mnemophobia | dh + pl

eleven

a/n: sorry this took a while. In my defense, it's almost 2x the length of the other chapters soooo

dan's POV

I grabbed the last bouquet out of its box, sitting it next to the rest. The new display looked nice up close but as I stepped back I realized it was far too cluttered. It didn't even look like multiple arrangements, just one heaping mass of flowers. I tried spreading them apart but there was no room...maybe I could switch some around? I took a few arrangements from the middle and swapped them, stepping back to admire my work.

"Did you try moving some on the top row to the bottom?"

I jumped, spinning around. Phil was leaning against the counter, watching me with amusement.

"Wh-when did you get in here?" I exclaimed. "I would have heard the bell on the door!"

Phil shrugged, straightening up. "Came through the back. You should really keep that locked, you know?"

I scoffed. "So, what, you came here to insult my security? Is that it?"

Phil chuckled, walking forward and placing his hands on my hips. "I actually came to invite you to a party."

"I'm not really a party person."

"Oh, come on, it will be fun!" Phil coaxed me. "There won't even be that many people there. Fifteen at most."

"I dunno..." I shrugged. "I feel like I wouldn't fit i."

"Dan, I promise no one will care what you wear. Please come?" He pouted, pulling me closer to him.

I sighed, admitting defeat. "When?"

He grinned. "This Friday. I'll pick you up at eight."

"Alright, I'll—oh!"

I let out a noise of surprise as he pressed his lips against mine, pushing me back until I hit the counter. "Ph-Phil!" I muttered against his mouth, pushing him away. "We're in public! What if a customer walked in right now?"

"Screw the customers." Phil reconnected our lips, kissing me slowly. I hesitated for a moment but quickly came to my senses. "Phil," I pushed him away, "later."

"I'll hold you to that," he winked. "So, I'll see you tomorrow night, then?"

"Tomorrow night," I snickered, wiping some of my lip gloss from the corner of his mouth.

...

"You, at a party?" Ian scoffed. "What's he gonna make you do next..."

"Oh, come on, it's not that ridiculous. I'm good with people!" I pulled my sweatpants off, rummaging through my drawers.

"People meaning sixty-year-old women buying plants for their herb gardens..."

"I refuse to be insulted by someone who pronounces 'herb' without the 'h'"

Ian rolled his eyes. "This is exactly why we rebelled."

"Oh, whatever. Should I wear my white pants?" I stood indecisively in front of the mirror.

Ian looked up from his phone. "Nah, wear the violet ones. They make your ass look nice."

"You're right." I nodded. "What shirt should I wear?"

"How slutty do you want to look?"

I rolled my eyes, looking back to my closet. "Do you think this would work? I pulled out a simple white v-neck.