A Penny For My Thoughts ~ phan

XIII

Phil

A clearing of a throat. Too deep to be Persimmon. Feel my insides tighten by the means of brown hair, brown eyes, black clothes. Lurking in the corner, it almost seems like they're death itself, luring me in with a dazzling smile, the delicious taste of revenge tinting their lips princess pink. It's terrifying.

"Hello," Burgundy says, untangling their legs and lifting themself up. "Are you two looking for something? If so, I'd be glad to help."
 
"Um," I muse, peering down at Persimmon for guidance. She just stares at them. "Actually, yes we are. In fact, we were looking for you. You're the person who got rampaged by my bees, right? Sorry about that, by the way." I force myself to chuckle.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. Are you thinking of my twin, Dan Howell?"

I blink. Shake my head just barely. Surely I wasn't actually expecting...

"You know, that's probably it. I'm sorry for disturbing you. We'll just get out of your hair, then."

In my head, I see a successful escape. Persimmon and I flee the planetarium without another question uttered. With only some loose change in our pockets we start a whole new life in the country a dart lands on. By the time the sun goes up the next day, Not Burgundy forgets everything and the sound of my voice. In a perfect world.

In this world, "Wait! You know he's dead." A pause. "Don't you?"

Persimmon remains quiet, transfixed. This time, on me. I wonder if she heard the accusation in their tone, too.

The lie comes out before my brain knows where it's going. It fills up the vacant room. It's so big it blocks out the light from the stars.

"Oh my god. No, I-I wasn't aware. I am so sorry for your loss."

"Oh," they say, any confidence from their previous statement rolling off and away from their sunken shoulders. "Thank you. I appreciate that. It certainly hasn't been easy."

I make a noise of agreement, trying not to let the fear show.

"You can call me Persimmon, she/her, by the way." She's talking to Not Burgundy but the reminder is helpful for myself as well. The brightness hasn't gotten dimmer just for them and I. Persimmon is here, too. My best friend. "And this is my he/him friend, Phil."

"It's nice to meet you. Both of you," they reply, their eyes jumping from Persimmon to me to Persimmon to me, the definition of awkwardness if I've ever heard it. They finally settle on me. This is not Burgundy, not him at all, yet I can't help but be captivated by brown irises as rich as the earth, a perfect copy of a beauty I thought I would never see again. "If you don't mind my asking, how did you know my brother?"

The truth comes out before my brain knows who it's for.

"We weren't very close, actually. There was an incident yesterday and I was way out of line so I thought it best to apologize."

"And I'm here because someone doesn't know how to drive," Persimmon states, piping in from over my shoulder. I roll my eyes. Not Burgundy grins widely.

"I'm sure he would've been very grateful that you thought to do that."

I can only hope so.

"You know, I don't think I caught your name," I inquire, finding myself genuinely interested in what they have to say. Look at that, I'm already moving on from the despicable way in which I wronged Dan. The very brother of the person I'm gaily carrying on a conversation with now, leading them to believe I know only kind words and deserve their attention. What am I doing?

"My name? Oh, of course. I can be kind of slow sometimes, you see. It's, um, Bellamy, he/him. Bellamy Howell."

Hmm. He doesn't really look like a Bellamy. And although he's not Dan, something about him still makes me think of that rugged red color. As if it's written in the stars. Oh well. Another shade will come to me soon enough. In the meantime, Not Burgundy will have to do.

"Well then Bellamy, it's been nice chatting with you but I think it's about time we get going back home," I respond, indicating Persimmon by lightly grasping her arm, keeping a smile on my face all the while.

"Yes, of course," he says curtly, only just meeting my eyes at his words. For a second there, he seemed distracted by something before deciding a simple three word phrase was what really mattered. Or at least, what should matter. "I need to get home, too, actually. I'll just walk out with you guys, if that's okay."

Gosh, he's so polite. Ugh. Why is he making this so hard on me?

"Yeah. Definitely."