Phan One Shots

The Boy Who Steals My Flowers

Phil's POV

I stood at my kitchen window, looking out upon my gorgeous front garden; I had worked extremely hard on it for the entire spring, so that it looked beautiful for the summer. Rose bushes lined the sides, little bright green bushes followed the pebble path I had put in and finally two blossom trees sat either side of the path. A smile graced my lips as I glanced over the garden, but just as I was about to step away the familiar brown fringe that I saw everyday bobbed up and down past my fencing.

I sighed, as his hand reached over my fence, picking off one of my prize roses and quickly slipping away down the path. Who on earth was he? Who just steals one rose every day? Well it was every day, but lately it was becoming less and less. He was now only taking a rose every few days, but I still wanted to know why.

A couple days later, I decided to catch my flower thief, so I went down to the front of my garden and stood by the rose bush he would usually steal from. I was stood in my suit and tie, as I had to leave for work in an hour, but I really wanted to catch this thief. I waited around ten minutes before I saw his brown fringe walk up to my garden.

Ducking down, I watched his hand grab the stem of a rose, snap it and then he left silently, as if he had never even been there. My insides twisted at the snapped stem, but I didn't have time to pine over a plant, so I ran out of my garden to see the brown haired boy turn round the corner onto the main street.

I jogged up to the corner, peeking around it to make sure he hadn't seen me and when I saw him cross the road I followed behind subtly. We went along main streets, through alleys, which were hard to hide in and finally up a hill leading to a village. This girl better be bloody worth it, because I feel like I've just sprinted the London marathon. Twice!

He slips through the tall, black gates of a church and I frown slightly at his chosen destination. What was he doing here with my rose? I followed him through into the church grounds and I felt my heart fall to the floor, incinerating into dust. Of course this was why.

He fell to his knees, placing the rose from my garden neatly onto the gravestone beside the one he had taken the other day. His eyes stayed glued to the stone, as he licked his lips, clearly trying to hold back a sob.

"Are you just going to stare, or are you going to kidnap me already?"

My eyes scanned the rest of the yard and when I noticed that no one else was there, I realised that the mystery boy was in fact talking to me.

I cleared my throat and straightened my tie awkwardly, "Sorry?"

"I know you followed me," he sighs shakily, his eyes still glued to the stone. I've probably scared the poor kid to death. "Why?"

"Them roses are from my garden," I bite my lip. I really don't want to sound annoyed, because I actually feel honoured that he would want to use them for a loved one.

His head darts to me and he stands abruptly, "I'm so sorry. I don't want to steal -"

"It's okay. I'm honoured that you would want to use them for this," I gesture to the stone in front of us, as I make my way over and smile sympathetically, while sticking out my hand, "I'm Phil, by the way."

"Dan," he takes my hand and shakes it.

"Do you want to get a coffee or something?"

He nods warily, glancing between me and the clock on the church, "Sure."

We make our way to the local cafe, ordering at the till before taking a seat near the back of the cafe with our coffees in hand. He sips on his, shuffling his feet nervously on the floor.

"Are you okay?" I ask, taking a sip of my own. "You seem anxious."

He laughs slightly, "Wouldn't you be if the man you steal flowers from is as hot as you." He covers his mouth, as a blush rises to his cheeks and he mumbles, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say that."

I smile warmly, "It's okay. Thanks, you aren't bad looking yourself."

He lowers his hand and looks at me mysteriously, while taking another sip of his coffee.

"So why my roses?"

"I'm not completely sure," he starts uncertainly. "She had always loved roses and yours looked so much more fresh than those in the shop. Probably because they're still on the bush."

"Why roses?" I enquire.

"Ever since I was little she would grow roses in our garden, treating them like they had feelings and emotions. She would tell me that if you treat flowers with care then you will feel better about your day, but then she passed and my dad dug the plant from the ground," he gulps. "It's just dirt now."

"Who is she, may I ask?" I raise my eyebrows slightly, hoping that I hadn't over stepped a line.

"My mum," he glances down, tears glistening over his eyes. "She died around a year ago." He looks back up at me, "You only now decided to follow me?"

I shrug, "I guess I thought you were taking them for a girlfriend and let it slide, but something in me changed today and I was intrigued."

He laughs, "It would definitely not be for a girlfriend."

"Really? Why?"

"I don't swing that way," he smirks. "What about you?"

I raise my eyebrows, "Are you asking which way I swing?"

"Yeah," he giggles. "If that's okay for me to ask?"

I nod, "I swing in the middle and whatever way the wind blows me is the way I will go."

A smile grows on his face and he looks back down at his coffee cup, shaking his head subtly so that his fringe falls across his eyes. I notice the light blush spread across his tan cheeks and a smile etches onto my lips at how adorable my flower thief is.

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed this one. I felt kind of rushed with it, but I don't know.

Thanks for reading :P