Why I have trust issues: phan

Why I have trust issues: phan (3)

*phil's POV*

'Next!' the receptionist called and I sauntered over to the desk, 'ah, Phillip, nice to see you again,' she paused 'you look awfully pale.'

'Yes,' I sighed 'that's the problem, uh, you see, I fainted in class,' I said, handing over the green slip provided by Miss Clarke.

'Poor you, please have a seat, I'll phone your mum,' she looked up from her paperwork, smiled slightly and called 'next!' before I even had the chance to walk away.

I took a seat on a scruffy blue armchair two seats away from the new boy.

I took out my phone and texted Carley, knowing it would be off during lessons, ill b fine x ttyl txt me th hw <3

I knew it would be at least forty minutes before my Mother arrived so I took out my copy of A Song Of Ice And Fire and began reading.

"I call that madness, not courage," said Arstan Whitebeard , when the solemn little scribe was done. He tapped the end of his hardwood staff against-

'Hey,' the new boy said, moving one seat up, 'is that Game of Thrones?' he asked, biting his bottem lip.

I looked at him and my stomach turned over, god he looked sexy doing that...

'Uh yeah, I've read all of them but this one's probably my favourite,' I blurted out too loudly and the receptionist sends her disapproving eyes in my direction.

The new boy laughed and apologised 'for that' and took his phone out if his bag.

I marvelled at the sleek, shining iPhone he held in his hand as he swiped it open.

'Um... is that the new model?' I asked quietly, hoping somewhat he hadn't heard me.

Yes, he nodded, and passed it over to me.

At first I was reluctant to take it and felt somewhat ashamed of my cheap Nokia that was only good for calling and texting, but after a small prompt from him I took the phone.

As I took it in my hand I felt the new boy's skin against mine, like electricity coursing through my veins, his tan, supple skin brushing ever so slightly against my pale, slightly shaking hand.

After a quick scroll around I handed it back to him.

'Thanks,' I mumbled, 'I'm Phil, by the way.'

'Dan,' he replied, 'Dan Howell,' his voice like molten gold with rich chocolate eyes to match.

'So what are you in for?' I joked, my sense of humour was dry at best, but to my surprise I got a small, breathy laugh from him.

'New school, uh... form 11k I think... yeah that's right,' he said glancing down at some notes written in the back of his hand, 'that's... room n8 I think.'

My heart leapt at the thought that he was in my form, supposing he isn't tainted by rumours we could be friends, I theorised.

'Same!' I exclaimed, almost too enthusiastically, 'I would show you around but I'm getting off sick.'

Even hearing myself say the word sick made me want to force the contents on my stomach into the bowl of a toilet. Why can't I just be normal? Why can't I let myself be happy? Why-

My thoughts were interrupted by his luxurious voice again.

'Sounds fun,' he smiled 'if you're back tomorrow could you show me the ropes?'

His eyes twinkled in the morning light, deep dark pools filled with love and hatred all at once floating in a sea of pure white. he was beautiful to say the least.

'Dan Howell?' the receptionist called signalling the end of our discussion.

'Catch you later, Phil,' he said cheerfully, smiling after he had said my name. I hadn't felt this happy in a long while but no... he would never like me... soon enough everyone ends up keeping their distance from me and this would be no exception, all I could do was hope.