505; phan

track i

one, two, and four, repeat four times.

and he flickers into view, his appearance strangely comforting - he's effortlessly gorgeous.

"phil" he croaked in his crackly, pixelated pronunciation.

phils' sight caught on to the boys' clothing combination, his mind following shortly after, "new?"

tan fingertips trawl over a loosely looped tie slung over a round neckline, "yeah," he replied, rough, as his voice stumbled over all but the first and last letters.

"how are you?" phil asked, no question in his tone.

"tired," came the reply.

phil huffed out a lazy lopsided smile, "yeah no wonder, dan - it's 4:53am."

dan groaned, "shit, sorry. haven't slept much lately."

phil nods, he can tell from dan's discoloured undereyes. his cheekbones blue tinted, and the almost-red eyes are on fire, creating sunken purple hues below eye sockets. he has become gloom-glazed where a glow once radiated. he is the unforecasted storm.

"i miss you," dan mutters, glancing up at the screen for a half second. expectantly, apologetically, maybe even desperately. perhaps all of the above.

phil knows what he means, "do you need me to come over?".

"n-no, it's fi— i'm okay" he rushes, managing to show a small, unconvincing smile.

it's not, he's not, yet phil accepts what he can get.