Panel // Daniel Howell x Reader

72 Romances at the age Youth

Whilst going out with Ryan, I said I loved him. He said he loved me too. We thought nothing less or more.

Saoirse told Sam she loved him. It was  a monumental occasion.

They're view of romance was different from myself and Ryan's. 

We saw our kind of "love" as affection. We never saw it as "love"- per say.

Romantic Love is the feeling of never wanting to leave this person, but being okay without them. It's being okay with what they do and what want. It's knowing so much about someone that you know what gets them annoyed.

Love is not forever.

It's not once in a lifetime.

When people divorce, it doesn't mean that they were never in love. They are just without love.

  I'm not saying that in every relationship my thoughts can apply.

When I told Ryan I loved him, we said it everyday. Like it was just a word. The would throw it around. We would say it in public more than private.

We never actually heard Sam and Soairse say, "I love you..."

Love at age 17 might exist. Love under that age might exist.

In reality, I had a kind of Platonic Love with Ryan.

Two friends who were so perfect for one another, they couldn't date. That's sounds crazy...

I would rather date somebody who I was slightly different to rather than somebody with everything in common with me.

We realised that we had this kind of love when Soairse pointed out how little we publicly displayed affection.
She said it was okay if we kept it private. My life is my life.

Ryan kind of agreed. I kind of agreed.

Soairse left and we talked.

We talked like two best friends.

It clicked.
We weren't   "dating"...
We were friends.

We seldom displayed out affection because it felt weird. Because we never did the whole affection thing.

We seldom privated out affection because nothing happened.

It was weird kissing Ryan.

It was nice hugging and talking to him.

It was nice being friends.

We never told Saoirse and Sam that we broke up, we kept going places together. But more as friends.

It's okay to have a male friend.

I went of  a few dates with guys, and very little happened.

I go to parties that somebody might have set up, and some guy might talk with me and I won't be comfortable. Ryan can see that ; he'll swoop in and put his arm on my shoulder and we have our fake story.

Ry: hey babe, thanks for occupying her while I was on the phone.

Some guy: oh, are you two...

Sal: going on a year and a half :))

Some guy: oh, uh  alright... .

I would thank him and we would chat.

When I moved to the city, we drifted.. when I became more, "famous" he kinda got back in contact.

We drifted again...

Until today.

"Hey Sally, I'm in London. Wanna hang out? Ami avec Ami." Y/N says.

I Nod and whimper.

"OK.... he steering.  SHIT HE'S TEXTING. WHAT DO-" she throws the phone at me.

I sit up and take my phone.

"Wassup Ryan. I'm free tomorrow if you wanna hang. I know a place.." I read out the text as I type.

Y/N is starring at me like I made a dreadful decision. I think I might have..

"I am leaving the house. Would you rather I stayed sweating in my home made sauna." I snap back.

She raises her hands and backs away.

She re-enters my room with a towel and the bathroom door key.

I stand up - feel my legs quiver - and go to the bathroom with my phone.

I play some good ol' Atlas and turn on the shower until it's steaming.

I get into the shower.  It's warm. But not hot enough.

Okay.. it's getting hot. Uncomfortably... not. Hot. Enough.

I turn up the heat until it burns. Not visibly burning, but hurting. Immensely.
I wince and give a little whimper. I quickly turn the shower cold and let my skin soak. It feels raw and looks red. But I feel better.

It's not self harm. I'm just-- taking my mind off things. Off Mia and Y/N and Ryan and Sam and Soairse and Phil and Dan and Daisy.
I'm not self harming if it's just a way of escaping my mind.
I don't want to relapse the self harm..

I leave the shower cold. I don't to give myself the power to make it boiling again. Leaving it cold is like a punishment.

I let my hair soak. I shampoo it and watch some dye rinse out. I get some conditioner in the palms of my hand and rub it through my hair. I wash my body.

I turn the shower off. And I turn the heat nob back to warm, praying Y/N won't suspect anything.

I wrap myself in my towel and open a window. I walk back to my room.

I stand up from my bed. I let my towel fall to the ground. I stand in my room.

It's a mess.

I need to figure my life out...