Stay a while | Phan

sixteen

Dan sat there wrapped in a crisp warm blanket, legs tucked under himself as the putrid smell of his vomit stained shirt diffused his senses. His tongue felt numb, and his throat was hoarse, while his limbs shivered and his heart quaked from the alcohol still poisoning his system. Phil brought over some water and peppermint tea to flush all the toxins of alcoholism out. When Dan was settled on the living room sofa and the feeling of needing to retch every 30 seconds subsided, Phil sat down next to Dan with a thump and a sigh. At some point in the indecipherable amount of time Dan had been here, Phil put a shirt on, which makes Dan's tired and not completely coherent brain feel dissappointed somehow.

They're both sitting there, Phil with his fingers massaging his temple-no doubt from the stress of babying Dan all evening- and Dan just staring out of the corner of his eye, hoping to find...

Something.

What? He isn't quite sure. All he knows is that the way Phil pouts his pink lips ever so slightly when he breathes out as if getting rid of the stress, and the way his black hair falls into his eyes with the way he is sitting hunched forward right now- all he knows is that, despite it only being a few hours since they last saw each other, less since the fight, he's really missed seeing his best friend.

Which is ridiculous, because thats not what guy friends think about other guy friends. They're too manly for that.

Stop being so emotional Daniel!?!

Phil has lifted his head, and Dan only now realises they've been staring at each other. For how long? He doesn't know.

Phil huffs.

"How did you get yourself into this mess Dan?! Why were you drinking in the first place?"

Dan winces at the chastising-almost parental-tone Phil uses with him. He looks down in shame; partly for disappointing Phil, but mostly for the reason behind it and knowing he can't explain. Why? Why did he do that?!?

"I- I dont know"

"You don't know? Dan you couldve really hurt yourself. Considering you don't make a habit of drinking at all, you hardly know what you're doing. People who don't drink don't just go off and decide to get blackout wasted?! What on earth was going through your head?"

Silence. Ringing in the ear. The clock ticking. That's what seems to be the most deafening sounds in the room as Phil awaits an answer.

Dan just shrugs.

"Well you're going to have to do better than that? Jesus Dan! Why do I always have to be the one to deal with this shit?"

Another dumbbell weighs down on Dan's chest as Phil spouts each angry syllable. With each thump, he can feel moisture build in his eyes. And with each tear falling into his lap, past his lips, as he still burries his head in his chest, Dan can feel himself slowly losing resolve.

"- like honestly, can you not take care of yo-"

Dan lets a sob break free.

Phil really does hate him. He doesn't want to be near Dan, let alone be his friend. It's all his fault. If he could only learn to deal with his own fucked up emotions, and accept the way he really feels then maybe he wouldn't lose his best frie-

"Shit! Dan are you crying? God I'm so sorry. I know you didnt do any of this on purpose. God why am I such a hot head? Okay. Listen Dan. Hey Dan. Look at me"