Ninety Nine Days - Phan (Boyxboy)

Chapter 16

Dan's POV

I woke up fast, my eyes shot around the room.

Phil forgot to put the heating on.

But Phil wasn't here, I knew that really, but I tried to make myself believe he was still there. Still hiding in the wardrobe we put up, still playing hide and seek with me, hiding under my bed, holding his breath so I didn't notice, still asleep because he couldn't sleep the night before, maybe making coffee for us, sneaking up behind me with a surprise cuddle.

No.

No he wasn't.

He might never be able to do those things again.

I looked around, hoping to see something, a sign that he was okay, he'd be okay. He had to be. The closer I looked, the more of him I saw. Lion on the mantelpiece, Lioness by the fire, his stupid house plants on his coffee table at his side of the sofa. A pair of socks he'd left in the middle of the room. I smiled. He never picked them up.

I allowed myself to laugh a little at that.

I managed to smile through the pain shooting through my hand, the blood mixing with alcohol on the floor, the broken glass surrounding me - even when he wasn't there, even when he's in danger, even when we should be sad, Phil could always make me smile. Turn my tears into laughter, make me grin by saying just one word, or giving me just one look. That was Phil.

Although I had a pounding headache and the King of all hangovers, and probably some sort of alcohol-based addiction, I decided to make myself busy and clean up the nasty wound on my hand, and then scroll through Tumblr.

Usually, I could do this for hours on end, only stopping to be handed a cup of coffee or receive a quick kiss from Phil. Those things... I took for granted. I didn't get them anymore, what if I didn't ever again?

I didn't last more than five minutes on Tumblr. Not with all the happy fan art, mine and Phil's grinning faces, gifs from our videos, Phil being Phil and saying something inappropriate without fully understanding, or making a pun which I rolled my eyes at before, but now I thought was genius.

If only I had him back. I'd make sure I'd never mock his jokes or puns ever again. I'd admire every one of his innocent fails, and the way he grinned at the camera because of how much he loved the fans.

Some fans were talking about why we haven't been uploading lately, coming up with theories, what might have happened. But none of them came close to what had really happened to us.

I sighed and closed my laptop, rising from my sofa crease and shuffling slowly into my room. I had to do this.

"Hello Internet... I..." I groaned and turned the camera on, trying not to get too caught up in what I was doing. Maybe that way I wouldn't get so worked up.

"Hello Internet... I... I guess I have something to tell you. It's been a week or two... I'm not sure... Since, um, since we've uploaded a new video, and I've noticed you guys are getting kind of worried. Some of you have been asking questions, coming up with your own ideas, explanations of what has happened. You've all stayed calm and waited patiently... I'm sorry..."

Maybe I should do this another time.

It was getting too much, my hands were shaking, my heart racing, but I had to do it. I couldn't keep it from them any longer- Phil could die! They had a right to know!

"Something happened... Phil's very sick, he... He might not make it..."

My vision was blurred with tears, and my own voice echoed around the room; my head. I could see, I could only listen to what I was saying, realising I was curling up in my seat and letting out cries in floods of tears and whimpers.

"I'm sorry... It's my fault. I'm so sorry," I turned the camera off and just sat and cried. Nothing could stop me from crying, not even the photos of Phil around the room, or his videos on YouTube. His gorgeous smile, or that cute grin, or how he stuck his tongue out when he laughed.

Those videos when we'd laugh so hard it would sting, when we could look at each other and laugh even more, say one word and set each other off again. How we gazed into each other's eyes, getting lost completely, forgetting what we were saying or doing, it didn't matter. How Phil would pull me close, ignoring the camera next to us, staring deep into my eyes, and kissed me, and I'd kiss back.

Overshadowing all of those happy moments was just more sorrow to come. More tears, more agonising treatment Phil would have to face, his, our, future lay in doctors and surgeons' hands.

How naive we were of what was going to happen, we'd never dream of anything like this happening to us, our world being turned upside down.

And if he didn't pull through, what would I tell his family? What would I do?

Without him, I was nothing.