A/N this is based off of a Phillip Phillips song "Face" its pretty cool (btw at the end I'll tell you if I feel like making a part two of this xx) and no YouTube in this one
"Dan, why can't you just tell me what's wrong? Just let me in for once. I'm not blind, I can tell something is wrong." Phil burst out to Dan, who was sitting as far away from him as possible on the couch whilst picking at his food.
Dan didn't say anything, just stared blankly at his food and continued to pick it apart with his fingers absent-mindedly.
Phil felt frustration rising up in his chest, but he pushed it down. He needed to ignore his anger and focus on Dan when the younger boy obviously needed it.
"You can tell me anything, and just take it out of your head and take it out of your thoughts." Phil told him, even though it was the most cliche and cheesy thing to say at the moment. It probably even made Dan feel a little worse.
"It helps to tell people your feelings sometimes." He continued softly when Dan said nothing. "If you ever decide to do it, you'll realize that you're missing out on a huge relief. It'll feel like a huge weight being taken off of your shoulders."
Dan seemed to react to this, shifting his weight slightly on the couch, his face betraying that the conversation was getting to him just a little bit.
"This has been going on for a couole weeks at least. I've been lonely without you, love— Dan, no." Phil pleaded.
Dan stood up, leaving his food uneaten on the edge of the coffee table, and began to head out of the room towards his bedroom.
"Dan!" Phil stood up as fast as he could and grabbed Dan's sleeve as he passed. Dan looked at him with huge, dark eyes.
"Phil, let go." He said, and it was a relief for Phil to hear him speak after a while of not hearing his sweet Winnie the Pooh voice.
"Bear—" Phil began, his voice just a whisper, and Dan's facial expression morphed into one of anger before he ripped his arm away and stomped off to his room. The sound of a door slamming marked his exit.
Phil just stood there for a while, his arm still halfway stretched out as if he was still reaching out for Dan, even though the younger boy was gone.
Then he lowered his arm and spoke in a quiet voice, as if the boy was still in the room.
"I'll get it out of you one day, out of your head and thoughts." He whispered, his voice sounding broken. "If you tell me, I'll give you a reason to stay... or not."
And at that, Phil Lester began to wonder: what the hell had he done wrong?
On the other side of the flat, Dan sat on the floor in front of his bed, leaning back against it. He hadn't even made it to the edge of the bed before collapsing and burying his face in his hands.
Phil had noticed, of course. Phil noticed everything. He had noticed Dan had been acting off for a few weeks, of course he had.
The truth is, Dan didn't even know himself why he was acting this way. Sometimes he just seemed to die inside, along with his emotions. And not in a funny way either: he just seemed to grow numb, and the only emotions he could feel were sadness and pain. He felt bad for shutting down like this, just seeming to become a useless excuse for a human being that can't do anything right. He can't even make his own best friend happy.
But this hadn't happened since he had met Phil. Phillip Michael Lester made him happy, and he had no reason to be acting like this. He loved the man, for fuck's sake.
He wanted to go and apologize to him: hug him and cry and kiss him, the whole show. But a crippling cloud of self doubt floated upon him.
He would screw up and Phil wouldn't want him anymore. Who was he kidding, Phil was probably out there right this second gathering the courage to come in and tell him to get out of the flat.
Dan decided to make the job easy for him and leave the flat by himself. Finding the will from somewhere deep inside of him, he pushed himself up from the floor and searched the room for a decent jacket before giving up. It wasn't that cold outside, he would manage just fine.
With that, he crept to his door and cracked it open, peeking through the small gap. His heart ached at the thought of a joke that Phil would probably make about him looking like he was going to sneak out.
Which was exactly what he was going to do, but still.
He snuck out of his door, not closing it just in case it would make too loud of a noise and alert Phil (wherever the hell he was). But, as he was halfway to the front door, he was stopped by a small voice from behind him.
"Where are you going?" He whipped around to see Phil standing in the hallway he had just left, wearing different clothes than he had been wearing before. (He now wore a black baggy T-shirt and some grey sweat pants.)
"Honestly, Phil, what does it look like?" Dan snapped at the ebony-haired man. "I'm going to go outside. Is it that big of a deal?" He immediately felt bad as a hurt look appeared on his face.
Phil didn't say anything to the harsh words, just nodded and mumbled something he barely caught.
He had said, "Stay safe, bear." He had a concerned look on his face.
Dan rolled his eyes, trying to cover up the hurt he felt at the nickname. Without any words, he turned back to the door, opened it and was gone.
And all Phil could do was watch as his boyfriend disappeared into the dark, cold night.
Dan regretted leaving as soon as he felt the cold. He had known that it was cold—it was the middle of Winter, for fuck's sake—but he hadn't expected this.
If he had been thinking rationally, he would've turned right back around and go back inside to the warmth of the flat, to the warmth of Phil. Dan would hug him and kiss him, and apologize for the last two weeks of silence.
But he wasn't thinking rationally, and he continued to plow on forward into the wind and the cold.
Meanwhile, back in the warm flat, Phil was still standing completely motionless at the end of the hallway. He was hurt by Dan's exit.
If he had been thinking rationally, he would've told Dan to come back inside the flat, and he would've made him warm from excessive cuddles and he'd kiss every inch of his body that he could reach. Then he would make sure that the younger boy was okay by gently asking him if he would tell him what was wrong.
But he wasn't thinking rationally, so he just turned back around and headed to Dan's room, hopefully to fall asleep on the bed that smelled like his gone boyfriend.
Dan was still outside, still freezing, still walking anywhere except to the flat. The cold had already seeped into his skin and he was already completely numb by the time it had started to snow. And by that time, he was so cold, his hands were burning and the sensation was spreading rapidly up into his arms.
Phil was entering Dan's room and he closed the door behind him, suddenly realizing how much he had missed the brown-haired boy with the same brown eyes. Nothing seemed out of place, except for the most obvious difference in the room. There was a journal, battered up and half open on the floor.
Dan knew he should go back to the flat, he knew he really should. But he felt like an idiot for the way he had stormed out and he couldn't face Phil's judging face. But he was so cold and he couldn't feel his face and he didn't even know how he was walking because he was so numb. He didn't even notice as his body took over, turned him around, and then he was heading back to the flat.
It had to of been about half an hour that had passed as Phil read the journal. The journal contained such personal stuff, and he should've stopped reading, but he couldn't stop himself. So he continued to get lost in the world of reading as he saw just how heartbroken and sad Dan really was.
Dan didn't even care anymore as he saw the flat coming into view. He wanted to run back inside to the warmth of the flat, but he couldn't force his weak, numb legs to move fast enough, so he continued to slowly stumble towards the flat.
Phil didn't even notice that there were tears falling down his face as he was almost to the end of the writing in the journal. Just a couple more pages...
Dan had reached the front door of the flat and didn't even bother to knock as he opened the door and closed it quite loudly.
Phil was too immersed in his reading to hear the sound of Dan's arrival.
Dan didn't see Phil anywhere around, but it was pretty late and that was expected, so he decided to head to his room.
Phil was on the second to last page and the he flipped the page, and he was just beginning to read the first sentence on the last sheet of paper...
Dan opened the door to his room.
Phil froze.
"Phil! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Dan stood at the door, his voice sounding a little weak as he yelled. He didn't even care about the tear tracks on Phil's face, all he saw was the black journal in Phil's hands.
"I-I'm sorry, Dan." Phil mumbled, and even though his grip was tight on the journal, it still fell from his hands on to the floor. "I just saw it on the floor and I—I thought it would be harmless if I looked in it. I didn't—"
Dan, with still numb legs, managed to leap forward and grab the journal from the ground. It was still open to the page Phil had left off on.
He had almost read the whole fucking journal.
"Get out." Dan said in a harsh voice as he brushed off the journal.
"Bear—" Phil began.
"Out!" Dan said in a louder voice, but Phil still didn't move.
Dan couldn't ask him to move any longer, and he couldn't take the look of pity on Phil's face. So he did what was best.
He took his journal with him, still brushing it off, and walked out that door.
Phil didn't even try to stop Dan, not being able to form any words. So watch was all Phil did while Dan gathered up a thick jacket, slipped it on and walked out the front door. This time for good.
But this time, Phil realized something, long after Dan had already left.
He needed to help Dan, and he realized what he needed. He needed Phil, and Phil would be there for him.
And this time, Dan would give him what he wanted. Because Phil was not going to give up. He wanted a taste of what they used to have two weeks ago. And he would get that taste by finding Dan and giving him a greatly needed hug.
So Phil ran to find his own thick jacket, slipped it on, and ran out that door.
Dan, on the other side of the town, was more prepared for the cold this time. The thick jacket he had brought made a significant difference than when he had gone out without a jacket, and he was greatful for the warmth it brought him.
He still had the journal clutched to his chest, never wanting to let go.
The truth is, he had wanted to tell someone about everything he had written in the journal. He was just waiting for the right time to tell someone, but Phil had decided to just snoop around in his room and find it himself.
Not that he minded Phi knowing: he had planned to tell him one day. But not this way.
And he wouldn't be able to take Phil's pity eyes and his concerned face if he ever saw him again. So that's why he was going away from him.
Suddenly Dan heard the footsteps of someone running behind him. He, being in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night, of course got absolutely terrified, and dove into a conveniently placed alley.
A person ran by about thirty seconds later, and through his wide eyes and thumping heart, Dan was able to tell that it was indeed Phil.
And he felt bad, not only that Phil was out here running around looking for him, but also because he was hiding from him.
Then, he realized, that he was holding the journal against him tightly, and he remembered why he had to do this.
And with that he set off again.
The further he went, the closer Phil seemed, and Dan began to get annoyed. Why wont he leave him alone, why won't he leave him be?
Phil had seen into the deepest recesses of his heart. He had seen his heartbreak, his secrets, his scars, his dark... He had seen everything. So Dan had picked up his heart, brushed it off, and walked through that fucking door. All to get away from Phil.
So why won't Phil leave him alone?
And when Dan finally reached his destination, he found himself thinking about something he knew he would oblige by.
When Phil found his way back in, he won't give his heart again.
Even though Phil had read all the things he stored in his heart, the ebony-haired man would never hear the words come out of Dan's mouth.
At at that, Dan knocked on the door.
A/N just letting you know, the story will make much more sense if you go give this song a listen. Once again, its call 'Face by Phillip Phillips'. Its a good song. :3
Anyway, does anyone want a second part almost completely from Phil's point of view. The second part will be based off another Phillip Phillips song and it fits very well with this story right here. Anyway, tell me if you want it. (I continue this story anyway, btw)