Take Me Away

Words Aren't Needed; You Hear My Thoughts

Dans pov

"Get. Out." I hear Phil say softly. I know I can't do that, can't leave knowing he's most definitely not okay. I just stand there, waiting for an explanation of some sort. Phil doesn't move for the longest time, then I see his shoulders begin to shake. I stand in the doorway a little while longer, debating with myself on a course of action, then step inside and close the door. Phil lifts his head, evidently thinking I'm gone, and I see his tear-stained face and bloodied arm before he can turn away. When he does, I see a tear slide down his cheek. I walk over and sit next to him on his bed. He doesn't look at me. He looks everywhere but me.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask hesitantly.

"No."

I turn, focusing on Lion perched on Phil's dresser.

After sitting in silence for a while, I get up and move to the dresser that the stuffed plush rests on. Gingerly, I pick him up and return to the bed where Phil still hasn't moved from. I focus on Lion, trying to keep my eyes away to the poorly wrapped gauze on Phil's arm. After placing Lion on Phil's shoulder, I giggle softly.

"What?" Phil asks, obviously feigning curiosity.

"Lion thinks you are comfier than me," I say. Phil laughs without humor. Silence. I pause, then reach over and wrap my arm around Phil's shoulder, pulling him close. He stiffens, then relaxes.

We sit like that for a long time. I look at his clock on the wall. 12:13 A.M.

Without a word, I crawl over to the other side of his bed. I slide under the covers and turn on my side away from him. I hope he realizes that I'm here for him, that I'm not just being a creeper.

I don't know how long I feel his eyes on me, watching me, before I feel him under the sheets next to me.