drop dead ; phan

viii

"i wonder where your parents are right now," phil mumbled to himself, as dan was asleep on the sofa opposite him. dan had managed to fall asleep soon after pj had left. he still hadn't really told phil anything, so phil still had a lot of unanswered questions.

"in fact dan, as much as this may come as a surprise to you, i actually wonder about a lot of things, i wonder how you met pj, i wonder why you quit college. also why you hate your dad. i wonder where your brother is. i wonder why you drink so much, or why you sleep around tons. why you didn't want me to see you shirtless, although i have already when we first met. or why, before becoming homeless, you never really left the house, and when you did no one ever knew where you went. i wonder why you hate drugs so much."

"i wonder why you do drugs." dan whispered, but it was loud enough for phil to hear. it caught him off guard as he was so certain that dan was asleep, and it took him a few seconds to form a sensible reply.

"oh, uh, sorry. i uh, i thought you were asleep," phil stuttered.

"why do you do drugs?" he repeated, not bothering to open his eyes.

"oh. well, that all started a long time ago," phil coldly chuckled.

dan didn't say anything, and phil took that as a signal to go on.

"well, i uh, i was around 14 and i started small, with like, weed and stuff. then i got kicked out when i was 15 and i was homeless for about.. 5 or 6 months maybe? then i found this guy, chris, who said i could share his apartment with him. we were pretty platonic but we ended up dating when i was 16, oh he was 17 by the way, one year older than me. i started dabbling back in drugs when shit happened between me and him and our friends.. a lot happened in a short span of time and it was overwhelming for both of us. that's one of the reasons i went to rehab," phil explained, with his mind adding, "yeah, that and the fact that i'm a serial killer."

"but even now, after you went to rehab, you still do drugs, don't you?" dan asked in a tone that sounded like he didn't really want phil to answer this.

"when i'm upset," phil answered quietly, running his fingers through his matted hair.

"when was the last time you got high?" dan asked curiously, his fingers tapping against the back of his hand. phil looked at his non-existent watch, even though dan wasn't actually looking at him, and breathily laughed.

"about 5 hours ago."

"was it at that club?"

"yeah, i was pretty pissed at myself for being an obnoxious dick and i accidentally grabbed a bong and accidentally got high."

"so you got high because of me," dan groaned, turning on his stomach and lying face down in his pillow.

"well, i mean i'd be high sometime soon anyway, it's not like i've put any effort into stopping," phil shrugged, pulling his knees up to his chest And leaning against the wall.

"you should."

"well, you're one to talk. i'm shocked that you aren't dead from alcohol poisoning," phil grumbled, yawning as he felt his lack of sleep creeping up on him.

"why would you care?" dan retorted, his voice muffled by his pillow.

"because i'd rather that you didn't die anytime soon," phil mumbled, his eyes shutting involuntarily.

"you care whether i'm dead or alive?"

this question took phil by surprise, he didn't expect that dan would need reassurance of this. it could've gone without saying, he thought at least, that he cared.

"well obviously, dan. i do care about you, you know," phil said, leaning farther onto the wall.

dan didn't say anything after phil's comment, he just turned to the opposite side of him and tried to actually sleep. phil deeply sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that day and moved to the empty couch from the floor, in the hopes of them both waking up in better spirits.

"goodnight dan."

[short filler chapter soz but 400+ views holy shit thank you !!]