Hi, yes sorry I've been away but I finally got some time off from exams (for like a day) and so I really wanted to write this, here you go;
Dan's POV
My head whirls as the darkness threatens to take me. I can feel its bony fingers at my throat as its darknening cloak wafts around my ankles. I stumble around. In my mind I know there is music playing, I can feel the pounding through the soles of my shoes and yet my ears fail to pick it up. All around me are shapes, sometimes moving, sometimes flashing and always lingering. I can make out things sometimes, the edge of a shoe or a single strand of hair. But, the majority of the time they are lost to the blackness. I am a ghost, wandering an abandoned city, all alone, forever alone. I feel tears crawl up my throat, this is the pinnacle of my drunkenness, the peak of the night, the peak of every night for the last three years. The point where I curl up in the corner and cry- welcome to my life.
Then I see it, it strikes me like a lightning bolt to the heart, a single light. It flashes through the darkness, somehow managing to penetrate straight to my eyes without illuminating any of the shadow figures. I rise, like a moth being led to a flame, stumbling across bits of broken glass, falling into the sweaty bodies. But before I can reach my destiny, my foot hits something hard and I fall on to the soft material. The bass pounds as the final light fades.
I wake up to a different kind of light, the kind that naturally floods the world. The shapes are back and my vision is blurry. All I can see are fragments of things, like I am looking through a kaleidoscope and the world is spinning all at once. And that is before the headache starts. My brain starts to scream and I am tempted to put my hands against my temple, like the scream by Edvard Munch, but I feel like my hands would set alight. I screw my eyes shut and wait for it to subsidize. Three years later and the pain still hurts every bit as much as the first time.
When I do finally open my eyes, I see a figure looming over me, his hair falling down, casting shadows across his face. I slam my eyes shut again. The shadows are back. The shadows are only supposed to come at night, I think. I feel a hand rocking my shoulder as the sofa sags slightly, accepting the weight of another human being. I slowly unclench my eyes, every hair on my body alight as I prepare myself mentally to see the face of the shadow people.
But it is not a shadow person, of course it's not, the shadow people don't really exist. Instead it is a boy. A boy maybe the same age as me, maybe a few years either way. His skin is white and smooth, his nose sculpted down into the curve of his mouth and I can see deep grey smudges lingering beneath his eyes, the skin drooping slightly in a protesting kind of way. But his eyes, it is his eyes that I notice, his eyes that hold my attention. They sparkle like gem stones, like tiny starts among the grey smog of the morning after, a blue so deep it makes you believe that paradise really exists.
A floatation of "Umm Hi, I'm err Phil by the way." comes from the boy's mouth, the stumbling notes an interruption to the melodious music.
"Yeah. Hi. I'm Dan." I manage to splutter out. "Err, why are you here?" I say, my tone a little more brash than I had intended. Phil laughs and the melody is back.
"This is my couch." he says, pointing down to the material I was currently lay atop of. I blush slightly.
"I'm sorry. I had no idea where I was."
"I'm not surprised. Are you okay?"
"Yeah I think so." I say as I try to sit up, the room swirling faster now, like looking at the outside world from a spinning top. The blood rushes to my head as I hold onto the armrest for safety.
"I don't think you are." mutters Phil as he bites his lip. "I'll get you a blanket."
Phil's POV
The door opens with a bang and in strolls my brother, a backpack strung over his shoulder and a tie fixed around his neck. I jump away slightly from where I had been sat, leant against the sofa, staring with a growing curiosity and need at the boy who lies asleep. I hadn't meant to- I was trying to clear the endless glass and rubbish off of the floors. But my legs had begun to ache, and my eyes had grown weary as the second round of a splitting headache had bounded in. Michael's mouth drops open.
"Phil! Have you seen the state of this place?"
"Umm sorry I was trying to clean it up."
"No you weren't you were just sat there on the floor."
"I was tired!"
"I let you hold this party on condition you had cleaned it all up before mum got home!"
"It will be!"
"She'll be home in ten minutes!" I glance up at the clock, had it really been that long? Sure enough, the steady ticking hand of the clock was nearing to eleven. My heart raced.
"Shit! Will you help me?"
"I guess I'll have to now won't I?" says Michael with an exasperated sigh. He walks over to the sofa, picking up a black rubbish bag from where it lay, carelessly strewn across the floor. He glances down at Dan.
"Who the fuck is this?" he says, his voice rising.
"I don't know, I woke up and he was there. He said his name was Dan."
"Phil?"
"Yes."
"I'm not buying that. People were drunk, they weren't drunk enough to pass out."
"Well evidently he did."
"Phil?"
"What?!"
"Tell me the truth."
"I am." I say, looking up at the I-think-I-know-best look written all over his face. "I didn't fuck him okay?"
"Are you sure?"
"No, Michael you know what? I think I know what happened. I had a party, drunk one beer, fucked a guy I don't know and then forgot about it. Then a flying pink unicorn showed up and rampaged round the living room but it's okay because Chris fought her off with his superhuman strength."
"It's plausible."
"Did mummy and daddy never tell you Michael? Unicorns don't exist."
"I meant the first part. You need to be careful."
"Why do you never believe me?" I yell, thrusting my arms down by my side out of frustration.
"Because you tell lies all of the time. No, what, I've never been drunk, No that wasn't me climbing through the window, the vase? That was the dog." Michaels voice got louder and louder until I could feel his breath against my face. And that is when Dan began to stir.
Dan's POV
I wake up to the sound of booming. Is it another party? Have I slept another day away and awoken once again into the never ending horror of night time? The face of the boy appears in front of me once more, the one with the eyes full of oceans. What was his name again? I dig through my mind like a pirate for treasure but I fail my quest. My mind is like a sieve, especially when I am high or recovering from a high; which is always. I feel the sleep tickling my tear ducts and I attempt to wipe my tiredness away in one fell swoop.
"Are you okay?" I hear a voice whisper through the blurriness and there they are again, those eyes, like lights at the end of the tunnel. I nod and sit up, this time there is no vomit threatening to scuttle up my throat. Above me a shadow lingers as a voice coughs. I turn, still of a nervous disposition from the events of last night, to see a boy. Well, more like a man. This man shares the same black hair as the boy except where the boys was rough around the edges, free to move, the man's lies combed back, shiny from the sheer amount of grease it has been shoved into. I recognise a few key features from the boys face in the man. They share the same angular nose, although his mouth is harsher, a thinner line and his eyes are a dull brown, closer to mine than the deep oceans of the boy's. His face is formed into a disapproving frown and I instantly shy away, my fragile arms shaking slightly.
"Umm sorry I'll umm go now." I say, pushing the blanket off of my legs and standing up, wobbling a little.
"Yes you will. Phil wasn't supposed to let people stay." he says, shooting a glare towards the boy- who's the name evidently was Phil.
"You can't make him go! Look at how shaky he is, he's not fit to go anywhere!"
"He bloody well can't stay here! How are you going to explain a hung-over strange boy lying on our sofa?" Phil simply sighs.
"It's okay, It's okay I'm going." I say, not wanting to get in the middle of the feud, the cold stares in their eyes practically shooting sparks across the vacuum of air that lies between them.
"He's not leaving. He's in no state." says Phil, his voice sounding final. "Dan, you go hide in my room, make sure you lock the door behind you and Michael you go and distract mum and dad whilst I attempt to clear up."
"Why should I?"
"Because you'll be in just as much trouble as me. Now, go." Michael shakes his head, dumps his backpack onto the lino floor and mutters a curse of expletives under his breath, before opening the door and leaving. I hear the sound of his footsteps bounding down the carpeted staircase and out into the open.
"Thank you." I say, attempting a weak smile which Phil returns, just the slight curve of his lips lighting up his face in the most obvious way,
"No problem." he returns.
I walk along the hallway, a little shaky but certainly a lot steadier than before. Using the wall to guide me, I make it to the end of the corridor. In front of me are three white doors, all identical. Somehow I feel as if I fell into some kind of cringey maths puzzle. I open the first one as I hear a key in the lock. The room facing me is ordered, white walls and a sturdy bed with a blue quilt. No possessions lie scattered around, and no knickknacks line the drawers. The curtains are missing and without them the room looks bare, just a pole and some hooks protecting the room from the coldness of the glass. I decide this is probably Phil's brothers vacant room. I bet he already moved out. I close the door quietly behind me and have no choice but to leap into the next room across as I hear the scraping of the living room door on the carpet and the chattering voices of older people. I listen intently but hear no shrillness or shouting. Phil must have miraculously turned the lounge from the classic drinking area to something that looked closer to a kind of home.
I remove my head from where it was pressed against the door and slowly turn around, taking in Phil's room. It is an explosion of personality, from the posters that line the walls to objects that guard the top of his chest of drawers. I take it all in, already feeling like I know him better. His room is crowded, giving it a sensation of being small but I feel like it wouldn't be if you removed all of the stuff. In one corner, stands an oak wardrobe, brightly coloured t-shirts hanging from it's swinging doors and non-matching socks peeking from the drawers below. Directly to the left stands a wooden chest of drawers, a slightly lighter shade of wood than the wardrobe making it feel patchy and home made. The aforementioned objects that line the drawers add flashes of colour, acting as a feast for the eyes. I struggle to take it all in, to admire every object without it being an overload. Just from taking a quick glance, I pick out the body of a small lion toy and some colourful plastic figurines. The only thing that stands between the chest of drawers and the unmade made bed is a DVD rack. I don't think I've ever seen quite so many DVD's in my life before- my mind races to read all of the titles; inception, buffy the vampire slayer, friends, the list is endless and it is bringing back my blurriness trying to read them all. I collapse onto the bed, sinking into the checkered green and blue duvet. My head falls into the pillow and my eyes are dragged up to the ceiling, which like the walls that surround me is covered in posters and drawings and pictures, giving the effect that I have climbed inside of Phil's mind itself. Chaos- that's what Phil's room is, organised, passionate chaos.
Phil's POV
I chatter away to my parents, asking all about their weekend away, excitedly animating my face in an attempt to keep their eyes and thoughts away from any possible trouble that could have gone on here. Michael appears to have kicked most of the remaining bottles under the counter top whilst he was making coffee and, quickly glancing round, I see no more. My parents chatter on and on about golden sands and deep oceans before settling on reeling off anecdote after anecdote. Constantly wary that I have left a stranger alone in my room- I keep one eye fixed on the ever-ticking clock.
"Umm I'm sorry, but as wonderful as that sounds, I have homework." I say and my mother looks at me, her eyes laced with understanding.
"Do you need any help?" she asks as she sips her tea.
"No. I should be fine."
"Call me if you do!" she calls after me as I stride down the hall and into my bedroom.
I walk in to see Dan lying face up on the bed, his hair swept delicately across one eye and his mouth open slightly as his legs sprawl across the covers. He doesn't hear me enter. I slowly close the door and stand there for a while, just watching his eyes run excitedly over the posters that hang to the ceiling, a growing express of glee in his youthful eyes. I take a step forward and he jolts, sitting up. I see his skin crinkle as he winces in pain.
"Sorry, I didn't know how long you'd be." he says as he awkwardly swings his legs back off of the bed, leaving them dangling just above the carpet.
"No, no it's fine." I say joining him on the bed.
With my thigh almost touching his, I nervously brush my fringe to one side. The room is silent and Dan turns to stare out at the particulary fascinating tree that lies just beyond the window. The air has never felt so heavy. Whilst Dan's head is turned, my eyes wander over his face. It really is beautiful. Even having just woke up, and even though the slight print of the sofa is still etched into his face, he manages to look like a walking piece of art. He moves his head to look at his feet and catches me staring. His eyes divert their path and turn to look at me.
"You look tired." I say, ignoring the fact that he just caught me staring at him.
"I am." he says.
"You can go to sleep if you want."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah sure." I say and before I can say another word he is unravelling the laces of his shoes, freeing his feet from the confines of his shoes. He looks at me quickly for confirmation, the light slowly fading in his eyes and I nod. He shuffles along the bed, lying down with his hands folded under his head. He then tucks his knees into his chest, his toes curling in towards his heels. Adorably, I notice that he has a hole in the toe of his left sock and I can see his golden brown skin leaking through. In an attempt not to stare, I rise, grabbing a blanket from where it hangs on the back of my office chair and drape it over him. He moves his hand to tuck it closer to his shoulder and goes back to sleep, the knitted blanket like a layer protecting him from all harm.
Dan's POV
I wake up in a cloud of grogginess and for just a moment my mind panics, the green sea of duvet a foreign land. Then I remember. I can hear the slight tinkling of electronic noise and I roll over to see Phil, a laptop precariously balanced on his knees as he sits in an upright foetal position, the light from the screen illuminating his face and capturing his perfect smile. I sit and watch him, using the excuse of fatigue to convince myself that it isn't creepy. I've only just met the guy. I wonder what he is watching and then I hear the familiar tones of Paperlillies, one of my favourite you tubers. I try to contain my excitement. I hardly know anyone who watches YouTube. I stir slightly, pretending to have just woken up and the beautiful oceans eyes find me, engulfing me into their warm waters. Phil smiles.
"Wakey wakey sleepy head." he whispers, the small smile shining through in his tone.
"How long was I asleep?" I ask as I see him consciously close the lid of his laptop.
"Five, maybe six hours?" he says and laughs upon seeing my eyes widen.
"Wow."
"You didn't have anywhere to be did you?"
"No, It's fine."
"I didn't know whether to wake you up and to be honest you looked too cute all tucked up asleep." he blushes a little and I can sense that he regrets that last part.
"We're you watching me sleep? Pervert." I say, laughing.
"No, no I just got intrigued when you started sucking your thumb."
"I do not suck my thumb!" I say, indignantly.
"ssh ssh." Phil says quickly looking behind him as if he could see through his bedroom wall into the corridor. "My parents don't know you're here."
"Oops sorry. So what are you watching?" the red rises back up to his cheeks.
"Err nothing, just you know." I scoot over quickly, catching him off guard and yank open the laptop lid,
"I knew you were watching Bryony!"
"You know her?" he says, shock filling his face.
"Yes she's on of my favourite youtubers."
"Wow, that's so cool. Who else do you like?"
"Umm, Charlie, Shane, Community Channel, Charlie the Unicorn." I list the names off, looking down at the bed as I do so, afraid of judgement.
"No way, I love Charlie the Unicorn!" I smile and proceed to ask him excitedly about it.
Phil's POV
Me and Dan talk all afternoon, only noticing the time when the yellow strands that fall through the window slowly turn into the hands of darkness. Dan follows my gaze, staring through the glass into the outside wall,
"Ah shit." he exclaims upon seeing the dimming sunlight. "I really have to go."
"Okay." I say, shifting myself off of the bed and plodding towards the door. But no footsteps follow me. I turn around to see Dan, perched on the edge of the window sill, his palms pressed against the wood.
"It was nice talking to you and thanks for the stay, see you around." he says as he turns round one last time, waving his hand once, before climbing out of the window and down to the ground. And with his presence absent, my mind turns to wondering; will I ever see him again?
Okay so I need your help. I am unsure about whether to leave this is a oneshot or continue it into a chapter fic. I have some ideas planned for a chapter fic but I am unsure whether it would be best left as just a oneshot? Please tell me what you think, thank you for reading and it would be really great if you reviewed.
