Ephemeral

Adore

Oh I was thinking about killing myself, don't you mind?
I love you, don't you mind, don't you mind?

- Me // The 1975

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Usually, when Dan's alarm went off in the morning, he'd stumble out of bed, filled with annoyance at having been woken up, blindly smack at his alarm clock with arms still half asleep, and stumble back into bed, all the while keeping his eyes firmly closed against the growing light in his bedroom. Today was different, on that particular Monday morning, after a weekend of hospital checkups and "look up, look down, give a deep cough"s, he was more tired than he'd ever felt in his life.

The hospital were pushing for him to leave school behind, but he couldn't, because to leave school would be to leave normality - and Dan feared that once that happened, he'd definitely be ill. He didn't want to be ill. So on that morning, that dreary February Monday morning, he lay in bed for a moment longer. He opened his eyes to stare at his ceiling, refusing to glance at the flashing red numbers across the room as the sounds of Death Cab for Cutie echoed around his head, each riff seemed to come from underwater, each lyric seemed to fade in an out as the words were sang, and each drum beat seemed slower, more out of pace than the rest of the song.

And then the song changed, and an unstoppable grin quickly spread its way across Dan's face. His chapped lips screaming in protest, but his heart hammering with excitement. Dan threw the covers away, the cold air in his room making no difference to his already cold body - he was always cold. Always.

And for two minutes and thirty four seconds, Dan lost his mind. He danced, he span, his feet making no noise against the carpet in his room. He dressed while he danced, choosing to forgo his normal all-black attire for a dull green jumper. Dan didn't hear his mother over the loud music, but he knew as soon as she burst into his room, eyes wide and straight to his bed. So he danced his way towards her, grinning at her relieved smile and took her hands, and then they were dancing together. Spinning each other and giggling to Nine in the Afternoon by Panic! At the Disco.

It was perfect, harmonious. Dan felt normal for the first time in a while as he danced with his mother, not caring that he was already out of breath and that his doctor would probably scream at him for doing strenuous exercise so soon after being ill. He laughed, feeling free of his illness for the first time in a long time.

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Dan didn't go to school that Monday. Neither did his brother, and after a long phone call, his mother was able to stay home from work. So, the Howell's spent the day together; baking delicious cupcakes and eating them while watching re-runs of a show none of them liked. They played board games until they couldn't stand it anymore and listened to the rain hit the windows outside, glad they didn't have to be caught in it.

At 3:30pm on the dot, Chris and Pj turned up at Dan's door - drenched, holding hands, and faces pale with worry - that is, until Dan grinned and pulled the two stunned boys through the door, laughing about how they looked like they'd seen a ghost.

"Kinda glad we didn't have to." Chris joked half-heartedly - and Dan laughed so hard he fell to the floor.

"If I were I ghost I wouldn't waste my time haunting your pathetic arses!"

"Hey!" Chris yelped. "I've been told that my arse is 'perfectly plump' thank you very much."

"Oh yeah?" Dan sniggered, wiping a year from the corner of his eye. "And who told you that?"

"Pj."

"Chris!-"

"Ew gross!"

"-I did not say that!" Pj objected.