thanatophobia // phan

three

  But the happiness always left.

  It would slide right through their fingers, like little grains of sand at the beach, falling through even the slightest crack in your hands when you went to feel the warmth it held.

  It was time for the next step.

  And damn was Phil not ready.

  Phil drove, gripping the wheel like it was the only thing supplying him with the oxygen he so badly needed.

  It felt like he was drowning.

  Drowning in his thoughts,

  his feelings,

  his blue.

  Phil could feel the blue swimming in his veins, taking over his body, and slowly destroying everything he was. He felt hopeless, like he was one wrong move from losing everything.

  His grip tightened (if that was even possible) on the steering wheel. He held it so tight the bones and veins in his arms were clawing up the inside of his skin, trying to push through to the surface.

  The grey took over more and the blue filled his lungs.

  Phil couldn't breathe.

  Focus on the road! He screamed inside his head, but it was no use. Phil was losing himself in this mess, spiraling out of control. Life had a grip on him and it was ready to squeeze.

  Dan noticed the way Phil's jaw was clenched and his lips were barely visible and he reached out, a simple hand on Phil's tense thigh.

  And then came the yellow.

  Phil was instantly pulled from the grey, life's hand was losing it's grip once again.

  And Phil could finally breathe once again.

  "Phil?" Dan bit his lip. It was already a dry, cracky, bloody mess but Dan just bit harder. He knew this pained Phil and it hurt him to see the pain emerging from Phil.

  "Yes?" Phil's voice was low and destroyed.

  "Everything is going to be okay."