mnemophobia | dh + pl

five

a/n: sorry this is so late, my uploading schedule should be back on track now

Also, y'all should check the trigger warning in the description because it changes as I develop the plot.

dan's pov

I let out a squeal, collapsing back on Ian's bed.

"Oh, for goodness sakes, Dan, what is it now?" My flatmate asked, spinning around in his swivel chair.

"Oh, sorry. It's Phil again."

"Shocker. What is it this time?"

"He asked me around to his place for a movie tomorrow night!" I held the phone close to my chest, staring up at his ceiling.

"To his place?" Ian readjusted his glasses, "Wow, that's usually more like a fifth date thing...How well do y'all know each other?"

Ian was my flatmate and best friend of three years. He had moved from Georgia, U.S.A. to attend some high-class private college. I had gotten used to his faint southern accent, and typically didn't notice it, but hearing him say things like "y'all" and "ain't" reminded me of his origins.

"Well," I began, "we've only been on one date, but we text a lot. He's sweet."

"Really? 'Cause he looks like an f-boy."

"To be fair, so did you when we started dating."

That's another thing, Ian and I dated for the first year of our friendship. Miraculously, we remained friends prior to our breakup.

"Oh, shut up!" Liam flung his pencil case at me, which I barely managed to avoid, dropping my phone on the floor in the process.

Just then, my phone chimed with another message from Phil. Ian and I made brief eye contact, then we both dove for it.

"Ian! Give it back!" I struggled to grab the phone out of his hand, but it was no use, he had much better grip strength than I did.

"Wow," he whistled, "He sure is heavy on the innuendos...."

"I-Ian!" I snatched my phone out of his hands, glaring, "Mind your own business!"

Ian just laughed, turning back to his desk. "If you're gonna freak out every time he texts you, can you at least do it quietly? I really need to finish this essay."

I sighed, crawling back on to his bed. "You're a nerd."

"Yes, but I'm a hot nerd."

"Oh, you wish..."

"Funny coming from the person who used to regularly make out with me."

"I thought we agreed not to talk about that!"

Ian laughed, shaking his head. "Whatever."

...

I stood outside of Phil's apartment, anxiously waiting for him to come to the door.

I had decided to wear a pair of faded denim mom jeans, a light pink shirt, and a white flower crown. I didn't want to wear too much makeup, but that didn't stop me from putting on a bit of highlight. I quickly readjusted my hair as the door opened.

I was met by Phil, who was wearing a navy blue t-shirt and black, skinny jeans. "Hey, come in," He grinned.

Ignoring the butterflies in my stomach, I stepped inside.

Phil's apartment was much different than I had pictured it. In my mind, it was black with lots of band posters and instruments. I was right about the band posters and instruments, but it was actually quite colorful. Dozens of little figurines lined the book shelves and mantle. Colorful throw pillows lined the dark couch, which was pressed up against the faded dark blue walls. It might not have been what I was expecting, but it was very Phil.