Human - phan

Five

I woke slowly and comfortably from dreams of Leila Roberts as the sun streamed in through the window. Hair tickled my nose and I opened my eyes to a sea of black. Phil. Not Leila. Okay. The bed was so small we were practically spooning and I jerked backwards, hitting the wall with my arse and biting my tongue so as not to wake Phil. I glanced down under the covers. Shit. This was not something I wanted him to see, of course he'd jump to the wrong conclusions. I mean, I was sharing a bed with him.

It was still early, I reasoned. If I jumped in the shower now I could be out before anyone woke up. Carefully, I climbed over the soft hump of Phil's sleeping body and shut the bathroom door, turning the shower down as cold as it would go. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the sheet of ice: focusing very carefully on the image of Mr McEwan in lacy pink French lingerie.

*

"How much of that pond did you get in your hair?!" Phil laughed as I came out of the shower with a towel around my waist.

He was sitting cross legged on the bed reading a book, the duvet pulled up around his shoulders.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" I asked, trying to ignore the adorable way in which he was clinging on to his big toe with his fingers.

"Yeah, but I usually wake up early anyway. Unlike Chris, he won't get out of bed until five minutes before his lesson — and that's only if we tip him out." Phil giggled, turning to grin fondly at the bed by the door.

"Sometimes we have to get the shower out and spray him before he moves." PJ murmured with a yawn. His morning voice was deep and croaky, and he stretched lethargically out on the bed, arching his back against the headboard.

"Sorry, did we wake you, too?" Phil's eyebrows creased and he grinned guiltily at me.

"Nah, s'cool," PJ yawned again. "I woke up earlier anyway. Saw you two all cuddled up." He flashed us a crooked grin.

I smiled into the floor, remembering the warmth of Phil's arms.

"Dan needs to borrow some clothes or he'll freeze," Phil said to PJ. "I reckon he's too skinny for my jeans, you got a spare pair?"

"Yeah, sure," PJ responded. "He'll have to borrow one of my shirts too, every one of yours seems to be dirty and shoved in a pile under your bed as if we wouldn't notice the smell."

Phil glanced guiltily up at me, hiding his face behind my back. "I don't know what you're talking about." He muttered.

*

PJ's clothes smelled like soap and forests, but they fitted me almost perfectly — even the impossibly tight jeans.

"What time's your first class?" PJ asked through another yawn, pulling on a black sock which was more hole than sock.

"It's not till 1:30," I replied as I tried to pull my hair straight with my hands, "Double Lit and then I'm done for the day."

"Same, actually. Do you think we should get started on the shoot? At least, start storyboarding the scenes you're in while you're here," PJ paused with a shirt halfway over his head, staring eagerly at the mass of camera equipment in one corner of the small room. "We'll have to get Chris up first though..."

His face fell slightly as he turned to Chris: asleep with his head under the pillow, one leg hanging so far off the bed it touched the floor and the other curled underneath him so that he resembled a headless duvet-snail.

"Oh dear." Phil said with a little giggle.

Cautiously, I approached the bed. PJ joined me and surveyed the task with his arms folded and his eyes narrowed.