Like Space

Solace. He wants to find solace.

Phil POV

As I got closer to the shop, I felt something bad swirling in my gut. Something's wrong. I quickened my pace, unlocking the door and swinging it wide. To see Dan, sprawled on the floor.

"Dan? Dan! Are you alright?" His eyes were closed, but he appeared to be breathing. My heart, racing in my chest, calmed just the tiniest bit knowing he was still alive. Then I noticed the empty space on the table, and the discarded box, its contents scattered across the floor around Dan. The cantrips, I should've warned him about them...I rushed over, checking the box and returning the items to their container. Oh thank god, it was just a sleep one. And not too powerful, at that...I did some quick mental calculations, concluding that he'd be out for about another hour.

"Alright, you, let's get you upstairs. Can't have you scaring my patrons," I smiled fondly; he looked so peaceful and content while asleep, despite the odd situation. He was surprisingly light, so I managed to lift him and carry him up the stairs to my flat. Laying him gently on the sofa, I returned to the shop and scribbled a quick note about closing early. I stuck it on the door, locked up, and shut the lights off before returning to the still-sleeping Dan.

I made some tea and sat at the breakfast bar to add some notes about my deliveries to my laptop, waiting for Dan to wake up; I finished quickly, though, and found myself staring at him. I wonder what he dreams about. I pondered for a few moments, thinking about everything I knew about him. Solace. He wants to find solace, I decided, standing when I noticed his eyes scrunch and open.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," I laughed, pouring another cup of tea and heating it. "You should really be more careful, you were one box away from the 'passion' cantrip - that one's pretty intense. You'd be in my flat for a very different reason," I turned back to him, raising an eyebrow.

"Mm, what happened?" His voice was thick with sleep, and he raised his head slightly before groaning and dropping it back to the sofa. I brought the steaming mug over to him and set it on the coffee table before shoving his legs out of the way, making just enough room to sit.

"You opened a sleeping cantrip, silly," I said. "Were you hoping to knock me out?" I knew he had no malintentions, but I was curious. "Or were you trying to see if you could do a spell?" He lifted his head when I said this, so I took it as an affirmative. "Just ask me, next time," I laughed, sipping my own tea. "You're lucky it wasn't a more dangerous cantrip, they aren't reversible. They've got to just run their course," he nodded solemnly, then made an attempt to sit up.

"Why....ugh, why does my head hurt so much?" He winced as he forced himself upright, reaching for the tea.

"Aftereffects, sorry about that," I smiled sympathetically. As he took a sip, his face scrunched up reflexively. "And that would be the eucalyptus. It'll help with the headache, so be sure to drink it all," I added, and he took another tentative sip.

"How long was I out? What time is it?" Dan suddenly looked rather worried, attempting to stand, and I laid a hand on his arm.

"Calm down, it's only half six. Are you hungry? I was just about to start making dinner, and I'd be glad to make you some as well." I let my hand linger on his arm for a moment more, and he stared at it before lifting his gaze to meet mine.

"I wouldn't want to intrude, you've already taken me into your home..." his eyes wandered, then, around the flat.

"It's perfectly fine, you aren't intruding. In fact, it'll be nice to have someone around, aside from Margery," I smiled, and the cat lifted her head from where she'd settled on my windowsill. "Please, you're still recovering, and I insist," I hoped he wanted to stay, and just needed the extra little push, as he had in the shop yesterday.

He tried again to stand, managing to get to his feet, but he was by no means stable. I stood as well, catching the hand he flung out to steady himself. "I, uh, I guess I can stay, if you don't mind," he said, blinking a few times. His grip on my hand was tight at first, but had loosened. I made no move to let go, and he didn't either, and we stood that way for a very long minute.

The fact that I couldn't sense what he was feeling unsettled me, and I cleared my throat as I dropped his hand. "I'm, uh, going to go get things started. Stir fry okay?" I checked, heading toward the kitchen and pulling a few things from the fridge.

"Yeah, er, that's great. Do you, uh, need some help or anything?" I heard him ask; he hadn't moved. I definitely don't want him so close until I have a better idea of what's going on in his head...the last thing I need to do is mess something up, scare him away. I shook my head.

"No. Like I said, you're still recovering, probably not the best idea to hand you a knife," I chuckled, and was pleased to hear him settle back on the sofa.

"Okay," his voice was soft, and we were left in silence as I prepared the vegetables and chicken. Soon, the sizzling of the pan filled the quiet, and I pulled out a couple plates and some silverware.

"Do you-" I had been about to ask if he wanted something else to drink, but as I turned, he was standing right behind me. Had I stepped forward, as I'd intended, I would've run right into him.

"Oh! Sorry, I finished my tea, I was going to just wash out the mug," he looked better already, and less wobbly, but being so close made me a bit unsteady. I stood out of the way, allowing him access to the sink, before continuing my question.

"Did you want anything to drink with dinner? I've got more tea, some soda, and wine. No liquor, though," I watched him rinse out the mug, then he looked lost for a moment. "Just leave it in the sink, I'll get to it later," he set the mug down before answering.