Pacing: Oneshot // Phan

It was snowing.

It was mid-December and Dan was curled up on a sofa meant for two, swaddled in a fluffy blanket and watching the snow drift by outside.

The heating was on in the flat, the potted plants that usually sat on the balcony had been brought inside, and the duvet that belonged on his and Phil's bed was casually thrown over the back of the couch.