Cheater ; Phan ~ completed

4

(Dan)

I ended up sitting against my door, hugging a pillow and wishing it was the arms of my boyfriend. If I can even call him that. 

When I managed to stop crying, I leaned my head back against the door, taking in the silence. But it wasn't completely silent. I frown, hearing soft gasping breaths, and sobs. 

He's hurting too. 

I can't talk to him. Not now. But I can write.

I get up, grabbing a piece of paper and writing out. 

How long have you been sitting here? 

I slip the paper under the door, my heart skipping a beat. I almost wish I didn't do that. 

Soon enough I hear a sniffle, and a few footsteps. A minute later, the paper reappears in front of me. 

So long its kind of embarrassing.

I laugh through the tears, my heart aching. 

I love you. 

I scratch that out. 

Sorry for doing it this way.. it's kind of easier than talking.

I put the paper back under the door and wait for a response.

It's okay. I get it. and I love you too.

I shake my head at the note, wanting to cry again. 

I scratched that out for a reason you dork. 

Then back under the door it went. 

I know.  I miss you Bear

"You're not allowed to miss me asshole." I mutter, chuckling although it hurts.

"But I do." He mumbles in reply. 

Stop it then. Because reading that hurts. And hearing it is worse. 

I slip the paper under the door again. 

It's the truth. But, I hate myself for doing it, Dan. I really do. 

"You should." I whisper, knowing he probably heard me. 

"I know." He whispers back. 

I hate you. 

I send the paper back to him, regretting it instantly. 

"I know." He mutters, sounding choked up. Silence, then the paper is back in front of me. 

You should hate me. 

"I don't, really." I mumble back honestly, writing on the almost full paper again. 

I just want to.

"I know." He whispers. 

"Do you?" I ask, leaning my head against the door as the paper comes back my way. 

Not well enough, no. 

Then I get the urge to push away the other conversations.. And finally, to ask what's been on my mind. So I do. 

Do you love me, Phil? Did you ever? 

I do. I always did. 

Can you say it to me then? 

"I love you." 

I'm not lying when I say that, Dan. 

Tears fall onto the page as I read the words, so desperately wanting to believe them. 

Would you say it to my face, and be honest? 

"Yes."

So I hesitate, but unlock the door, backing up and pulling the door open. 

(449)