Opposites Attract ➣ Dan X Phil

Chapter One ➣ Phil

A boy is perched upon a brick wall, facing the busy street. He has dark hair, the front brushed neatly into an emo fringe. His vibrant blue eyes flicker about, watching people pass with curiosity.
He wears a soft blue top, covered with a greeny-blue jacket. Also, a pair of baby blue jeans, and a multi-coloured flower crown rests upon his head.
His outfits pretty much always consisted of pastel colours.
The boy's legs swing gently as he watches people pass.
A man walks past briskly, with a briefcase in hand. A young boy and his friend race one another down the pavement. A mother jogging to keep up with her skipping daughter.
Why does everyone move so quickly? Why not just slow down for once, appreciate the moment. He thinks to himself, fiddling with his sleeves distantly.
Unlike the others passing him, the boy tended to pick up on the small things. The gentle breeze causing the leaves to dance in the air. The satisfying colour palette of the evening sky. The slight smell of smoke, hanging over the wall.
Wait, smoke?
No one in front of him was holding a cigarette.
He glances back over his shoulder and notices the usually empty alleyway is now occupied by a brown-haired boy. His head was ducked as he exhaled smoke. A shiver runs down his spine at the sight of the rebellious red dye in the boy's fringe, the lip piercing, the many ear piercings, and even... tattoos. A skull on his right arm, a growling wolf on his left. Some kind of pattern on his neck.
A punk.
The boy had been warned about those kind of people, especially by his parents whom he still lived with.
"Stay away from punks, Phillip," His mother had once said to him, a gentle look in her eye. "They're bad news."
Of course, as a child that had only made Phil more curious.
He suddenly realises that he was leaning back too far, but when he tries to fix this, his grip loosens, and he slips, falling backwards. After a crash onto the concrete below, his eyes close.

Phil's eyes flicker open, and he sits up suddenly, looking around. He had no idea where he was. Wherever it was, it sure stunk. Of cigarette smoke, and something else, burnt plastic maybe.
It didn't look much better than it smelt. Grey, peeling walls. Old wooden floors. Two doors, both on the small side. Furniture wise, all it has was the uncomfortable mattress Phil was perched upon, an ancient as heck sofa, a shelf full of stuff and a small fridge tucked into the corner. Oh yeah, and a closed suitcase. On the shelf is a single, cracked photo frame, and a couple of dusty books.
Phil gets to his feet, his eyes going to pieces of graffiti on the walls, biting his lip slightly when he remembered he had no idea where he was.
It was terrible graffiti.
He glances over as one of the doors open, and in walks in the boy he'd seen earlier. Only now he can see his chocolate-brown eyes, and stares intently at them.
The boy scowls at him, "So. You're awake."
Phil is slightly taken aback from the boy's accent - very strong British, almost sounding posh. 
He tilts his head slightly, watching him. "What's your name?"
The boy doesn't respond for a while, turning his back towards Phil. Then he speaks, and the harshness of his words - especially the curse word - causes him to wince. "If you can stand, you can leave. Get the fuck out."
"Please?" Phil murmurs, fiddling with his sleeves again.
The boy turns, his brown eyes meeting his blue ones with a cold stare. Phil stares right back, folding his arms stubbornly. 
"Fine. If it'll shut you up," He mutters. "I'm Dan."
"Just Dan?" Phil presses.
"Oh for fucks sake, will you just leave! I knew I should have left you on the curb," Dan groans, rolling his eyes at the pestering.
"My names Phil, Phil Lester," Phil forces himself to keep smiling gently to him.
Dan grunts a little in response. Then his stomach rumbles.
Frowning, Phil suddenly notices Dan's unnaturally skinny shape. "Are you hungry? I can buy you some dinner if you want," He offers, genuinely concerned for the person he'd literally just met.
Dan glares at him, angered further now. "Okay, that's it."
Phil yelps out as he feels Dan's hand grab the back of his shirt strongly, dragging him by the collar not only out of the apartment room itself but down the long corridor, to the front door. A few laughs follow them, as others watch from their doorways with amused eyes.
After a harsh shove, Phil finds himself standing in the pouring rain, and within seconds his clothes are soaked. He looks back over at Dan with hopeful eyes, only to be met with a strong glare.
"I am not some charity," Dan mutters.
"Wait-" Phil notices him trying to close the door. "Thank you. For taking me in when I fell off that wall."
Dan looks at him for a second, before slamming the front door in Phil's face, causing him to flinch.

Hey guys! Welcome to le fanfic!
Sorry if it's shitty at first, but stick with it and I promise you it'll get better!
Anywayyyy
QOTD (Question of the day): I know it's a difficult question, but... Dan or Phil?