Vodka With A Side Of Flowers/ Phan

Vodka is quite numbing

*6 months later*
Can't go home alone again need someone to numb the pain

Phil 

He cheated on me. The image of him on my bed-on OUR bed- has my blood boiling yet me sobbing. At this point, I don't even know where I'm walking, my throat burns from vodka, and I think I've thrown up.

"Hey ma-Holy shit, Phil?" I hear a familiar voice, somewhere, I don't know.
"Hey Phil, look, it's me, Dan. Do you remember me?" The voice repeats, the person going in and out of my focus. I feel like I'm going to be sick.

"Phil, I'm taking you to my place, you can sleep there tonight, alright?" The voice that apparently belongs to Dan explains. Yet if my day hasn't sucked enough already, I feel bile clawing up my throat and I can't stop it.

    "Come on Phil." I feel a small hand wrapping around my waist, as my surroundings become blurred. Suddenly I'm moving slowly at first, but hey I'm moving which counts, right? The smell of bile is what catches my attention, and holy shit that's me. Reaching a corner, he stops, and turns to face me.

Dan

I look and see my apartment up ahead, thankfully it's close, considering I'm still in work clothes, and Phil's puked at least twice.

    "You're cute." He mumbles, while laying his head on my shoulder.

    "You'll regret saying that in the morning, let's go vodka boy." I laugh, feeling my face heat up. This is the second time I've saved his ass, come on.
    "My boyfriend of two years cheated on me." He's babbling, but I can't help feel bad for him, cause I'm gonna assume that's the reason he's in this position right now.

Awkwardly, I pull down the hem of my skirt, that's slowly rising up my thighs. Become a stripper, it would be easy they said. I mean the money is decent.  Reaching the elevators, I press it for the 6th floor, and move Phil so he's leaning on the railing. His black shirt has vomit running down the front of it, and his jeans, yea no comment. Yet, his eyes on the other hand, look dulled, swollen red from crying, and like someone  stole the blue from them. His hair is messed up, with parts of it sticking up, which is quite funny being honest.

   I hear the elevator ding, and grab Phil again, leading him down towards my apartment. Reaching my door, I fumble for my keys, hoping I didn't leave them at the bar. Thankfully I didn't, as I unlock my door, leading him inside.

   "Phil, you look like shit. Come on, bathroom, and you can get a shower, get changed, and then you can go to bed. Alright?" I explain quickly, guiding him to the bathroom. 

   His eyes wander across my apartment, which is highly surprising, as there isn't much to it really.

   "Are you gonna be okay, finding the controls? I ask, snapping my fingers to get his attention. He nods, looking dazed, and I leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. Going to my room, I start to hunt for anything that would be of his style. Meaning all I come up with, is a pair of gray sweatpants, with a white t-shirt, which considering the current circumstances, isn't that bad.

   I knock on the bathroom door, thankful I hear the noise of the running shower, before walking in. I set the clothes on the table, and walk out quietly, so now I can actually get dressed. I go for my clear stilettos, stumbling as I attempt to remove them. Which takes a considerable amount of effort, as they typically never want to come off. Although, thankfully they do come off, as my feet now feel like they've been freed from a chamber of hell. I walk over to my closet, attempting to get my feet to stay flat on the ground, and pick out a pair of light blue sweat pants to put on, as soon as I get this hellish skirt off.

     I feel the back of it, looking for the zipper, so I can take that off, which thankfully I find quickly. Sliding that off, I go through my drawers finding a pair of boxers, as I take off the fishnets I'm wearing. I change quickly though, as I just wear sweatpants and boxers so it doesn't matter.

I hear footsteps behind me, and I turn to see Phil, smelling better, and looking a little better.

   "I'm getting water, do you want anything?" I ask, grabbing two cups, filling one with water and waiting for his response.

   "Just water." His voice is still slurred, unsurprisingly, as I fill the other cup.

I pass it to him, and he takes it gingerly, his hand slightly unsteady.

   "So it's," oh shit I don't know the time, "4am, you are drunker then me on a daily basis, and you look tired. You can take my bed, I'll take the couch. Understand?" He nods, setting his glass in the sink.

I watch him walk back to my room, before I lay down on the couch, sitting a while before realizing I forgot my phone. So, I get up, tiptoeing across my apartment until I reach my room. I see my duffle bag sitting beside my bed, grabbing my phone from it, I look at Phil. His black fringe rests across his face, and he looks peaceful for once, not afraid, not sad, not drunk. "You're cute too." I mumble, before walking out of my room.

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A/N

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