My Youth is Yours (Phil x Reader)

22

Your POV

"Alright, class. I expect your art works to be in very soon. They need to be in May fifth, so if you haven't started, get working," Mrs Collins anounces as she walks in the room.

"But, Miss, it's still March. We have plenty of time," someone in class shouts out.

"Yes, you do. But, there are two people in the classroom who can be quite the procrastinators," she replies, looking straight at Phil and I. "Mr Lester and Miss L/N, that means you need to take a break on Mario Kart competitions and get to work."

I look over at Phil who blushes, making me laugh.

"But, Denise- I mean, Miss," the class chuckles. "Mario Kart is my project," I joke.

"Hey, what about me?" Phil playfully hits my shoulder.

"I called Mario Kart first, you choose something else," I say smugly as he sticks his tongue out.

"Oh, will you two flirt later. I have a class to teach," she says, sounding a tiny bit serious. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to babysit you little shits ever again," she mutters, a little too loudly, causing the whole class to gasp and burst into laughter.

I turn to Phil and shrug. At least we had an okay start for the day.

~Time skip~

I groan as I fall onto my bed and wince at impact.

Phil sits beside me and looks down, concerned.

"Does it hurt?" He asks.

"No, it's like I got hit by a cotton ball. Of course it fucking hurts. I got hit by a cricket ball. Wait, no, not just a cricket ball. A cricket ball hit by the strongest guy in school," I grumble.

"Let me take a look," he says softly. I nod and lift my shirt, revealing my ribcage, which is a mixture of blue, purple and green. "That must hurt," Phil frowns. "You stay here, I'll be right back." I watch as he runs out of my bedroom and sigh.

When he returns, he walks over and places something freezing cold on the bruise.

"Shit, it's cold!" I complain.

"I know," he says, pulling my shirt back down. "But, luckily I'm here to make you warm."

He lays down next to me and pulls me into his arms, holding me close.

~Time skip~

I wake to the sound of thunder and Phil's soft whimpers. I turn my head and look at his face, smirking.

"Aww, is Philly still scared of a bit of thunder?" I giggle as he glares at me, until I see a large flash outside. The house shakes as thunder booms and all the lights go off. I scream and hide my face in Phil's chest.

"Aww, is Y/N/N still scared of a bit of thunder?" Phil mocks. I hit his arm. "Ow."

We're silent for a while, just listening to the storm outside.

"Something's missing," Phil whispers, breaking the silence.

"What?"

"Do you have a torch in here?" I aimlessly smack my bedside table, hoping to find my torch. My hand finally touches something cold and cylindrical. I pick it up and hand it to Phil.

"There you go. Now what are we missing?"

He turns the torch on and the two of us sit up.

"Cereal," he replies as he gets off my bed and walks carefully towards the door.

I stand and rush over to him, grabbing his shirt for guidance.

After making it down stairs without tripping over and breaking probably every bone in our bodies, we walk into the kitchen and start grabbing the things we need and pour ourselves a bowl of cereal.

We then walk into the living room and very carefully sit on the couch. As we eat our cereal, we do what we always love doing. Share stories.

Instead, today, we don't talk about the times we were astronauts fighting aliens, or superheroes protecting our parents from the evil mastermind, Doctor Dog, at the neighbourhood barbique, or the time we photocopied our faces.

We talked about the short amount of time we didn't know eachother.

There wasn't much to tell. Most of our memories were made together, as we have been best friends from such a young age.

"I think that's all the stories I have," I frown.

"It's fine. Some stories are short, some are long."

"I want us to have a long story," I say, slipping my hand into his.

"I want us to have a long story, too. And we will have one. One that will be still be told years after we're gone."

"You need to stop being so darn adorable, you're going to make me cry," I giggle.

"Then cry you will, because I'm not stopping."

I slap his chest and snuggle into his arms, listening to the sound of heavy rain and thunder outside, whilst thinking; how did I get so lucky?