dirty water : phan

7

:)

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My eyes flutter open in a familiar room, lights dimmed and a fan blowing quietly. It's a dream compared to waking up in my own bed. I pull Phil's comforter up around my sore chin and sigh contentedly.

The door creaks open and two ocean blue eyes peer at me from behind it. "You can come in, I'm decent," I laugh and he pushes the door the rest of the way.

He sets a heavy tray on the edge of the bed and smiles like a king. "I made you-"

"Breakfast? In bed?" It hurts a little to talk but I try not to let him see.

He almost cringes. "Too corny?"

"NO. Impressive! Fuck, I didn't know you were a chef."

Phil chuckles and pushes the platter of food towards me. "Eat, you spoon. I know you're hungry. You look starved as it is."

I look at the plate of breakfast eagerly, trying not to put my ravaging hunger on display. "Thanks, Phil. It means a lot, really."

I attempt to sit up and suddenly realize I'm basically more bruise than human. Shockingly loud pain shoots through me and ruins my calm and quiet atmosphere. I squeeze my eyes shut and hiss through my teeth,"Shit."

"Here, let me help you," Phil immediately puts his arms around me, slowly leaning me up against the plush headboard of his bed.

"Thanks," I say slowly, taking long breaths, "I'm not really in the greatest shape right now."

"Yeah, I'll say."

I wince as I reach for a fork wedged in a stack of warm pancakes, taking the buttery flavor in slowly, one bite at a time. I feel Phil's hand rubbing assuring circles on my back as I eat, and the banter between us is normal for awhile.

That is, until I break the ice.

"Phil... what happened? Last night?"

He pulls his gaze from my eyes and focuses on the loose string on his sleeve. "I'm not proud of it, Dan."

"I need to know."

"Well, somehow your dad sent a text on your phone saying you never wanted to see me again. At first I was.. I was pretty devastated, to be honest. Then I remembered you were at dinner with your family, so I decided to come make a surprise visit, just to rustle some jimmies."

I hold back a giggle but listen intently.

"When I got there, I knocked on the door, and your stepmom answered. Was it Jess? Jane? Anyway, when she saw me she looked paler than I do in the winter. She told me you went on a walk, so I went out to find you.

"When I was near where I found you, I almost ran into your dad. I knew it was him.. so angry, hateful, a little disheveled. I don't think he recognized me, but he was suspicious. When I didn't see you with him, I panicked. And then I saw you."

I inhale sharply thinking about the state I was in just 12 hours before. "I'm sorry you had to drag me back here."

Phil chuckles dryly. "It wasn't pretty, but I'm just glad you're okay. Physically, I mean. How are you? Like, mentally, emotionally, you're holding up okay?"

"I'm.. better. Not great, but better." I smile weakly and he runs his hand up and down on my back, rubbing circles gently.

"Coffee?"

My smile widens. "Definitely."

He quickly skips out of the room as I try to muster the strength to sit up on the edge of the bed. With some effort and some pure coincidence, I'm able to swing my legs over the edge of the plush mattress.

Phil's bedside table intrigues me so much so that I open the top drawer. It's mostly filled with junk; some old t-shirts, a broken alarm clock, and some old issues of museum magazines.

Whatever those are.

The bottom drawer, on the other hand, throws me through an endless loop of unanswered questions.

A painting, a blonde boy again... striking blue eyes, frighteningly pale skin. Gorgeous.

Dangerous.

The next painting is worse: the two of them together. It makes me nauseous. Their embrace, just like ours a few nights before. The thought of Phil with someone else... it tears me apart.

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FINALLY im so sorry school is keeping me constantly busy!! enjoy this ;)