My Youth is Yours (Phil x Reader)

26

Your POV

With my hand interlocked with my best friend's, we push through the crowd of our many impatient school mates who are eager to get out and leave, go to their homes.

Everyone except Phil and I, because when I go 'home' I leave everything and everyone (with the exception of Mum) I love behind.

When we walk out the door, out into the fresh Spring air, Phil leans down so his lips are level with my ear.

"Come with me. We have some special last day things to do."

I giggle. "Should I be scared?"

"You should," he replies in a sarcastic tone as he drags me away from the rest of the students, all the people I grew up with, who cause a wave of guilt to crash down on my heart because I never spent enough time with all of them, never talked much to all of them, never got to really know all of them.

I shake it off and allow myself to be pulled along by Phil, forcing myself to replace the guilt with excitement for what is ahead.

~Time skip~

"Okay, you can open your eyes now!"

"You have to take your hand off my face first, you spork," I chuckle.

"Oops." He removes his large, warm, and kind of sweaty, hand from my eyes revealing the only spot in the only place in the whole world I could possibly spend the afternoon of my last day with him in.

Our special tree in our special park.

And, of course, under the tree is a picnic blanket with a giant basket. That's so Phil. A smile tugs at my lips and a warm tear escapes my eye and slides down my cheek.

"Oh, Phil. You've always been the cheesy one."

"You got that right. Now, there's a lot of good food in that basket, can we talk about how amazing I am after our stomach's explode?"

I burst into laughter and nod. "We sure can."

Without releasing our tight grip on each other's hands, we walk over to the blanket and sit in the shade.

"Phil, I hope you're not planning on putting me in a food coma to keep me from leaving," I joke, staring at the giant food basket.

"That's actually a good idea." I smack his arm. "Kidding! And it's not just food. I may have brought a few other things."

"That's such a Phil thing to do."

"Well we can't say goodbye without this one last time," he cheekily grins as he pulls out a sharpie.

"Whiskers?"

"Whiskers," he replies cheerfully, trying to hold back the pain that I can still hear in his voice.

"Go on, then," I giggle as he pulls off the lid and leans in.

After he's done, I take the sharpie and draw the whiskers, giggling the entire time.

"What's next, then?" I ask as I stare at the huge basket, my mouth watering.

He grins and begins to pull out all the foods we used to, and still do, love to eat.

Popcorn, dry cereal, cookies, cakes and a bunch of sweets and chocolates.

"I wanted to bring icecream but it would probably melt so we might just have to wait until later. But for now, we have all of this. And I made sure that none of it is healthy, because healthy food doesn't help with sadness."