BURN ; phan

e i g h t

The bag on his back was weighting downs his shoulders, but he didn't care. Hardly stopping at a crossroads and darting across traffic, he followed the figure that was a good 25 yards in front of him. The cold air clung to the blood on his hand, drying it, but he didn't mind. He couldn't yell after him, he couldn't find his voice. All he could hear was Dan's voice beating around his brain.

You were a mistake.

The acid in his stomach was rising and he thought for sure he would nervous puke, but he ran like hell once Dan turned the corner. He wasn't walking home, Phil knew. Dan had told him he couldn't talk to his mom, she didn't listen, there was no way he would go back home just to look at her. 

And then finally he caught up to him. If it was 5 degrees colder Phil would be able to see his breath. "Dan," He called weakly, but he knew the younger heard him. He kept walking. "Dan, please." Phil jogged in front of him, stopping in his way. Dan's eyes shot up, red and puffy, the wind blowing his tears across his face.

He tried to side-step the older boy but he stepped into the younger's way. "Go away, Phil." He mumbled shakily.

"No. No I'm not going away." He was walking backwards now, Dan's eyes glued to his feet. "I'm not giving up on this like I gave up on everything else."

"This? What exactly do you think this is, Phil?" Dan shot his head up, stopping in his tracks. Phil stopped too.

"I- I don't know-"

"I'm not your boyfriend." He spat. And for some reason that hurt more than whatever Nate could ever say to him. "So you can tell your fucking friends to leave me the fuck alone!" He shouted over the busy street beside them. He was shaking and Phil knew it wasn't because he was cold.

The blood dripped from his knuckles onto the pavement, Dan's eyes flicked down and for a second they softened at the wounded older boy, but he only tore his gaze away and shut his eyes, pressing his palms into his face.

Phil slowly stepped closer, Dan didn't move back. "They're not my friends," Phil's voice was hoarse from all of the glass he had choked down. "You are. You're my friend. They never were."

Dan dug his palms into his eyes harder, shaking his head. Phil took his wrists in his hands, the younger boy ripped away. "You know, I never had a best friend. Never really had any real friends, but I think you are, Phil." He whispered just loud enough over the street. "And I like you a lot," he looked down at his hands, rubbing his thumb over his wrist. "I really do. But I just need some space, okay?" 

Phil nodded, but Dan didn't see, so he spoke up. "Yeah. Of course," He cleared his throat to hide the quiver in his voice. "Anything for you."

The brunet looked up at him through thick lashes, Phil's eyes darting away. He looked at all of the cars that passed, speeding through the light once it turned green. His hand started to ache now, he knew for a fact he would be suspended, and possibly charged if Nate's mom hated him enough. One more suspension and he'd be expelled. His mom already didn't know what had gotten into him.

Phil didn't know either.

Dan reached up and pressed his lips to the boys cheek. Phil didn't watch him walk away, he only watched the cars and the way the blood trickled down his wrist. 

So this was feeling everyone talked about. Love.