Atelophobia ; Phan

Chapter One

Phils cold fingertips lightly touch my stomach, exposed due to my arm up and supporting my head, and the other wrapped around Phil.

It's Autumn. Rain splats against the window, the droplets then racing each other to the bottom. My room is chilly, so Phil and I always cuddle up close, our legs and hands intertwined together.

I love days like this. Ashy clouds, the pattering of rain, the cosy feeling of snuggling up with your boyfriend. I rest my cheek on his soft, black hair and kiss the top of his head fondly.

"I have to go soon," Phil says and I shift my body down a bit to place my head in the crook of his neck.

After a few moments, I mumble a firm "No."

Phil chuckles and I watch his Adam's apple move while he does so. His chuckle is so adorable.

"Yes, I do. I've got to go to work."

I shake my head. "Nope. You're mine." I untangle our fingers and hug him harshly, claiming my territory. Phil laughs.

"You're acting like a toddler, get OFF me!" He exclaims, attempting to loosen my tied arms around him.

"Fine, fine."

I replace where Phil was laying, the warmth he left there is like a blanket of comfort. I watch him lace up his shoes and nick one of my dark jackets, waving a last goodbye before closing the door.

My tiny flat feels empty, the vibe completely gone, sucked out the door. That heavy feeling I get when I'm alone comes hurtling back and I sigh an agitated sigh.

My drawer makes a clattering sound as I open it and retrieve the familiar orange bottle. I've come to detest the colour orange; it's too vibrant and it ends up twisting my mind back to the pills, which I've gradually started to detest, too. I pop one into my mouth and wash it down with water.

————

Clear water trickles against my shoes, and I let it slowly soak my feet through as I continue making my way to work. Everyone is hunched in their coats and pushing past one another, and the streets are alive with vibrant coloured scarves or coats or umbrellas. This time of year seems to be when people desperately rummage through old Christmas presents they weren't exactly too keen on ... like a bright pair of sickly green gloves or a Hello Kitty umbrella.

I snuggle myself further into Dans jacket, which is zipped up to my nose. All people can see is a tall, slender man cloaked in black clothing and a strip of a pale face and blue eyes.

The door triggers the bell to ring as I arrive at work, silver drops of rain cascade down me and drip onto the Cafés tiled floor. I stride behind the counter, exchanging Dans soaked coat with a green apron and begin collecting orders.

As I watch coffee dissolve from the extensive heat of boiled water, I think about my parents. Do they miss me? Would they ever accept me back? I would feel absolutely humiliated if I arrive at home for Christmas and they turn me away. Actually, I'd feel downright depressed.

I have been wavering on the thought of calling them, but it is sure to not end well. I don't want to argue with anyone, let alone over a phone. The only person I can think who won't cause a fuss and would be okay to talk to me is probably my brother. Even so, as my break draws nearer, there's a lump in my throat I can't seem to just swallow down.

I give out the last order before my shift is replaced by Dave, and then hide myself in the Staff toilets, dial his number and listen to the ringing. I gnaw at the flesh inside my mouth; I am a bundle of nerves.