Recovery || Phan

Trauma

Dans POV

I can still feel his breath on my neck, the awfuls groans sounding in the background puncturing my soul and drowning my mind. I try to block him out, but i can still feel him inside of me, like a knife on stale bread. I can barely contain my whimpers as i feel the paralysing burn as he forces his way into me.

Why did he do this to me?!

Barely being able to process my own thoughts, i jolt upright, remembering im in the failing comfort of my own bed, and not in the stone cold fires of the tiled bathroom where he...

Ugh, why cant i say it? Its just a word! A stupid unesseccary word that makes me feel worthless.  Oh god im crying again, pulling my hair out begging myself to stop, as ive had enough of fucking crying.

I cant though, they just keep pouring and pouring until im laid back down on my damp pillow, clutching my head to get the images to stop. I start shaking, pondering too much on the thought of his touch on my skin, how dirty it makes me feel. How the very thought makes my skin crawl. I rush to the bathroom letting out loud sobs and ripping my clothes off of me, trying to get rid of it. Knowing that i wont be able to sleep with his touch still lingering on me.

I step into the cold shower and grab the sponge, ice cold splashes already ripping at my skin, but im too focused on the task at hand to care for the central heating. So I start rubbing the coarse sponge across my skin until im red raw and almost bleeding. My hands are shaking, as i drag the sponge monstrously across my paling arms. I wince at the flashes of him pushing me against that wall and ripping my jeans off. Reducing me to a mess of tears as he pushed into me with out hesitation. I let my self sink out of the moment, feeling the harsh cold droplets trek across my skin as I completely break down and fall with a loud thump, into a crying mess on the floor of the shower.

I clutch my knees until my knuckles are white and feeling numb.

I try to calm down, i try to get him out! But all i can focus on is him. Him, and the sudden movement i hear from outside the bathroom door, my breath hitching with worry as i clutch to my chest, trying to relax myself and steady my breathing.

Its then that the door swings open and im screaming, shaking catatonically at the looming figure in the bathroom door.

Has he found me? Is he going to hurt me again?

My thoughts are put at ease and im slightly relieved to see Phil in the door way, instead, sick with worry as he rushes to my side.

I feel suffocated in his grip, revolting at the feeling of someone else touching my body.

I start trembling as i break free from his unintentionally harsh hold on my torso and stumble away to find solitude. He looks taken aback as i stumble to my feet with a pleading look on my face.

"P-please d-dont touch m-m-me!" I choke out through anxiety filled sobs as i push the words past the lump in my throat.

Every touch reminds me of him, and i cant. I just cant bring myself to forget.

Phil then tries to approach me again, but i just flinch away, and he seems to get the message.

What am i so afraid off? He's my best friend, he would never hurt me.

When waking up yesterday morning, looking forward to the day ahead and the unconventionally nice British weather bringing a smile to my face, i never thought that i'd end up collapsing to the floor, in a state of hysteria, as i claw at my skin, at 4 o'clock in the morning, mumbling:

"Dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty"

"DAN! STOP!! YOURE HURTING YOURSELF" He says in shock, worry seeping through his tone as he rushes forward, but i stutter away again.

He squats there staring at me, unsure of what to do, a look of sorrow in his eyes, as he watches me freeze my actions, and then competely break down. A waterfall erupting from my eyes.

He slumps down next to me, as i bury my head in my knees, still crying.
Why cant i stop crying? I dont need to be crying this much. Im such a weakling.
i must really look pathetic.
I cant cry physical watery tears anymore, yet the dry tears are burning my cheeks as i sob, on the cold stone floor, in a dimly lit bathroom, at the break of dawn.

I can feel Phil hovering beside me, itching to wrap his arms around me and never let go. But he doesnt. Why? And then i remember.

I pull my head up, chocking back my sob and attempting:

"I'm s-so s-sorry Ph-phil" i choke.

"Shhhh, its okay. You have nothing to be sorry about. Youve done nothing wrong." Pause. "I love you Dan. You know that right? You can tell me anything! I wont change my mind about you. Nothing could ever do that!"

I choke back another sob, not wanting to embarras myself even further, in front of my best friend of all people especially.

"I do. I do. Why would he-"

"Who? Did what?? Dan what happened to you??"

I ignore his question, not wanting to say it out loud yet.
Instead i just fall to lean on his chest, not at all thinking of his body in contact with mine, my skin crawling ever so slightly. But just needing my him. The feeling of his warm comfort as i fall i to his embrace the only thing keeping me from insanity right now.
Inside i plead with him not to  reciprocate the gesture and to just let me be. He mustve sensed this, as he didnt attempt to move. We just sit there. Silence. The feeling of my head on his chest as it rises and falls in a steady rhythm.

I cant help but feel perfectly content, in this moment, as if nothing had happened at all, like it was just a bad dream. My breath regaining its equilibrium, and my body shedding its last spell of shivers from my spine.

But its not that simple. It did happen and i am never going to forget. He wont ever let me.

I push them thoughts out and just focus on my best friend, as we stay in each others embrace through the early hours of the morning, the sun just breaking through the glass plane.

I shimmy away from Phil, ready to get back to sleep, feeling that im mentally too tired to dwell on the events of last night. But then i realise that i am stark naked, standing in front of my best friend, and have been for at least an hour now. I can't help but blush at first, the crimson peaking on my cheek bones. Realisation hits me as start to understand the full extent of the situation; not only can he can see the bruises left to be a constant reminder, but he has also ALLOWED me to stay naked in front of him. I cant quite decide which im more exasperated about. I think he deduces slightly what couldve of happened, judging by the way he is eyeing a particularly nasty purplely blue bruise of a hand imprinted on my left thigh, but he doesnt question it. Ans i dont ponder over it. He only stands up and avoids looking at my southern region, fire dancing on his face as he hands me a towl and i completely take comfort in finally being covered up. The feeling of self consciousness and the emotional pain from that, seeping away as i stare at my best friend and thanking any powers that be for his sunshine presence is my quickly darkening life.

All i needed was my best friend. With him i would be fine. In time. I just needed Phil Lester.

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A/n: hi guys so i know i said updates every week or 2, but i just couk6dnt help myself, i found myself itching with ideas and i just could wait to get them down.

Even only like 1 person has read this, and no one really cares, i cant help but feel excited for the outcome of this book.

Alright, see you next time <3

Edited: 14/02/2017

Republished version.