i wanna be yours // phan

eleven

dan

the burn in my chest clogs my lungs with smoke and i feel the searing pain along my veins. i can feel the heat growing in my cheeks as phil lifts his body off of me, and walks towards her. they are talking. i can see their perfect mouths move and i can see their lips stretching out into a smile but my ringing ears make it really hard to make out what they talking about.

"dan! are you that tired from some running?" phil yells and the girl giggles a little. my vision blurs at the edges and i pick myself off the ground.

i'm still standing awfully far away from them and they don't seem to notice. phil doesn't seem to notice. i watch him rub the back of his neck and somehow the gesture of nervousness looks so attractive on him that i have to look away. it hurts more to think that way when she is right here.

"dan, come here!" phil's voice still sounds watery, and i take a deep breath before walking towards them. my knees wobble just slightly and my head feels like someone has filled it with rocks, and when i finally reach them, phil wraps his arm around my shoulder firmly and my body ignites in the worst way possible.

the primal instinct of telling phil that this very girl is his soulmate, is the one he's thinking about day and night bubbles at the base of my throat angrily. and the wrongest, filthiest and the most selfish feeling of keeping phil to myself makes my stomach twist with guilt.

but i just can't tell him.

i feel like my soul would collapse as soon as the words will leave my mouth.

"hey! i'm still sorry about yesterday, i wasn't looking where i was going," her voice sounds like butter, it sounds like someone is playing a fucking harp at midnight. i look at her and she's beautiful. her hair is a warm brown colour and her freckles stand out under the rapidly setting sun. my mouth goes dry as i attempt to respond.

"it's alright, it wasn't your fault," i mutter, pressing more into phil's side to hopefully dull the pain in my chest.

"hi, i'm mallory," she smiles and i force every muscle in my body to return the gesture.

"dan," i shake hands with her and look up slightly to watch phil's face. he seems happy. his eyes are trying to read her, i can tell he likes her presence. i feel my eyes glazing over and i pull away from phil's grip, wrapping my arms around myself and taking a few deep breaths to calm down.

"isn't it weird that we keep bumping into each other? i think the universe likes us together," she says and phil responds in agreement.

the universe definitely doesn't like me.

+

the walk back home is nothing less than torture. my entire body aches and my eyes are flooded to the brim. everything hurts. i look over to the side and phil is walking awfully close to me-he always is, and when he meets my eyes he gives me a small smile and what's left of my heart breaks into a hundred pieces.

i tear my eyes away from him and rub my cold hands along my face to lose some of the heat and to hopefully keep my tears at bay.

"are you okay?" he doesn't care, i know he doesn't.

"yeah,"

"do you want a hug?" he pulls at the sleeve of my sweater and my cheeks heat further. it's just moments like this that keep me hanging on to the false sliver of hope.

"no," i mumble, with everything in my body and beyond.

"too bad," he shrugs and then violently pulls me to him, my face smushed against his chest and his slightly scratchy chin on top of my head.

i fight his grip a little but then he starts rubbing my back and shushing me and there is no better way to break me. even-though i know he doesn't care and he will always always want her, i still grip the hem of his shirt and cry against his chest. his fingers make a poor attempt to stroke my hair so he just tightens his grip a little and lets me have my moment.

"you need to shave," i hiccup after at least seven minutes and phil just giggles, pulling my face away from his chest and wiping his thumbs under my eyes.

"ew your tears are really wet," he makes a face, wiping his hands on my sweater and i just roll my eyes, pushing against his arm.

"why were you crying?"

"sometimes it gets a lot," i shrug vaguely and he swings his arm over my shoulder.

"what gets a lot?" he cocks an eyebrow and i look away.

"it,"

"it who?"

"shut up," i groan and he ruffles my hair before dropping the subject.

--
uhh who asked god to make me fat

also why did i say written by @rickyblitzz in the last chapter that just looks weird and suspicious

anyways hru tell me abt ur day

-annanya