Open Eyes (Phan)

Eighteen

Phil

I took him back to my flat.

His eyes were empty. Void of any emotion. He sat down on the couch.

He kept his hands in his lap, clasped between his knees. His gaze was downcast. I took a seat next to him.

"What happened, Dan?" I asked softly. I continued to look at him, even though I knew he was not likely going to return my gaze. All I got in response was a blink. "Please talk to me."

"I can't." He said. His voice was far off.

"Why not?"

No response.

"Why did you stop me?" He asked. I saw his eyes narrow slightly.

Why did I stop him? Because he was probably the most important person in my life. Because I cared about him so much it scared the shit out of me. I stopped him because I couldn't stand to see him hurting. Because the selfish part of me didn't want to live in a world where there was no Dan. I couldn't even bring myself to think about it.

"Because I need you, Dan Howell." As selfish as it sounded, that was the simplest way I could put it. I needed him.

He looked up at me. I couldn't read his eyes, but not because they were blank. I couldn't read them because there were so many emotions rolling around in the depths of his irises.

"I need you, too, Phil Lester." My heart grew impossibly bigger at his words. I knew it was the truth. And I knew that in someway, I was helping him.

I reached forward and took ahold of his hands. They were cold, but I didn't mind. He glanced down at our interlocked hands, and when he looked back up at me, his chocolate eyes were gleaming.

"Can I hug you?" I asked him. He nodded.

I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around his small frame. He wasn't shaking anymore like he had been the whole way back. I felt his chest rise and fall against me with every breath. Slow and steady. In and out. When I pulled back, I thought I saw the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

I wanted to ask him again why he had almost jumped. But I didn't want to push him. I wasn't sure what the right answer was.

Why did I stop him, not why did I save him. I felt my chest constrict for the millionth time as I though about what had just happened. He wanted to die. Dan, my Dan, wanted to end his life. I blinked rapidly when I felt my eyes start to burn. Why? I couldn't understand why? I mean, it was clear that he was being bullied, and had been for a long time. It made me wonder if there was something else. Or possibly many more things. My throat tightened. My eyes watered.

"Phil?" At the sound of his soft voice, I glanced up. His eyes were wide and worried. "What's wrong?"

I debated telling him that I liked him; more than a friend. I thought about telling him that the moments I spent with him were some of my favorites. I wondered if I should confess everything.

I mentally slapped myself. No way. I couldn't tell him. There was no way Dan felt even remotely close to the way I did. There was no possibility that he felt the way I did.

I shook my head rapidly and met his gaze. "Just grateful that I made it in time."

"I wish you hadn't," he objected, looking away. I felt my heart fracture.

"Why?" I pleaded. I scooted closer to him. "Why do you wish that?" I was practically begging him to tell me.

"You don't want to know."

"I really do."

He looked back over at me.

Anger.

Grief.

Fear.

Regret.

Wonder.

And a glimmer of hope.

His milk chocolate eyes danced and sang. Gold flecks gleamed. Those young eyes had seen so much. I'm not sure how I knew. But a gut feeling told me that there was much more to Dan's tragic story. And the majority of it, I was sure, was not pretty. I had no idea how bad it all was. But I knew that I wanted to be there for the boy with mocha eyes and chestnut hair.

"Please. I'm here. Talk to me."

"I think I'm going to go home." Dan started to stand up from the couch.

"Wait!" He paused at my sudden protest. "Why don't you stay here? It gets lonely up here alone. I wouldn't mind some company." My suggestion hung in the dead air between us and over our heads. Dan seemed to be mulling it over in his head. He stood silently for several minutes while I waited not so patiently for his response. I could hear the echo of the second hand as it clicked every second.

"Okay." He finally said. His voice was soft, almost inaudible. But I heard it. And I couldn't help the beaming smile that over took my features.

"Great!" I said enthusiastically. I jumped off the couch and headed down the hall, glancing behind me to make sure Dan was following. I showed him the second bedroom and explained to him that he'd sleep there. I then showed him the bathroom and the kitchen. My flat was small, but it was home.

Dan didn't say anything. He wasn't at all enthusiastic. But he followed me and listened to me as I showed him around.

Maybe it would feel even more like a home now that he was here.

.