glory and gore ; phan

vi

"give me your hand," phil said, grasping onto dan's arm, who immediately flinched away. "if you're not a real psychic, why do you need my hand?"

phil shrugged, "helps the aura seem more spiritual." dan scoffed, resentfully holding out his arm, palm side up. phil tapped his fingers across his palm, humming slightly as his eyes scanned dan's body.

"you don't get much sleep and you get into fights often," he chuckled. "anyone can guess that, bruised knuckles, split lip, muscle mass, the circles under my eyes," dan spat back, a seemingly permanent frown tainting his lips. phil didn't seem to be taken aback however, he just let out a breathy laugh, as if knowing something dan didn't.

"i got it from your bruised ribs, blood underneath your fingernails, and you have a slight limp when you walk. also, your general demeanor isn't the most inviting."

dan opened his mouth to spit out some witty remark, before pursing his lips and scowling. "you have an important decision coming up that you are indecisive about," phil said, grabbing onto the brunette boy's other hand. "can you just tell me the solutions to my problems instead of simply reminding me of their existence?" he grumbled, narrowing his eyes.

"sweetie, that's not how the spirits work," phil smirked, quirking an eyebrow. "you're not even a real psychic!" dan shouted, starting to stand before being stopped by phil's hand on his thigh. "hey, mind keeping it down? you're disturbing the aura."

"tell me something useful or i'm leaving," dan threatened, clenching his jaw. "oh, and what a loss that would be for business," phil rolled his eyes, that cocky smirk still set on his lips. dan narrowed his eyes in on phil, balling up his fist at his side.

"okay, whatever," phil sighed, "you're a street fighter who works at an underground fight club that was recently taken down by the police by some fighter there, along with the majority of its employees arrested. now your, uh, acquaintance, chris is going to vegas and you're questioning whether or not to join him." dan raised an eyebrow, spluttering for words.

"i'm not a fucking street fighter," he muttered under his breath, narrowing his eyes. "and how could you have possibly known the rest?" phil smirked, propping up his chin on his fist. "your mum." dan rolled his eyes. "i'm out," he muttered, lazily rising to his feet.

"i know you fight because i went to one of your matches. i saw a police report for the club, my stepdad's a cop, and you have a tendency to mumble about your problems aloud when you think you're alone. i'm one room over from you and the walls aren't really that soundproof in our building," he breathed, his hand wrapped around dan's forearm to keep him from moving.

dan let out a long breath he wasn't aware he was holding. "did you at least enjoy the fight?" he coldly chuckled, gulping slightly. phil frowned, shaking his head. "i didn't particularly enjoy watching my neighbor get a ruptured lung and fractured wrist," he said grimly, his lips pursed in a tight line. "fair enough," dan shrugged, before shaking off phil's grasp and adding, "do i really talk to myself all that often?"

"all the time," phil smiled, relaxing back into his chair. dan's eyes flickered between the door and his chair, before he resentfully sat back down. "okay, got anything else?" he mocked, crossing his arms. "who's chris?" phil inquired. "psychics don't get paid to ask their clients questions," dan grumbled, earning a scoff from phil. "like i said, i'm not psychic and you're not planning on paying for shit."

dan laughed, "no, i'm not paying for this shit. though i have to say, i'd pay for dinner if you accompanied me." phil raised an eyebrow, resting his head in his palm. "oh really?" he said mockingly. "no, i'm broke. but it's the thought that counts."

phil rolled his eyes, eyeing dan suspiciously before speaking up. "good thing i'm not, and that i happen to know a good restaurant on fifth and main. does tomorrow at, hmm, say eight, sound good?"

"i was being sarcastic, but i won't turn down a free meal. will i have to steal a tux for this?" he smirked, standing up and slouching against the wall. phil smirked, his eyes taking down dan's body as he nodded. "i certainly wouldn't be opposed to it. so until tomorrow, fuck off, howell."