Recovery: A Phan Fiction

Four

Lou came over last night, and went into a state when she saw the place. Of course, her having severe OCD didn't help my case either.

"Daniel Howell, I can't believe this. This is such a lovely flat, and you just had to go and wreck it..." she looked around before looking back at me.

I sat on the couch with my knees pulled up to my chest, a heavy sweatshirt and pair of pajama bottoms pulled on. It was hard to hide the cuts from Lou but I knew she wouldn't be happy if she saw them.

"I really miss him," I whispered into my knees. I didn't really think she would hear me but her complaining died out and she crossed the room, walking over towards me. She quietly cursed as a shard of glass got stuck in her foot but she sat down beside me, pulling my weak body into her warm embrace.

"I miss him too, Dan. But you've been so strong, I'm really proud of you." I could feel the guilt piling up in my stomahch, forming a heavy weight there. I wanted to roll back my sleeves to show her the bleeding cuts, and open the bathroom cabinets to show her all the empty antidepressant bottles, but I didn't. I couldn't.

"His family won't talk to me. They think this is all my fault, that I did this to him." Tears welled up at the corners of my eyes as I leaned into Lou's arms. She rubbed her hand on the small of my back, letting me cry onto her shoulder.

"I know this is hard for you, Dan. And I want so badly to help you. But all I can do is sit by and watch." She sighed quietly, almost as if she were cursing herself for not being able to do more. I felt horrible for Lou, knowing how much she cared about Phil and I. But it felt so good to just cry that consoling her wasn't something I felt like trying.

"But even if it wasn't my fault... They'll still continue to blame me. Everyone will think its my fault that Phil Lester is on life support!" The words rushed past my lips before I could stop them, and soon I was sobbing again, Lou tightening her embrace and pulling me closer.

"It wasn't your fault, and that's all that matters." I could hear the firm resolve in her voice, but it was lost as her voice broke on the last word. This was hurting her almost as much as it was hurting me.

But as I had never felt a pain that was worse than losing my best friend, I knew that she couldn't be in pain the way that I was.

...

That night was my second night in my own home without Phil there. The empty space in my bed felt huge now that I knew it would never be filled with Phil's warm body ever again.

It was in the quiet darkness of my room that I missed him the most. It wasn't only the way it felt to have him laying next to me, his soft skin pressing against mine that came flooding into my mind.  

The way he'd always get up quietly in the morning so he wouldn't wake me up, sneaking into the kitchen and bringing back a cup of coffee for both him and I. All the times he'd changed my phone's alarm to unattractive cuts of my voice from my videos so he could laugh while I scrambled to turn it off.

His terribly cheesey jokes that I'd always roll my eyes at and annoyedly say his name in reply to. The way he'd act embarrassed whenever I caught him in the act of eating my cereal.

The way his brilliant blue eyes lit up when he smiled. The way his tongue poked through his teeth when he laughed.

My chest ached the more and more I though about him. I missed him with every ounce of me.

I needed him back.