Playing With Fire || d.h

44. Conflict Literally Eveywhere

A/N: I know Dan and Phil's radio show doesn't exist anymore, but it helps with the story, so everything's gonna be okay. Enjoy the chapter :)
P.S. those pictures of Dan are literally my favorite thing ever like how the fuck can someone be that hot?

Your POV

One week later

We still have no idea who could've been the one to break into the apartment. There's a camera in the hallway, but of course Dan and Phil's door is in it's blind spot. Phil had printed out a sign that says "Close the Door" and taped it to the door, which Dan finds ironic, since he's sure it was Phil who had forgotten to close it.

Dan and I had a "talk," and I told him I forgave him from assuming it had been me to take his pills. However, I think I'm only forcing myself to think that, as I can't let myself lose him, or I'd be throwing away everything good in my life I've found in the months it's been since I've moved. He asked me where I had gotten the weed, and I told him I had bought it from some sketchy dude I found in town, not telling him about the stash I already have. He didn't try and dig further into that, but part of me thinks he just wants to avoid the topic, hoping it will just blow over.

I still feel tension between us, but I think that might just be my doing. I can't give up the hostility I put up whenever we're in the same room, and I hope it's not obvious that I'm basically avoiding him. Yes, I laugh at his jokes, go out with him, and have conversations, but it's almost completely forced.

I just want everything to go back to the way it was. I'm just hoping I can fake it until it gets back to this point.

On another note, all but one of my sweatshirts at Dan's apartment have been stolen, and the one that hadn't been taken was in Dodie's room, as she had borrowed it a few days ago. Everyone's room had a few things misplaced, as if someone had hastily fumbled through their belongings, but there's nothing noticeable missing. It's understandable why someone would steal pills, but why wouldn't they just take the whole bottle? And why would they only take my sweatshirts, or just sweatshirts in general?

I'm currently sitting in my own apartment, editing a new video. This past week I've spent mostly here, because I kinda just want to be alone a lot more than usual. On the bright side, I've been able to make it a lot more homey. I've dusted and swept, done my laundry and put it away in my own closet, gotten groceries to put in my own kitchen, and even splurged on some new decor, along with new clothes, as the weather has been changing a lot in the last few weeks. I had gotten a few posters, curtains, and just relatively more colorful things to make my apartment more of a reflection of myself. I even went to a few bookstores to fill the built-in bookshelves that came in my room, and even though there's still an enormous amount of empty space, it still looks a bit better.

I start uploading the video, and walk to the kitchen, plopping some waffles in my toaster and grabbing a few ingredients from the fridge. I prepare some lettuce, sliced tomatoes, avocados, turkey, and a few other things. Once the two waffles pop out of the toaster, I pull them up, and assemble my sandwich. I haven't made a sandwich using waffles since I was probably nine years old. My mom and I would do this multiple times a week, until her boyfriend moved and and she started investing all her time and attention into him. I cut the sandwich in half with a knife, and take a large bite. Just a touch of nostalgia creeps in and a drop of sadness mixes with the content that came from the delicious bite.

I finish the sandwich, clean up the dishes, and lean against the island, thinking of something to do. I decide to go for the one thing I always do when I'm bored, and scroll through some comments on my recent uploads.

You look tired. You doing okay?

Are you ever going to explain what's happening between you and Dan?