[ you and I have danced around the issue
and you'd think by now I wouldn't really miss you ]
It was quiet. Too quiet. Ever since they'd got back from the hospital Philip had been on his tiptoes, scared for Lindsay to finally erupt and to finally say something. Anything. He'd been mad- but wasn't that understandable? Danny and Ty were dead, thanks to Philip, over some stupid argument and the petty grudge existing between them.
It wasn't even his real anger; Philip knew damn well what that was like. He enjoyed it. It was emptiness, avoiding eye contact and shutting him out in more ways than one. He'll get over it, he'd said, and he may or may not kill Philip as part of that.
As if he ever would. He loves him too much for that.
Philip left first. It was his choice; Lindsay never kicked him out. He also never expected him to stay once he'd mentioned Ellie, how he'd slept with her on the day of her dead husband's funeral. They'd both totally betrayed each other in their different ways but Philip was still the one to leave.
And Lindsay never expected to miss him so much. All he wanted while was Philip was there was for him to go- and then he did, and what was Lindsay supposed to do then? It's quieter now that Lindsay's the only one there, with no one to break the silence with random fits of laughter or random music playing or random door slams when they're pissed off at the world. (Or Lindsay.)
He tells Ellie, drunk, "I'm glad he's gone" but that's not true and Ellie knows it. He drinks constantly, rubbing the dotting needle scars on his arms and wishing Philip was still there with him.
[ I'm the one, we both know
that if I were to leave now you'd lose control
I'm not the one who needs you ]
Philip left. He'd always expected Lindsay to walk out on him, not the other way around, because that's what everyone's done in his life so far. Right? It was nice to have that power. To leave Lindsay behind and say you know what, I'm done, we're done, and just go, knowing that Lindsay couldn't do anything to stop him.
It's hard not thinking about Lindsay. He misses him, all the time, and it's a pretty consistent thought process of what could I have done differently, maybe I should've stayed, we could have worked it out.
But it's too late now, even if it's not too late for regret. Philip can't go back- he made the promise (mostly to himself) that Lindsay could call him first and he wouldn't be the first to back down. But Lindsay hadn't called, he's probably still fucking Ellie. He's moved on.
Philip doesn't even believe that though, not really. He knows Lindsay loved (loves?) him, even if he'd never tell him and had that pretence of distantness where he could. So he doesn't believe that Lindsay's moved on from him just yet, if at all. It was fucked up, their relationship, and Philip never needed hindsight to realise that. He'd have done anything for Lindsay (he probably still would), because that's what love is. Perhaps it was dysfunctional with a semi-problematic dynamic, but he never minded that.
But there was only so much he was ever going to take.
[ if I could ever stop you in your tracks and ask you why you're here
I would find it easier to justify making you disappear ]At the start, there was that ritual of are you still here? Haven't you left yet? that played between the two of them. Lindsay always initiated it, of course, and Philip would respond with come off it, you obviously want me here.
It was after they'd left Danny and Ty, to go to Lindsay's house by the sea and fall in love. It was love at first sight on Philip's part (or something like that), but Lindsay himself had never expected to fall for him so quickly either.
Philip Valentine was like a hurricane. It's a cliché, someone enters your life so suddenly and messes everything all up for you and you're left questioning everything up until that moment. Without the robberies and the thrill of it, Lindsay Brown's life would have been oh-so monotonous and boring, of just one business day after the other. It's why he did it. Jail would have been more exciting than such repetitiveness.
And then Philip shows up and it's more exciting than anything he's ever known. He's a whirlwind and a storm, disrupting any normalcy in his life with that ever-present smirk like he knows exactly what he's doing.
Lindsay's never been sure if he minds or not.
It's refreshing, of course it is, but sometimes Lindsay just wants him to disappear and give him a moment to catch his breath and figure out what's supposed to be going on in his life. Philip is his life now and it's- confusing, to say the least.
Sometimes Philip just needs to slow down.
[ it hasn't stopped being the same
since you told me your name ]
He'd laughed like mad when Lindsay had said that was his name. It's a girls' name, or like, the kind you'd give to a posh brat who probably attended Eton or some other exclusive private school. Somehow it suits him, though. After thirty four years he seemed to have grown into it, and Philip rather likes it on him.
Looking back on it, it's perhaps their first "milestone". The first time Lindsay ever showed him some trust, to tell his hostage and random material his real name, even with the knowledge he could sell him out to the police at any time. He'd said later on that he trusted Philip, and he still remembers the warm glow that filled his chest before he even knew why. It's nice to be trusted by the person who'd held a gun to his head and threatened to shoot him. (And a couple of weeks later held the gun in his mouth while he came).
Normal people aren't called Pip Valentine, Lindsay had told him. It was an odd time to bring it up, Philip had thought, while they were in that car by the cliff edge kissing like teenagers. That was another milestone for them, definitely a more obvious one. The first time they kissed and got each other off, with the ransom money still littering the seats behind them.
Names have always been important for them.