Flashbulb Eyes (phanfic)

One

Dan Howell

I sat cross legged on my bed, the sound of muse making the day seem better than I knew it would be. I clamped my hair straighteners together and and sung along to Citizen Erased in the highest pitched voice I could muster, pretending the hair straighteners were my microphone.

“DAN, ITS 8 30 AM SHUT THE FUCK UP.’  I heard my sister scream from the room next door.

Laughing, I got up off of my bed and put my books into my backpack for college and picked a pair of jeans from the pile of black clothes mounted on my bedroom floor. I really should clean that. I squirmed into my jeans and grabbed a thick black sweatshirt. Checking myself again in the mirror I grabbed my phone and thudded down the stairs, knowing I was already going to be late to psychology. I yelled goodbye loudly to my parents, slightly to piss of my sister, I put on my headphones and stepped into the freezing cold air, typical British weather. My breath made small clouds in the air every time i sung along to a song on my iPod quietly, everybody at college knew I was mildly strange, but anyone who walked past me now would think I was a total twat. I walked down the roads of Manchester, bypassing 14 year olds smoking wearing adidas tracksuits and middle aged men angrily speaking on the phone. God, could it get much colder. I regretted not wearing a beanie. By the time I arrived at college my lesson had already started. Shit. This would be my third late this week. I power walked through the halls and reached the psychology department, catching my breath before entering the classroom.

‘Nice of you to finally join us Daniel’ Mr. Brown said sarcastically, drawing the whole classes attention to me.

I panned my eyes over the classroom and noticed somebody was in my seat, and instantly furrowed my eyebrow.

‘We’ve got a new student, you’ll have to sit next to Mr. Lester for now Daniel.’ Mr Brown instructed.

‘Its Dan’ I huffed.

I’d never talked to Phil Lester before, but fuck, he was hot. He usually sat in the corner of the class byhimself, nobody wanted to sit next to him and be rejected. Phils hair was raven black, which the whole school suspects is dyed. He’s one of those guys who everyone talks about on monday morning, having been seen at all of the parties hooking up with guys, girls and drinking copious amounts of alcohol. As I sat down next to him I tried to play it cool and do the ‘smile and nod’  and looking back to the board. 

‘Now, getting back to Milgrams study..’ 

I copied down the notes, aware of Phils presence next to me for the whole of the class. Towards the end of class, while Phil looked engrossed in his work, I looked over at his hands gliding along the paper. How was he so pale? His hands were almost the colour of the paper itself. While looking over at his work I saw he was actually drawing, while flickering his eyes up towards the board making it seem as if he copied down the notes. He saw me looking and smirked, putting his finger up to his lips. 

‘What are you listening to?’ He said in a hushed tone.

‘Muse’ I said back, trying to keep the excitement from my voice.

He held his hand out, gesturing for me to give him one of my headphones. We spent the rest of the class listening to Muse together, not talking, me copying down the notes and Phil drawing. 

‘Your homework for tomorrow is to revise. Class dismissed’ Mr Browns voice belted across the class.

I started to pack up my things as the class slowly dispersed, and Phil gave me back my headphone. 

‘Sit by me more often’ Phil said, winking at me as he left the room. 

I sat there for a minute, absorbing the fact that: 

1. I’d just spent 60 minutes listening to music and sitting next to Phil Lester

2. He seemed to actually enjoy my company

3. He’d left a piece of paper on my desk, with his number.