PHAN: Suicidal

Sick

The day was awkward for all of them, it seemed, except Jess. She seemed her ‘happy’ self, wandering around the apartment singing to herself. No one had really spoken to each other since the happenings of the morning. Dan and Phil had exchanged the odd word and more frequently, they had exchanged awkward sideways glances. It was almost as if she had caught them having sex, which made Dan feel strange when he thought about it.

“I’m going out for shopping, anyone want anything?” Phil asked, trying to sound confident but his voice wavering a little. Dan shook his head, but Jess stood up.
“Oooh, can I come?” Jess asked, shooting a over-the-shoulder smirk at Dan.
Phil paused, and awkwardly muttered to her “Uhh, I’d rather go alone. I- um, need some thinking time. With that, he disappeared out the front door.

Dan took the chance to get away from Jess while he could, going back to his room to think and probably take a nap. He walked to his bedroom silently, hearing Jess disappear back into Phil’s room before he slinked into his own. He led down on the unmade bed, letting his mind wander. He thought about Phil, then shook his head, knowing it was all too complicated to deal with right now. He sunk into a restless sleep, being woken instantly by the front door being shut.

He glanced at his phone; it was around an hour later so it must be Phil returning from the shops. He got up and padded to the mirror, so no one knew he was up. He checked himself in the mirror, re-doing his hair. He nodded then double-took, his lips were… red, again?! He licked them, and the sour taste of something familiar hit him. It took him a couple of seconds but he recognised the taste as blood. “What the…” He whispered to himself, wiping the rest off his mouth with a tissue. He tossed it into the bin and walked out of his room, a little shaken.

He entered the living room where he found Jess, all over Phil, while he sat there looking uncomfortable. Dan walked straight pass them, avoiding eye-contact and walking into the kitchen. He got himself a glass of water and downed it in one, trying to figure out what the hell was happening. He walked backwards towards the sink again, smacking his back into the worktop. “Fuck!” He let out, putting his hand to his back. It was bleeding, so he quickly jogged to the bathroom, ignoring the quizzical look from Phil and the knowing, sly smile from Jess. He turned, looking at his back in the mirror, to see three small cuts at the bottom of his back. It hit him. She must’ve done them. She must have cut him and wiped his blood on his lips. She was sick, surely? That’s disgusting. He needed to get her away from Phil, quickly.

He cleaned the cuts, and applied plasters to each of them. He splashed his face with cold water, and left the bathroom, white as a ghost.