The colour grey // phan

Doctor

Dan felt dreadful. Phil was losing his mind.
Phil was worried,scared,confused and upset.
Dan could tell he loved him.

Dan had spent the last 20 minutes at the toilet, throwing up some sort of clear liquid. It didn't hurt as much as he thought it would. Dan literally cried when every time he vomited, he hated it. He hated not being able to breathe. He hated that he didn't have control of his body.

Phil sat beside him, rubbing a reassuring hand on Dans back whilst he purged. Phil squinted his eyes and looked away, tears flooding his vision. He never realised that this insecure teenager was who he was in love with. In love.

Phil wished dan could see himself the way Phil saw him. Only then would dan see galaxies and roses and grey clouds, and everything beautiful in between.

Phil always hated the colour grey. It was so..
boring. But the way dan talked about the colour changed his perspective.
Dan described it as the smell after fresh rain, the slowly flowing river in winter, the blanket in which you wrap yourself in when you need comfort. All these things, dan saw in a just colour.

"It's okay" Phil tries to say, but his voice cracks and dan vomits again. It wasn't okay. Dan was sick. It wasn't a stomach bug, or a cold. That was evident.

After a night of broken sleep and unbearable noises and pain, Phil drove dan to the doctors.
The car silently made its way across the road.
It was raining.

When the two boys hopped out of the car, Phil smelt it. The colour grey. He smelt the rain, the winter, the comfort.

Inside the boys waited for around 10 agonising minutes of dan trying to keep it together, Phil reassuring him, and glares from presumably homophobic people when Phil kissed dans cheek, His name was called.

"Dan Howell?" The nurse bellowed above the noise of the other people in the waiting room.
Phil jumped up eagerly and dan carefully stood up and followed him.