Phil knocked me out of my trance, yet he was my trance. I almost blushed in embarrassment at the fact he caught me staring into space, mind filled with thoughts of him//
Right now I was set up on the couch, Phil brought me peppermint tea about half an hour ago, and I just took an Advil. My head was pounding. It felt like an army was shooting their way out of my upper skull and yelling in my brain. Normally I don't get this bad on my hangovers, but I guess I really did it this time.
I did wake up in Phil's bed, his warm, soft and comfy bed, which was nice. It smelled like him. Yet I feel like I said something that I should regret. Phil hasn't told me anything bad, but I still think I did something, but what?
"Here you go Dan!" Phil walked in and handed me a plate with buttered toast on top.
"Thanks Phil." I croaked.
Ugh. My voice was even quitting on me now.
"Do you want me to turn anything on? I don't know what's on television but if there's anything on Netflix..." Phil offered, but I merely shook my head.
"No, I'm good. My head is going to explode so trying to make sense of any episodes of any thing will not help." I joked, yet to be honest I think my head was going to explode.
"Okay," Phil started to reply, then the doorbell rang, "I will be right back!" He cheered, trying to keep my spirits up while running to get the door.
Who is it? I didn't invite anybody over.
"Phil! Hi!" My ears make out a higher pitched yet smooth voice that echoed ever so slightly through the flats hallway, Margaret.
"Oh good morning Margo! Let me help you with the bags," I hear rustling at the door and a bunch of shuffling up the stairs.
Wait, did he just call her Margo?
The two made their ways into the kitchen, and couldn't be any louder. They already have nicknames for each other? Ugh, couples.
"Dan?" Marge's soft voice sounded from the entrance to the lounge, "are you okay? We are getting you some stuff to help with hang overs." She actually sounds concerned.
"Um yeah-" I coughed,"I don't feel too good, but I don't think it's just the hangover, I think I was starting to get sick before."
Margaret came and kneeled beside my couch, making me feel, well, awkward. Her green eyes looked right into mine as the next sentence left her lips, "thank you Dan, for being Phil's best friend."
What. She stood up, I think her knees cracked, and she walked back out of the room to go find Phil in the kitchen. That was random af. The blender started to go off as well, making me grab my ears. What the hell was that all about? What was that even supposed to mean?
Seconds later the blender stopped and as I set my hands back down to the toast I was eating my head continued to pulse. Swords were stabbing my brain, over and over again. Why is it this bad?
Then 'Miss Nurse for 5 year olds' walked back into the room with Phil by her side, and Phil was carrying a cup with a weird greyish green smoothie looking thing in his hands. Are they going to poison me?
My question was answered when Phil handed me the, 'mixture' and explained, "it's supposed to be for hangovers, Marge brought it over for you."
Margaret smiled, "the taste isn't the best, but it sure will cure you. I learned about it in one of my university classes."
Hm, "thanks."
"You buy it in a packet, then we just had to add some little ingredients like mint leaves and cinnamon. It should be fine." She added.
That still doesn't mean it's not poisoned though.
The 'couple' sat down on the armchair across from me, getting awkwardly close for my comfort. Then again if any one got closer to Phil than me I wouldn't like it. I mean- I'm not thinking straight anymore, literally. But they looked happy, Marge leaned her head on his shoulder, holding each other's hands...
I started to gulp down the weird paste, it doesn't smell like anything- That's when I tasted it, the aftertaste.
Imagine an extremely sour apple that had rotted in the sun for a week, topped with mustard and then mushed to a goop for people with hangovers to drink. That's basically it.
"Does it taste okay Dan? It's not supposed to but..." Margaret asked me after Phil turned on the television.
"No, it does not taste okay." I stated bluntly. I don't care if she thinks it's rude, to be honest.
Nodding, she stood up and took my empty cup away to the kitchen. Muttering my thanks I turned to look up at Phil, who was smiling ever so happily at Marge as she left the room.
"Do you like Marge?" Phil's next question surprised me.
Do I actually like Marge? I can't really say no so, a small little yes can't hurt, "Yeah, she's a nice girl Phil."
Phil just nodded at my response and turned back toward the television screen. Do I like Margaret? I don't really have a reason not to except for her comment on drop outs the other day. Oh and that she gave me gross rotten apple 'treatment.' And the fact she took Phil.
Can't do anything about that.
While the two sat beside each other, Phil's arm around Marge's shoulders, my mind raced. Am I straight? I'm not really sure any more. Do I even feel slightly attracted to girls? I haven't felt that way towards one for years. Am I gay? Why is this so hard? Why should I care if I'm straight or not? I mean, the whole world basically thinks I'm gay any way so they shouldn't care. I'm so confused.
I kept thinking, but halfway through my quick thoughts my vision started to go blurry. Things started to go dark. "Phil?! What's happening?" I think I said- yet I'm not sure if it came out in a functioning sentence.
Next thing I knew everything was black and I could feel my head hit the side of the couch softly as my senses fazed out completely... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I know this isn't a really eventful chapter but I wanted to make you get to know Marge a little more through Dans perspective.
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Also, I know it's kind of short buuut I wrote an 'extra chapter,' which is a chapter that the plot doesn't really need, but it helps you understand somethings maybe.
And it helps my writers block so win win.
It will be shorter than most chapters, all of my other chapters are over 1000 words, but the extras might range from 500-900 words. Whatever I feel like!
