Human - phan

Sixteen

I was on the computer again in Phil's room, scrolling through Jakob Beier's facebook profile with a frown. There was no mistake: this was the guy from the bunker. It was a little disconcerting seeing him alive and happy and smiling for photos. His eyes were wide and sparkling, not milky white. They were brown and welcoming and not dissimilar to my own. I grimaced.

There weren't any pictures of him and Phil, they weren't even Facebook friends. His timeline was too full of remembrances and condolences and commiserations to find any recent activity, but he was still 'in a relationship' with a tall blonde girl. There were plenty of pictures of them together, but Phil had said 'probably has a girlfriend'. If he'd known this guy well, why didn't he just say 'has a girlfriend'? I tugged my fingers through my hair. This whole mess wasn't getting any clearer.

Thanks to privacy settings I couldn't see many of his photos, but that didn't stop me from looking for Yao/Skinhead. I was sprawled out on the bed with the laptop when Phil came through the door yawning. I jumped, trying to close the tabs and tilting the laptop away from him before forcing a smile on to my face and a cheery 'Hey!'

"Hey gorgeous." Phil grinned, dropping down onto the bed next to me and slinging his bag on the floor.

"How was media?" I asked, still desperately clicking the 'X' button – the laptop had managed to freeze on one of Jakob's profile pictures, popping up error messages.

"So-so," Phil mused, scratching his head. "What've you been up to?"

"Oh, you know the usual, working and lazing, pining away without my lover." I winked.

Phil's chuckle was like soft bells, it filled the room and made the walls seem closer and warmer.

"Oh, of course. You can cuddle my Totoro pushy when I'm gone, if you like." He giggled.

"Thanks."

Everything else slipped away when I heard his voice. The webpage had finally closed and we talked about nothing, making each other laugh and gently teasing as the sun streamed in through the window against my back.

*

"Did you really just use the word 'verbiage' in a conversation?" Phil smirked.

"Shut up!" I rebuked, chucking a pillow at his head. "It's a cool word. I can't help being more intelligent than you."

Phil tried to throw the pillow back but I blocked it with an elbow, unwittingly bouncing it back towards his open arms. He jumped up, raising the lump of white above his head in one swift movement before I could react and bundling into me – knocking the laptop onto the floor. I rolled him over, crashing us both into the wall, but instead of fighting me Phil just wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his face in my stomach. I laughed, wistfully letting the pillow drop as I stroked his back. Part of his shirt had risen up and I could see goosebumps forming where my fingers trailed. Fascinated, I pulled the fabric up around his shoulders and started drawing patterns on his pale skin. He shuddered slightly, wriggling about to make my fingers hit the best spots, and I laughed. I remembered my mum doing the same to me when I was little, I'd always be asking her to 'tickle my back!' It used to calm me down if I got too hyperactive or annoying, and it was certainly having the same effect on Phil - he was completely limp on my lap.

I trailed my fingers in great arcs and small circles, spreading out from his spine and up over the smooth curves of his shoulders. His back was a mass of goosebumps now so I reached out along the lengths of his arms and up to the base of his head. He arched his neck at my touch, pressing his face further into my stomach, and I bent over him to press a light kiss against his shoulder blades.