(Trigger warning)
Phil's POV:
I don't need to open my eyes to know where I am. I've been here lots of times. Everything smells clean, too clean. The constant beeping of the monitors are annoying. The bright lights make the back of my eyelids red. The lumpy pillow and the bed are uncomfortable. The blanket fails at doing its job; I'm cold. Still, I find that my left hand is warm. I open my eyes very slowly so that I don't blind myself.
Everything is blurry. I was right; I am in a hospital. Without moving my head, I look at my left hand. There is a person holding it. I can't see them very clearly, but I can tell that they have their head down on the bed. Their face is away from me. The person looks asleep so, very carefully, I try to pull my hand out of theirs. As expected, I fail. The person immediately sits up and looks at me with wide eyes. I freeze.
"Oh my god, you're awake!" he exclaims.
I clear my sore throat. "Um...yeah?" I say quietly.
"I'll get a doctor! Actually, never mind. I'll press this thing instead," he says, more to himself than me. He presses something near my pillow before facing me again. "Do you need anything? How are you feeling? Are you in pain?" If it weren't for the ache in my whole body I would probably be laughing at him.
"Can I have my glasses, please?" I ask.
He gets up, goes to a bag under the window, and gets back to my side in a matter of seconds. He was literally just a blur. I blink a couple of times, confused.
"Here you go," he says as he hands me my glasses. I take them without asking what just happened. I can see everything clearly now that I have my glasses on. I sigh when I see that both of my arms are wrapped in bandages.
Great.
The guy has curly, brown hair. His wide, brown eyes have dark circles underneath them. There are a couple of scratches on his face and his left hand is bandaged. A bright purple bruise spots his right jaw. He wears black skinny jeans and a blue jumper with a pug on it. I must admit, he is attractive. He stares at me as if he were expecting me to say something. I just give him a blank look. The doctor walks in with a clipboard after a couple of seconds.
"Well hello, Phil. Its nice to see you awake. How are you feeling?" Dr. Lane asks as he checks the machines by my bed. I've known him for a couple of years now.
"I'm fine," I lie. I can feel the guy staring at me.
"Does anything hurt?"
"Um, just my head and my throat," I answer quietly. He nods.
"Do you remember what happened?" he asks.
"Yeah."
"Can you tell me?" he asks as takes starts to check my eyes with a light.
I cringe at the fact that I have to make up a convincing lie. The guy takes my hand in his once again. I would pull away if it weren't for the warmth that spreads in my chest and makes the pain go away. I give him a confused look. He rubs his thumb on the back of my hand soothingly.
"I fell off my bike," I lie. The dude gives me a 'what the fuck?' look.
"Its alright, Phil. You don't have to lie," he tells me. For some strange reason I feel like I can trust him.
I sigh before spilling the truth. Something in my gut tells me this isn't going to end well.
"This guy, Brandon, found me in the school restrooms and lets just say he doesn't like me very much," I answer, looking straight ahead.
YOU ARE READING
The End
FanfictionDan Howell has left all of his problems behind and moved to a different town, in hopes of a fresh start. Here, he discovers that he is a Protector, Phil Lester's Protector to be exact. Just when he thinks his life is looking up, Dan's problems come...
