A Crazy Thing Called Love (Phan/KickTheStickz)

Chapter 3

::Phil's POV::

I chucked Carrie out of the house. We were supposed to be going out for lunch, but Dan needs me, right now.

Dan locked himself in the bathroom, after he heard Carrie tell me to move out, which I am defiantly not doing. Only him, and God knows what he is doing in there, I had an idea, but I hated it.

"DAN! DAN I AM NOT MOVING OUT I PROMISE!" I screamed through the door, I was so scared.

I then heard a wince of pain. I then knew exactly what he was doing.

"DAN PLEASE, DON'T!" I shouted again.

"W-why not?" Dan said from the other side of the door, so quietly I could barely hear him.

"Please, Dan! Think of your Danosaurs! Your family and friends! Think of me..." I persuaded, mumbling at the end, but he could make out what I said as he replied with,

" So you're not my f-friend?"

"Of course I am not your friend, Dan! I'm your best friend, and you're mine!"

I replied, truthfully.

But it just made him cry louder.

I had enough of trying to persuade him not to. I ran into the living room, and frantically looked through the pile of spare keys we had, trying to find the one for the bathroom.

::Dan's POV::

Phil left from outside the bathroom, I knew he didn't care. I placed another slit to my now, semi covered, thigh. I decided to try somewhere new, plus I kind of liked it when he was looking down there, despite my self consciousness, I knew he wouldn't judge me.

Next thing I knew, there was a click of the lock on the bathroom door, and Phil hurried in as the blood ran from my thigh. It felt weird, mainly because I was just in my boxers, because I obviously cannot cut myself through my jeans, but also because I definitely did not want him to see me like this.

He didn't say anything to me, just let the tears run down his pale cheeks, as he rushed to get a bandage from the first aid kit we had in the cabinet.

He placed some toilet tissue onto my cuts in attempt to stop the bleeding. It worked. He then placed the bandage around both of my torn, upper legs and carefully pulled up my jeans up to my waist. After that he held his hand out for me to take, I excepted and he pulled me up, then led me into the living room, not letting go of my hand, tears still falling down his defined cheek.

He sat down on the sofa, and so did I, I couldn't get over the fact that we were still holding hands, I had to suppress a smile- this is not the time to smile.

"We seriously need to talk." He said quietly, but loud enough for me to hear. I sighed, I knew what was coming next.

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SORRY IT'S SHORT