The Only Hope For Me Is You ~ Phan

n i n e t e e n

Trigger Warning

You would think that after the mind blowing sex I just had with Phil (was it even sex if we didn't necessarily fuck?) I would be upset to go, but I really wasn't.

He drove me to go pick up my car, I kissed him goodbye, and that was that.

Of course I wanted it to be more, I wouldn't have minded him pushing me against my car door and kissing my neck and squeezing my ass, but we agreed that we weren't doing that anymore.

In other words, it was just sex.

Which was awful, like, I'm only seventeen, and I'm already in a deal with somebody to have sex, and sex only. Even though the sex is great (I mean, I don't have much to compare to) I still feel really dirty, like I'm just giving away my body.

But it was Phil. Sweet, gorgeous, Phil. The only person that makes everything okay when it's shit, that makes me feel good about myself when I'm at my worst, and cares more than anybody else. The Phil that I had fallen in love with.

So it was okay, I guess. Since the whole 'agreement' thing two weeks ago after I got pulled over, we'd hooked up like, three more times.

Three times.

The first time was the first Wednesday after school, I didn't even have a chance to get through my front door before Phil was literally attacking my neck, and shoving a hand down my pants.

The closest place we made it to was the couch, which was way to small for us, so we settled for the floor, which was really uncomfortable, but Phil was worth it.

The second time was Saturday morning, since Penny had stayed over at Niki's house, Phil had me over for breakfast after his mum and dad left for work.

Phil was kissing down my back as I was making him eggs, until we were finally stripped down to nothing, and dragged each other to his room, not even making it to his bed. The wall was the perfect surface for that.

And the third time was well, five minutes ago. I don't even remember how everything went down, all I know is that Phil came over, we kissed, and the next thing you know, we were lazily making out under my duvet, while recovering from post sex exhaustion.

It wasn't a whole 'fuck and leave' kind of thing. We still cuddled, and kissed, and acted like a normal fucking couple after just having sex, but once the other left, it was as if nothing happened.

To be safe, we both turned off our phone locations, and didn't really talk when we were around our friends. But it was better than it was. Louise and I made up he very Sunday after our fight, and things were back to normal. Thank god.

And the best part was, I didn't hurt anymore. Because I knew if i was beginning to hurt, and miss Phil, I could just text him and he's be up my ass within 20 minutes.

Well, that's a bit of an over exaggeration, but still.

But I know what you're thinking: Didn't you admit to yourself that you loved him?

Yeah. I did. I was so hopelessly in love with Phil, that if booty calls were the only contact I got with him, then booty calls it is. Even though if I asked Phil to be my boyfriend, I know he'd say yes, I couldn't. Because then there would be this whole 'if you actually liked him, then why'd you stop things in the first place' and I'd have to explain it about 250 times, all while trying to convince my parents that yes, it is okay for me to be in love with a man, and actually be public.