𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝔾𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤 ➷ ℙ𝕙𝕒𝕟

. 15 .

Phil's P.O.V.

I wake up to Dan pressed against my chest, our legs wrapped around each other and my arms protectively around him.

The morning sun shines through my window as birds chirp at random intervals outside.

I remove my hands from being around Dan and turn on my back, stretching. Dan whines in his sleep at the loss of contact, cuddling closer to me and wrapping an arm across my chest.

I chuckle and glance over at the alarm clock on my bedside table. 9:47AM.

I turn back on my side and wrap my arm back around Dan. His arm rests lazily on my side. I wish I could cuddle Dan like this every day and every night.

Dan starts to stir and I loosen my grip on him. His chocolatey doe-eyes blinks open slowly, looking up at me. He breathes in deeply before exhaling again.

Coming to his senses, Dan quickly realizes how close we were and how much we were cuddling and blushes deeply.

"I-I'm sorry Phil. I didn't realize that we were cuddling! I'm so sorry." Dan rambles off apologies, embarrassingly scooting away from me.

I chuckle at how flustered he was.

"It's fine, Dan. I don't care. I actually quite enjoyed it. You were really warm."

Dan's face flushes even redder and he throws his sweater paw hands over his face to try and hide his embarrassment. He groans in frustration.

"Well, I'm gonna go make some breakfast. You can follow me if you're hungry." I say, standing up.

I wait at the doorway as Dan stands up, his face slowly returning to its normal color.

The oversized black sweater I gave him to wear had shifted so it was hanging off his shoulder, exposing the pale skin beneath it. Adorable!

I open my bedroom door and walk down the hallway, Dan following closely behind.

We walk downstairs and Dan sits down on the couch. I stand in front of him, asking a question.

"What do you want for breakfast?" I ask.

"Oh, I'm good. I'm not very hungry." He replies.

"You're not hungry? All you ate yesterday was some crisps while we played Mario Cart and whatever you had for breakfast that morning."

"I had a piece of toast that morning, I always have toast or an apple before school. I'm good, don't worry."

"I am worried. If all you have on a daily basis is some toast or an apple, then skip lunch, and only occasionally have dinner, that's not enough food!" I furrow my eyebrows in concern.

Dan definitely wasn't eating enough. I never acknowledged the problem before, because I felt like maybe he ate a lot of breakfast before school. Learning he doesn't, and skipping lunch and only sometimes having dinner wasn't helping him. It probably made him even more susceptible to breaking his bones.

"It's fine, Phil. I look fine, don't I?"

"I mean- for the most part. Your legs are quite skinny and when I carried you inside last night you were really light."

Dan self-consciously crosses his legs and averts his gaze from mine.

"How much do you weigh?" I ask, softening my tone a bit.

"I don't know." He shrugs his shoulders.

"I have a scale in my bathroom. C'mon, we're weighing you." I grab Dan's arm and drag him along with me.

"Phiiiil. I don't need to be weighed. I'm fine." He complains.

"I'm not resting until I know you're okay."

Dan sighs in defeat and walks along with me to my bathroom. We enter and I shut the door once Dan walks in.

I let go of him and he nervously steps up onto the scale. It comes out to a final weight of eighty-one pounds.

With a quick google search, I find my much-needed answer and gasp in surprise.

"Oh my gosh! That's seven pounds underweight for someone your height! Dan, you need to eat more."

Dan steps off the scale and stares at the ground.

Dan's P.O.V.

I step off the scale and stare at the ground. My eyes brim with tears and I sniff my nose.

"I-I'm sorry, Phi-il. I didn't m-mean to upset y-you."

Phil approaches me and pulls me into a tight hug.

"You didn't upset me. I just wanted to know if you were okay, and now that I know your underweight we can fix that."

The tears start to spill over and I sob into his chest. I wrap my arms around him and grip him tight so I wouldn't fall. Sobs wrack my body as my knees become weak, causing me to slide down a bit.

Phil slides down the wall with me in his arms, so he was sitting on the ground. He puts his legs straight out and pulls me into his lap, so I was straddling him and sitting on his legs.

I remove my hands from being around his body to grabbing his shirt in little fists. I sob into his shoulder, my breathing erratic.

Phil leans against the wall, softly rubbing my back. He moves one of his hands so it was combing through the hair on the back of my head.

I bury my face in his shoulder, gripping his shirt tightly with my small hands. Phil shushes me with soft "shhh's." and quietly saying "your okay."

After a while, my sobs die down to just hiccups and small tears occasionally falling from my eyes. My breathing slowly returns to normal again, only faltering when I have to hiccup.

"You okay?" Phil asks me.

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know. There's just so much wrong with me. Why did I have to turn out so weird?"

"You're not weird. Why do you think your weird?" Phil asks me.

"A lot of reasons. I have Osteogenesis Imperfecta, which is really weird. I'm underweight which is bad I guess. I'm not pretty. I'm too small. I hate my voice."

I could list off a million reasons.

"None of that stuff makes you weird. I think your disease makes you seem brave. Being underweight can be fixed and I'll help you with that. I think you're beautiful. I think your smallness is adorable. I think your voice is adorable."

Phil counters all the reasons why he thinks I'm not weird or not good enough. I sigh in defeat and relax into his chest, still sitting in his lap and straddling him, as a child would.

"Do you want some breakfast now?" Phil asks.

I sigh and shrug my shoulders. "I suppose so."