Phan Advent Calendar - 25 Days Of Phan

15th Door - Anxiety

HI. SO I KNOW THAT ALL WRITERS HAVE THIS IDEA THAT DAN HAS ALL THE PROBLEMS AND ANXIETY AND DEPRESSION. I HOWEVER BELIEVE, THAT THERE MUST BE DAYS WHEN PHIL IS GOING THROUGH SOME HARD TIMES TOO. MAYBE NOT THIS BAD THOUGH, BUT I WROTE IT ANYWAY AND IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT I'M SORRY.

WARNING: MENTIONS OF HYPERVENTILATION AND SELF-HATE SO MY EASILY-TRIGGERED READERS PLEASE BE CAREFUL AND STAY SAFE ❤

Dan's POV

I woke up to complete silence. It felt weird, but maybe Phil was still sleeping too.

Except the time was 01.43 pm. I got up.
I definitely wasn't expecting to see Phil like that, when I had finally managed to drag myself to the living room. Phil was on the floor, his back against the wall. His coffee had spilled all over. His laptop was on the sofa table, and his editing software was open.

"Phil! Are you okay?" I asked, even though I knew he most certainly was not.

"N-no, I just- I just was finishing editing this video, a-and this feeling just came again, it just came Dan please make it stop!

Oh no. This was a bad thing. He was shaking so bad.
He wasn't hyperventilating, but he definetly wasn't far from that. I was shocked.

"Phil, it's afternoon. Did you take your meds in the morning?"

"N-no."

"Have you eaten anything in the whole day?"

"N-no but-"

"I'll make you food."

"BUT I DON'T WANT TO EAT!" Phil shouted. The sound of his broken voice made me shiver all over. He realized that he had shouted and suddendly he quickly faked a smile.

"Dan, I really need to edit today's video ready. Please jut give me the laptop, I am fine now", he continued. His voice cracked again.

I totally ignored him. Anyone could see that se was lying.

"Phil, why don't you want to eat?" I asked in the most calm way I have ever asked anything.

His smile flushed away.

"B-because I look horrible and I hate my body and those meds make me pale and even uglier then I already am", Phil sobbed, and started breathing fastly and oh god what is happening Phil?

I knew that he had had problems with his self-esteem before. But this was something new. He had never said anything that bad. He hadn't said anything hateful towards himself in years. My beautiful Phil. I knew that his thoughts were sometimes horrifying, but I never wanted to think about that.

How selfish of me.

I had sometimes really bad days and Phil was always there for me. But this was the first time I needed to really see him like this. Usually he was home alone, when these things came, and it was out neighbour and our good friend Kate who came here to comfort him.

How am I supposed to handle this?

"Phil, listen." I said.

"Ye-ah."
He focused on me again.

"Breathe with me."

Then we breathed. Five minutes, or maybe fifteen. We were quiet. I listened carefully and he inhaled and exhaled slowly.

I carried him to our kitchen. It felt kinda weird: usually it was me who was carried. This whole thing was kind of upside-down for me.
He always carried me to my bed when I had fallen asleep on the sofa crease. I have to admit, I sometimes just pretend to be sleeping so I can feel his strong and caring arms around me. He is so good. So pure. Almost too pure for this world.

I put him on the kitchen counter and wipe his tears off. Even with his face gone all red and his bright blue eyes puffy, he looks like the most beautiful angel.

My eyes stare to his.

"Phil, you need to eat. I love you, your beautiful face and your gorgeous body. I love every bit of it. And you need to eat right now."

"Okay", Phil said quietly.

"So, what would you want, darling?"

Phil smiled weakly to my soft voice.

He was definetly still in a bit of a shock. He looked like he couldn't speak whole sentences. Then, he opened his mouth.

"Pancakes."

Brilliant.

"So then I'll make you the best pancakes you've ever had", I announced.

Phil relaxed a bit and left out a tiny giggle.

"But you can't even make pancakes", he laughed.

"Shut up, you absolute twatt. I'll make you the best pancakes you have ever tasted", I said and turned around, hitting my arm on the box of cereal that was open on the table. The box dropped on the kitchen floor and there was cereal everywhere.

"Well, aren't you the Master Chef."

I turned back facing him again and saw him laughing. His eyes were shining and his tongue peeked out between his teeth. His laugh was loud and clear.

And at that exact moment, I loved him more than I've ever had.

"Shut up. I love you."