truth or dare // phan au

seventy-one

after the funeral, ms. lester invites me  over to her house for a cup of tea. on the way there, i could tell that she was holding back tears as we talked about the service, i wanted to change the subject, but she just kept going on about how lovely it all was, and how great what i said was. i decided not to tell her that i had no fucking clue what i said since i made it all up on the spot and can hardly remember a thing these days.
we pull into the small driveway of the small house.
"lets go inside." she says with a smile, but her eyes are sad, and full of pain. anyone else would have thought that it was a genuine smile, but i know how she feels, i know how easy it is to fake a smile.
i open the door on my side and them rush over to open her door as well.
"thank you, dan. you're such a sweet boy, thank you." i have a feeling that she isn't just talking about me opening a door for her.
ms. lester and i walk into the house. i immediately feel nauseous as a wave of familiar scents hit me. i need to sit down.
"can i use the bathroom?"
"sure, it's just down the hall." she points to a door a little bit further away than where we are standing now.
"hold up," i hesitate. "how do you take your tea?"
"oh, um, just some sugar, thank you."
"mhm." she nods as i walk off in the opposite direction of her.
a few minutes later, i end up puking into the toilet.
"shit." i say, and slide down to sit on the floor.
i sigh and wash my hands, and try to cool down by rinsing my face with cold water.
i walk out into the kitchen.
"ms. lester-"
"oh, please, call me carol."
"okay, um, carol, i was just wondering if it would be okay with you for me to go up to his room?" i gulp. shit. i shouldn't have asked. that was rude. fuck. i'm an idiot.
"of course, i haven't gotten around to packing up or anything, so, everything is just as my son left it." she looks away, and pulls down two teacups from a cupboard.
"thank you."
"just come back down in a few minutes, the tea will be ready."
"got it."
i make my way to phils room. i walk slowly, making sure to take everything in. i touch the walls, every dent and scratch, wondering if it had been caused by phil or his brother when they were kids, i imagine phil, when he was young, and healthy and happy, his natural ginger hair and freckles so similar to his mothers. i release a sigh.
i push the creaky, wooden door open.
fuck.
i hit the light switch next to the door.
my hands shake. my legs act as though they're noodles.
i sit myself down onto the soft, blue-green-purple duvet. and just sit there. letting the feeling take over. i imagine everything that happened in this room.
i close my eyes.
i can almost hear his voice, his laugh. i can almost see him.
almost.
i blink my eyes a few times to readjust them to the bright lighting.
i walk over to his closet.
theres a red sweatshirt in there, it looks new. there's still a tag on it.
i keep looking.
i see a blue sweatshirt, i'd seen him wear it dozens of times. i'm instantly hit with a wave of nostalgia and sadness.
i gently take it off the hanger with my shaky fingers and pull it over my head and arms.
i stumble over to a mirror.
i hug myself- wishing that i could be hugging him instead.
all i want to do is hold him.
i just want to hold him.

a/n: do u guys have any good destiel fanfiction recommendations ?