Without love ~ phan

Chapter XIII

Dan's POV

His fingers on my skin should make me uncomfortable, having him in my house should be unpleasant, looking into his eyes should be a rarity. But behind the door I can't seem to let go of, is the life only my parents and Link have seen. It's pretty, but not. Sweet, but sour. I'll open the door for Phil and he may like what he sees or he may leave before I can even explain. Then again, it's where I feel safest, realest, happiest. A child called Dan lives there, one never has to question what life would be like without the incredibly felicific, incredibly unique, Phil Lester.

His fingers are still on my chin and the colors in his eyes are so nice. Just like that, I'm turning away from him to open the door and to take a very large risk.

Phil's POV

What I see when he lets me into his room is unlike anything I would have expected. Not even if he was exactly the same as he was back in our elementary school days. The way he looked so hesitant and nervous before letting me in lead me to reconsider the murderous family thing. Luckily, what I find is practically the best surprise rather than the most life-altering.

Walking into his room is like experiencing the sweetness of cotton candy for the first time. Pink, fluffy, and so beautiful that you wonder how it's in your hand rather than in the sunset sky.

The first thing I'm greeted with is light and more light. Just across the medium sized room is a window seat with long windows, white Christmas lights bordering them, and four light pink pillows that look like they've never been touched. On either side of the windows is a shelf with various, each equally eye catching trinkets. Pink bath salts, a pink polaroid camera, a pink candle, a pink music box, a single pink flower. Absolutely everything is either pink or white and I can hardly stop myself from flopping down onto the large, perfectly made, heavily pillowed bed.

I don't take my feet off of the carpet as I venture closer to a new sighting. Across from the bed is a wide bureau, pink and rather rustic looking, with two fancy vases, and perfect spheres of roses coming out of them. Between them is an oval shaped mirror with a swirly border and Christmas lights around it as well. It's all so clean and crisp, like something from a magazine or a fairytale.

"Well, what do you think?," asks Dan from behind me. "It's just so," I  start, only looking at him in the reflection of the mirror, mirror, on the wall. "Foudroyant." He smiles even though I'm sure he doesn't know what it means. I turn around to face him so it feels more real and say, "That means dazzling, and stunning." I'm looking into his eyes but his dark eyelashes interrupt me with the lowering of his head. I bet I could count each one from here.

He says thank you with still a shyness about him and I want to learn everything. If I open his closet will I be greeted with the black I'm accustomed to or the pink I'm just beginning to meet? Are roses his favorite flowers? What do bath salts even do?

I'm getting off topic. The only question I should be asking is, "But, how is this possible? I mean, it's so unexpected." He blinks once, then sits right down on the carpet where he was standing. His legs are crossed and one hand is on his forehead, pushing back his fringe. Although he isn't showing any signs of inviting me to, I sit down as well. He's always been taller than me and he clearly doesn't need someone looking down on him right now.

Maybe he appreciates it, I can't tell because he doesn't change his sullen demeanor in the slightest. It's saddening, but it's not enough to make me leave. I don't do anything to try and get him to talk because I know time will make him come around. It's happened before and it can happen again, and again. Multiple agains until they're no longer necessary. Until I can stop waiting.

"It's just," he breathes, and the tension diminishes. "It's me." That's all he says, but it's okay. I still have plenty of questions, enough to be considered a stranger, but I'll just rely on patience and observation. If it makes myself more trustworthy, I'd happily sit across from him on his bedroom floor, day in and day out, with no words to bomb the peace.