A Hundred Days | Dan Howell x Reader

Chapter 31.

***

"Tyler Oakley. Though you might already know that".

***

You gaped at him, shook his hand after waiting a moment too long.

"Eskild—" Tyler began.

Eskild, who stood lingeringly at the door, made to leave his place in the door frame. "Later, Bambi", he said to you, then turned to Tyler. "Later, hottie", he winked.

Tyler's cheeks stained a thorough crimson as Eskild went on his way.

"Tyler?" You waved a hand in front of his face. He sat back down in his chair behind the desk, as if the past few moments had not happened; you took the chair opposite from his. Looking around the office, you noted that it lacked any creative or personal touches, in fact, it appeared completely to be completely untouched, unused, the white walls blank, the face of the teak-wood desk lacking the pencil or pen scuff marks found on any other office-type surface, and the tops of the filing cabinets that crowded the room free of all substance aside from dust.

"Yea, sorry", he laughed easily to shake off any awkwardness. You smiled politely, even though you didn't particularly feel like it— Eskild's presence had lightened up the mood, excited but organized, and while you knew Tyler was a rather lovely person, you couldn't quite read him as simply as you could Eskild's open book.

He furled and unfurled his hands on the desk. "So how are you liking New York?"

"Just got here", you replied dryly.

"Right. My bad..." He paused as his eyes wandered over to the window and past the glass to a skyline of towering glass. "Uh, so, I'm here, because... Simon and Schuster has heard that you write a mean (genre of choice) book, and uh, they want to sign you for a contract, meaning that they want to get publishing rights to your book before you've even written it, haha..." But the rest of Tyler's words faded as you slipped away....

You threw down a large stack of papers onto Dan and Phil's kitchen countertop. The papers made a loud slapping sound as they met with polished stone, and Dan, sat editing a gaming video at the bar, jumped.

"Fucking hell, Y/N!"

"Sorry, scaredy-cat", you smirked.

"No", Dan said, "you made me hit the delete button".

"Oh", you wrinkled your nose, "sorry".

"Yeah, right", he shrugged.

"No, I'm actually sorry this time".

"Yeah? Prove it", Dan looked up from his screen.

You leaned over his shoulder, tantalizingly close, and he didn't show any signs that of intending to move away anytime soon.

"Be patient", you pulled up a new window on his MacBook and entered in a string of code, "and you just", you added another line, "do this", you hit enter and Dan's project came back on screen.

There was a quiet.

He turned his head so that your face was a finger's touch away from yours.

"I could kiss you", he murmured.

"Mmm, you could", you said.

He stood up, broadening the distance between you. "But first I'm going to have to kill you".

You raised your eyebrows.

He advanced toward the couch.

You frowned.

He picked up a pillow, narrowed his eyes.

Then he bounced it off of your shoulder with a hit-and-run move.

"Oh, no, you don't!" You took up your own pillow and whacked him.
Dan ducked behind the sofa, then came back up to target you again. And so the two of you went back and forth in a pillow-fight that was as equally enjoyable as it was childish. There was only put a stop to the fluffy violence when Dan fell to the ground, admitting defeat to exercise.

"Hah, so I win, do I?" you flopped down next to him.

"No, and some day I'll demand a rematch, but that was bloody tiring".

You grinned and he rolled his eyes at you, throwing one last cushion that you deflected before hugging to your chest.

"So what was it that brought the fires of hell upon us, anyway?" Dan said, gesturing lazily to the papers that still lay on the counter, resting their pages weary with words both typed and scrawled.

You sighed. "My book".

"You're writing a book? Now?" the boy who lay next to you inquired.

"Yeah... I mean, I like my job at The Record and everything, but still, I've always wanted to be an author".

Dan blinked at you. "I get that, I just don't get what's stopping you— why you've only just begun this book business now. You need to get yourself published, get out there".

You pondered his words a moment. "I've put through a few requests, but I've been turned down every time".

Dan sat up. "What did you send them?"

You stood and made your way back to the kitchen. You picked up a manuscript. You handed it to Dan as he came to stand beside you.

"A Hundred Days", he read the cover page.

"A Hundred Days", you repeated softly.

He turned the page. "A hundred days..."

You mouthed the words he spoke,
"And you can't take it back".

• • •

"I have written it", you said.

"Sorry, what?" was Tyler's response.

"I've already written the book".

"Uh, do you have a copy with you, like on your laptop or something?" he asked.

"I kinda wrote the entire thing by hand", you admitted, unsure if Tyler was catching on.

"Okay..."

You pulled your diary from your messenger bag. "Here... It needs a bit of editing and to be typed up and all that, but I think that maybe it's time some people know the story".

Tyler took the diary, opened it to the first entry. "A hundred days..."

Tears suddenly stung your eyes,
"And you can't take it back".

• • • • • •

A/N:

Hello, my friends!

You may have noticed that I redid the cover for this book, changed the title, and cleaned up my own profile. Or you may not have, but I just told you, so.

I hope you're enjoying the book, thank you again for tagging along with both my temperamental writing and my temperamental pErSOnaLiTY. Feel free to drop a comment and/or a vote— it'd make my day!

~Tina x