mnemophobia | dh + pl

ten

           

a/n: when I first started writing fanfic it was because I shipped phan. Now I write because I like to. Tbh, I don't even think of my characters as dan and phil anymore, I used them as a base to create new people. I mean, if you look at the people in this story, they have almost nothing in common with the real d&p. and I think that's okay, I like that they're my own.

I'm sorry that this is a shorter chapter. I want to get better at uploading and I know if I don't get something up today it'll be another week.

Phil's pov

A warm breeze tousled my hair as I stepped out of my car, a sure sign that summer was on its way. The old, wooden house in front of me cast long shadows on the lawn as the sun climbed down the sky. Children were playing in a nearby yard, kicking a ball around. Their shrieks of laughter reminded me of my own childhood, spent running through the woods in this very neighborhood. Pushing my nostalgia aside, I started walking towards the house.  I hadn't even made it to the porch when the front door swung open, a middle-aged woman stepping out into the sunlight.

"Philip!" The woman pulled me into a tight embrace.

I wrapped my arms around the lady, inhaling her familiar scent. "Hey, how are you?" 

"Fine, fine. Oh, it's been too long!"

"Mum," I laughed, trying to lean away as she grabbed my head and pressed a wet kiss to my cheek, "it's only been a week!"

"That's a week too long in my book," she waved her finger at me. "Come inside, I baked cookies."

I followed her into the lounge, a sense of comfort washing over me at the familiar scene. The place was bright and well kept; alas, it also looked like it had popped out of an eighties home decor magazine.

Faded movie posters and photographs covered the wood-panel walls above the furniture. Most of the photos were of me as a child; yet, there were several of my mum surrounded by a multitude of children. They all had toothy grins on their faces and were holding up their signed copy of one of Mum's many stories.

My mum had started writing children's books when I was little. She spent most of her downtime writing at her desk, only taking breaks to get me food or help me with some homework. She published her first book when I was five, then another two when I was six. By the time I was ten, she had eight books out. It was thanks to all her hard work that I was able to have a nice childhood, regardless of the missing father-figure. The strong, independent parent that she was had made her not just my role model, but also my best friend.

I took a seat on the old, cushy couch, reaching for a cookie. Like always, they were amazing.

"So," She began, sitting in her old la-Z-boy. "how are things with Dan?"

I groaned, letting my head fall back against the couch. Of course, that's the first thing she'd ask about.

"Come on, spill!"

"Alright, alright!" I sighed. "Things are...they're good."

The woman pursed her lips, leaning back in her chair. "Oh, come now, you've got to give me more than that."

I smiled, rubbing the back of my neck. "We kissed..."

This seemed to be the answer Mum was looking for; she perked up, smiling widely. "Oh, I'm so happy for you, dear! When can I meet him?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "Mum, we've only been on a handful of dates, be patient.

She grinned, her eyes crinkling. "I know, I know. He just seems like such a nice boy, much better than the other people you've dated."

"I hope you're right," I mused, taking another cookie. "I really do like him."

"I'm sure he really likes you, too. He'd be a fool not too!"

"Thanks, Mum." I placed my hand on hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.

...

We carried on with conversation until the sun sank below the horizon, dragging a navy sky behind it.

"I guess I should get going," I sighed, standing up. "I'm meeting Dan tomorrow morning for brunch."

Mum raised her eyebrows. "I thought you hated brunch? Didn't you once say it was, 'a dumb and basic way to hype up late breakfasts and early lunches'?"

I smiled guiltily, shuffling my feet. "He doesn't have to know that."

"You're hopeless." My mother chuckled, shaking her head. "There's a container of cookies in the kitchen for you to take home. You should let Dan try some."

"I dunno..." I pulled on my jacket. "He might end up dating me just for your awesome baking."

"There's always a risk of your love interests dating you for the benefit of knowing me."

"Yeah, okay." I rolled my eyes, picking the container off the counter. "I'll see you next week."

My mum nodded, remaining in her seat. "Don't forget to call, okay?"

"Of course." I smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. Thanking her for the cookies, I made my way out into the cool night.

a/n: how do you feel about Phil's mom?