan didn't reply and kept searching for his beloved phone. but phil kept lecturing him nonetheless on his overwhelming quantity of alcohol in his room, and ranting to him how he'll either die or get cancer, then die after that.

"uh huh, that's right," dan nodded by instinct.
phil was silent for a few minutes, looking through the mansion at the obvious wealth and money invested in it. suddenly he had an idea, and smirked.

"you know what danny, i've changed my mind," phil hopped off the kitchen counter he was sitting on as dan kept looking through the silverware drawers.

"hm?"

"let's leave now, with nothing except cash in your wallet, which you will give to me," he smiled hugely, holding his hand out for dan to put his wallet in.
dan's face went paler, if that was even possible, and his head jerked in phil's direction.

"you, you cannot be serious? i need this stuff!" he had whipped the cigarette out out of his mouth and was gawking at phil's idea.

"if you want to show your parents that you can be independent and that you're not hopeless, don't go using all the stuff that they bought. you're proving yourself wrong for fucks sake."

"but i-but phil, no.." he said between puffs of smoke.
phil smirked cruelly and extended his hand out farther. the zippered leather wallet was dropped grudgingly into phil's hand and he grinned widely.

"phil, i sometimes want you to just drop dead," dropping his cigarette onto his tiled flooring and stepping on it.

"the feeling's mutual, howell," he giggled.

the two walked outside with phil smiling and dan skulking across his tamed, green grass lawn.

"what now?" dan asked, cheering up a bit due to phil's relentless cheery skipping.