Memories - PHAN

11

It took unbelievably long to film the video. I guess I always thought a five-minute video would take five minutes to make.

Boy, was I wrong.

I had to keep repeating sentences because I wasn't excited or natural enough. I ended up letting Phil watch and I listened to his advice. I couldn't help but feel slightly more nervous with him watching me, but the pressure was motivating to try my best.

Phil sat on the floor beside the camera and started making strange noises and goofy faces a little while in, and it was hard to keep a straight face or be concentrated on anything but Phil.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I asked as Phil filled his cheeks with air.

"Kirby." He replied, blowing up his cheeks again, and cocking his head to the side. I watched, amused as he gently fell to the side, making a strange squealing noise. All I could do was stare and think about how endearing his silliness was.

"I'm so bored, this is taking forever!" He whined, rolling around a bit.

"Be patient, I want it to be good. I don't think I sound natural enough." I explained.

"Just tell me the story while looking at the camera. That's what you said you used to do! Don't use the script, you're animated enough, just tell the story." He said, rolling to lie on his stomach.

I took his advice. I folded the script up into a quick and messy airplane and threw it at Phil. I turned my gaze to the camera lens, and told Phil my story.

***

I still had to go back and repeat sentences to make them perfect, but I felt and probably sounded more natural. I finished the story, gave a cheesy lesson, and then talked briefly and reassuringly about my amnesia for the people who hadn't heard of it. I smiled, saying goodbye to the Internet.

"How was tha-" I stopped, noticing Phil's position on the floor. He was on his side, curled up so his knees were at his chest. His arms were rested in front of his face, but I could still see his eyelids shut delicately, and his lips parted slightly. He must've fallen asleep while listening.

I let out a soft, whispered "aww," without trying too, and crawled over to him. I tried to be silent, even though it probably wasn't necessary. I sat on my knees in front of him, wondering what to do. He looked so peaceful and innocent, and I didn't want to disturb him. But it probably wasn't too comfy curled up on my bedroom floor.

I sat for a minute, watching his steady breaths. I leaned in closer, gently blowing on his face and then smiling when his eye twitched. I blew a bit harder, moving around to get all of his face. His eyes squeezed shut and his nose scrunched up.

I shuffled closer, leaning closer to his face. I blew as hard as I could, and his hand flew up to his face. He brushed at his nose, squeezing his eyes shut and letting out a throaty groan. I kept blowing and he brought his other hand up to rub at his face like there was something on it.

I let out a small giggle, and he squinted his eyes open, smiling when he saw me. He buried his face in his hands, only curling up more on the floor.

I leaned in, grinning and resting my head on his shoulder. I nudged him with my nose, feeling him stir slightly.

"Morning sleeping beauty." I said.

"Goodnight, love." He mumbled.

I pulled back from his shoulder immediately, staring at him. I tried to ignore the mushy feeling inside me when he called me "love."

"I mean...platonic flatmate who I'm trying not to creep out." He corrected, peaking up at me through his fingers. I smiled at him, and helped him up by pulling his shoulders up. He rolled his head, and I heard his neck crack.