Alternate (Phan)

46*This Phil

Dan

I sat huddled in the corner of the tent, my now oversized jumper spread across my shoulders with the hood above my head. I was hungry, tired and agitated, not that I'd admit out loud to any of the three.

Everything was hard work and Phil was growing more irritable by the second. He seemed to get pissed off with every movement and sound. I know he's fed up with being stuck to bed rest with his ankle, but can't he at least find positivity in the fact that he doesn't have to have it raised constantly anymore? I don't know what happened to my Phil; my literal shining sun of optimism.

Nine days into his recovery and I'm already keeping a metres distance from him at any possible moment. At least the bruise on my shoulder has more or less cleared up. That's ignoring the fact there are a few others scattered across my thinning frame. I didn't mean to lose weight, but Phil telling me to eat and getting cross when I decided not to was pissing me off. I couldn't cope with the agitated energy I was always receiving off of Phil, let alone the stimulus of eating. It was just another thing to think about, and funnily enough, I didn't want any more of that right now.

'Can you pass me my jumper?' Phil sighed. I wonder what he was thinking; what he thought of himself. I chucked the material over, passing a fake smile too as I did so. I was fine helping him to begin with, but he never seemed grateful for what I did for him, so it was a constant one-way appreciation game. Not that I can say I ever thought he appreciated any of the tasks I did for him.

I stepped out of the tent without any warning, dumping my body against one of the walls in the building. I pulled my connector out of my jacket pocket, pulling the black screen in front of my face. My image stared soullessly back at me. Squinted eyes with black bags, sucked in cheeks from the lack of sleep, a graze on my jawline from when I tripped and fell-

At least, that's what I told Chris and Pj. My skin was paler than normal, all of these even visible through the black tint reflecting on my image from the screen.

'You look sickly.' Chris sighed in pity. I glared back, scoffing at him.

'Thanks.' I sarcastically rolled my eyes, looking away from his pitiful face. He took a deep breath, biting his lip as he began to talk.

'Dan, Pj and I are thinking of leaving-'

'Good, get the fuck out of here.'

'But that's exactly the point! You two are draining each other and I don't know whether it'd be a good thing or not!'

'It wouldn't matter either way!' I snapped, 'If we're just making you two miserable with you staying here, leave.' I gestured towards the side, signalling him off. He took a breath, patting my knee as he stood up, to which I wanted to slap his arm away. The last thing I wanted was to be touched, in whatever form: both comforting or not.

'Take care.' he said. I didn't know what to say, so I didn't speak. I let him leave, watching him as I did so.

The next thing I knew I was holding the wrist of my left sleeve against my face, biting it as I cried into the material. I didn't know why I was crying. Whether it was frustration that I was putting up with Phil's shit or that Chris and Pj were leaving, whether I was upset about that as well. Maybe I was crying at everything from the shitty world I was born into to the bruise I felt on my elbow.

I found a new type of exhaustion. It was that kind of exhaustion you'd feel when struggling with a fever. I still enjoyed activities I liked to do, but found no energy to do them because of this tiredness. I just wanted to lie down and cry. In fairness, that's what I was doing. At least, that's what I did when Phil didn't require my attention.

'Dan.' I heard a small cry out. I stood up, making my way towards the tent. He patted the mat next to his body, on his left. I sat down, accepting the arm that quickly offered me comfort around my body. He pulled me into his chest, allowing me to curl up into his warmth. I accidentally let a snuffle out as tears began to rapidly stretch down my scrunched up face. I felt a warm drip on my forehead, becoming startled when I noticed Phil was also crying, 'I'm sorry.' he whimpered, 'I shouldn't even have to apologise because I shouldn't be treating you like I am. I don't want to Dan, but I switch and I-I can't function as who I am. I want to be me again Dan, but I'm-'

'I know Phil.' I whispered.

'I hate that you're crying. I want to take every bad emotion away from you. I don't like who I am-'

'Phil, don't say that-'

'But I don't!' he cried out, desperation straining his voice, 'I want to be the person I was when I first met you. I want to go back to the train tracks when you asked me who I was and called me a paedophile.'

'You remember that?'

'I remember everything you've said Dan, and I love every word.'

'Phil, please know whatever you do and whatever you say and whatever tears fall down my face, that I love you. I understand you switch and when you do switch, you're not you. That's not the Phil I fell in love with, and that's okay because that Phil came along with you-Phil and I love every part of you. Every part.'

'You shouldn't love the evil Phil.'

'He's not evil.'

'Who says evil Phil is a he?'

'Well, are they?'

'Yes.' he responded. I chuckled.

'I wouldn't question otherwise. See, this is the Phil I know.' I pressed a kiss against his lips before cuddling back into him. He rubbed a hand against my back, slipping it under my shirt onto my bare skin.

'This is the only Phil you should know.'