Powder [phan]

XIV

Phil's POV

A few days later I had a conversation with Daniel about slowly going home. He still didn't seem sure, but agreed, but you could tell that he wasn't comfortable with it.

"If you weren't so fucking lame, you could be already done." I commented irritably, watching Dan sluggishly take each piece out of the closet and put it in his suitcase. You could literally notice his displeasure, which made him behave like a little child.

I shouldn't have been resentful or strict, but I was tired. Maybe I also hoped that everything would feel more normal when we got home.

"Stop talking to me like a fucking parent and help me." Dan replied, who had just tried in vain to fold a t-shirt sensibly and then ended up throwing it into the suitcase with an annoyed snort. He looked at me, waiting, and probably didn't intend to continue until I got up from the sofa to do his work.

"Nope, forget it. You resisted it so much and declared me crazy that I wanted to pack my bags the day before we leave. I'm not your fool."

"Why are you so fucking annoying right now, Phil? I listened to you and do it now as you can see."

"I'm just-" I started to justify myself, but then it occurred to me that my defense could turn this harmless discussion into a real argument.

My eyes wandered over his body, down to his hands, and focused on whether I could feel the slightest tremor, but I didn't see anything of the sort. Nothing had changed in that matter since I've been here, and the fact that I couldn't talk to him about it without him completely blocking me was starting to drive me crazy.

I wanted to believe him. I wanted everything to be perfect between us and we could just love each other, finally enjoy the happiness we had been denied for so long. And maybe we could too, and I just imagined that he should have had physical complaints for a long time.

But it didn't leave me alone and I just felt that he was hiding something from me. That no matter how close we were and how well we knew each other, there was still an entire world in him that he was hiding from me.

"Hey, what's the matter?" I heard Dan's loving voice and suddenly realized that he was now standing in front of me and reaching for my cheek to wipe away the occasional tear that had crept up on it.

I looked up and saw the warm brown of his eyes, which only showed me again that he loved me as much as I loved him, but also confirmed the impression that there was so much more hidden behind them.

"I can't believe you don't take drugs anymore." I just said it in a weak voice and he immediately removed his hand from my cheek and backed away.

"God, Phil. How many more times?" He rubbed his hair under stress as he went back to the closet to take out the last of the clothes. "I really don't feel like talking about it anymore." he mumbled, but I knew I couldn't give up so quickly this time.

"Yes, you never feel like talking about this!" I protested and stood up. "But we have to if you want it to work between us at some point."

Dan stopped trying to pack something properly and stared at me in horror.

"What does that mean? I think it works very well."

"I can't pretend that it isn't very strange that you have absolutely no withdrawal symptoms at all, even though you already had it when it wasn't even that bad."

"It is probably just different and not the same for everyone every time. Just believe me and don't always worry so much, Phil!" He scolded.

"But I can't just believe an addict! I have to consider the possibility that you never really intended to stop and-"