Dan's POV
I needed release.
I needed it so fucking bad.
But Phil doesn't like cutters.
Phil won't ever know.
I can't.
Just a few.
Making my way over to the bathroom, I found one of my blades and brought it with me as I sat down on the edge of my bed.
The metallic gleam.
The sharp point.
I needed it on my skin.
I wanted to feel pain.
To see blood.
To feel the sting the next day.
I deserved it.
The blade left my hand as I dropped it on the floor.
Why are you fighting this?
I know what's best for you.
No.
I need to be strong.
I returned the blade to the cupboard, before sitting myself at my piano.
Music.
My hands dashed quickly over the keys, and I focused on the melody.
The song drowned out my mind.
It worked, and I played for an hour straight, until I was ready to go to bed.
It was only 5pm, but I was utterly exhausted from battling myself all day.
I got into bed, my head hitting the pillow and duvet covering me like a shield.
I hoped Phil hadn't noticed anything.
That he thought the walk helped.
That I was happy, and recovering.
But I wasn't getting better.
I was falling.
Deeper than before.
And this time, I didn't know if I would make it out the other side.
YOU ARE READING
Bring Me Home // Phan
FanfictionDan is secretly suffering from depression. On the outside he seems bubbly and happy, but on the inside he wishes for it to all be over. When his friend, Phil, unexpectedly invites him to stay at his apartment, Dan struggles to keep up the glass that...
