Aftershocks ➳ Philkas/Eyewitness

06

Episode Six: Table for Two

"You're awful at this," Lukas laughs, watching amusedly as Philip fails to kill the green-skinned zombie on the screen. He cluelessly bashes random buttons on the Xbox controller. Pixelated blood splatters across the large television on Lukas's wall, making Philip jump a little and curse under his breath.

They're both sitting on giant bean bag chairs, and Philip has his legs draped casually over Lukas's lap. He pouts his bottom lip and angrily tosses the controller aside. Lukas can't help but laugh again.

"You're cute when you're frustrated," Lukas coos, smiling fondly.

Philip rolls his eyes. "You're stupid."

"You're just angry 'cause you suck at videogames."

"It's not my fault! Your controller must be broken or something."

Lukas hums. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, dude."

Philip scoffs and playfully punches his shoulder. "I hate you."

Lukas just smirks and wraps his arms around the smaller boy, pulling him against his warm chest. Philip tucks his head into the crook of his neck and pouts against his skin. Lukas threads his hands through his soft brunet hair, absentmindedly twirling the loose chocolate waves around his fingers. In a matter of seconds, the playful pout on his lips turns into a sleepy smile.  

"It's getting late," Lukas muses, glancing out the nearby window.

The sun is starting to disappear into the distant horizon. The sky looks like a canvas of pink and orange brush strokes. The rolling fields of the Waldenbeck farm seem endless from here, as if they span for miles and miles to the edge of the earth.

Philip makes a sound of discontent in the back of his throat. He shifts around to look out the window, but Lukas keeps his arm draped across his shoulder. The blue bean bag crinkles beneath his weight.

"Wanna stay the night with you and look at the stars," Philip sighs quietly, eyes twinkling. "It's so nice out here, y'know? No light pollution like the city."

Lukas bites his lip hesitantly. "Philip—"

"I know, I know. I have to leave before your dad gets home from work. I'm not supposed to be here," Philip mumbles, picking at his bitten nails to distract himself.

"I'm sorry."

Philip shrugs nonchalantly as if it doesn't matter. As if he, too, doesn't care about Bo's approval. "Whatever. It's not your fault your dad hates me."

"He doesn't hate you."

Philip laughs humorlessly. "Right." His voice is drenched in sarcasm.

Lukas rests his hand on Philip's arm, feeling the warmth of his soft skin beneath his calloused palm. "I'm serious, man. He doesn't hate you."

"So he just hates us, right?" he asks, furrowing his brows. The faded scar on his forehead deepens. "He hates the fact that we're together."

Lukas pauses and rolls his tongue over his chapped lips. "He'll get over it, okay? You just gotta give him time to adjust."

Philip frowns. "It's been almost a month since he found out about us. He's had time."

"My dad's old-fashioned, alright? Just... be patient. Please." He lightly kisses Philip's knuckles, and it makes his heart flutter rapidly like hummingbird wings.

The brown-eyed boy looks up at his boyfriend with a soft, vulnerable expression. It's getting late, and he knows he'll have to leave soon. It's inevitable.