A/N: Okay, so this is something a little different to what I usually write but I thought I'd try out writing something a little more serious. Of course this story will become lighter and happier. I don't like tragedies. They make me cry.

Falling In Love With The Lion has already been written on Wattpad. For some reason I can't add a new chapter on it here without my computer crashing so if you want to know what happens, I have the same username there.

This is a bit of a Beta so if you don't like it, or want to change it in anyway leave me a comment or review and I guess we'll see how things are. :)

Ciao for now x

Chapter One

"It's been four months since we had our first meeting, Mr Lester. Did you know that?"

She watched him like a hawk as he cleared his throat awkwardly and continued to pick at the loose threads on the chair like he usually did every week. "No, I didn't." He admitted. "I haven't really been keeping up to date with trivial things like that."

"No." She agreed. "You haven't." She sighed and continued. "It's been four months and in that period of time you haven't improved at all. By now we should be seeing a change in your behaviour. For better or for worse, something should be changing. Are you still taking your medication regularly?"

"Of course." He nodded guiltily, refusing to meet her eyes. Away and away, he picked at the thread.

"You haven't taken them at all have you, Mr Lester?"

He sighed feebly. "I don't need them. I've already told you that."

She sniffed. "Excuse me, Mr Lester. But in my line of profession they all say that. I think that if you have been prescribed medicine then you should take them just to be on the safe side."

"I'm not ill though." He protested. "I may be feeling a little bit sad but I'm not ill. I would know that. Surely, surely I would know." His voice trailed off.

She smiled sadly at him. "But you're not just feeling a little bit sad. From my notes here it says that you were found in my reception room crying manically and begging for my help." She paused, watching for his reaction to her words. "I think you know deep down that you should really take them."

"Is there any other alternative?" He asked desperately. "I don't want to have to take anti-depressants anymore."

She looked back at her notes and sighed. "Depending on how you react with counselling for the next few months I can keep you off of them. But this means that I will have to pull you into these meetings more often. Say, once a week." She warned him as she began to scribble furiously at her notes.

"I will. I'll get better." He promised, looking up from the chair.

Would the counselling be sufficient enough? Looking back at her previous desperate notes she didn't think that it would. In his perspective he was just a little sad and that, after a while, it would merely pass as quickly as it had come, but she knew better.

"In my notes it says that you don't live alone, is that true, Mr Lester?"

He winced uncomfortably at her question. "Phil. My name is Phil." He told her with anguish.

"You've never mentioned anyone close to you before. That's the problem, isn't it?" She asked gently. "You've never mentioned his name or just him in broad before. Generally patients try to hide the person who upsets them by refusing to discuss them. Is this true? Is living with Daniel really making you this unhappy?"

"Dan! His name is Dan! And he is the best thing that's ever happened to me!" He cried out savagely. "But..."

"But?"

"That's the problem." He whispered hoarsely. "I don't have Dan. Not anymore. Not ever again." His voice cracked.

She frowned uncertainly at him. "Has he moved out?"

"You don't get it." Phil dismissed. "He still lives with me but he hates me and it's killing me."

This was the first time Phil had revealed what was wrong but she knew that there would be more to come.

"Why does he hate you?" She asked with interest, forgetting the notebook in her hands suddenly.

He vociferated loudly and held his head in his hands. "Because we were together!" He cried. "We were happy and I went and did something wrong and he broke up with me. Since then he ignores me. I irritate him too much. He never smiles and jokes with me anymore, he snaps and looks away with disgust. He physically hates me."

She looked away from him. His uneasiness was obvious and she didn't want to set him off. "My notes say that you've been withdrawing from social occasions and that you've given up your job, your making videos, completely. You've been worrying your friends and fans very much, Mr Lester."

"What don't your notes say?" He snapped unkindly.

"This is my job." She reminded him gently. "And these notes tell me a lot more than you do. If you want to recover free from medication then you will have to tell me more. I want to help you, Mr Lester. But I need your help to finish this."

"Phil. Please, it's Phil."

He knew she was disappointed when their time was up. He had said only a very little after that, not enough for her "key recovery" scheme. She was curious about him and he knew it but he had already said too much and the very last thing he wanted to do was delve further into the pain that was there constantly.

Four Months Before

Phil walked into house not really paying attention anymore. He did that all the time these days, not paying attention. Instead his mind was full of little daydreams and other inessential thoughts like groceries and... Well, Dan.

He didn't mean to but slammed the door harder than usual from being so deep in thought. From the next room came a familiar distressed cry and Phil's heart skipped a beat fearfully.

"Phil! Did you have to slam that door so loudly?" Came Dan's annoyed protest. He walked into the corridor to glare at Phil with dark, bloodshot eyes.

"You're drunk." Phil confirmed sadly.

"Yes and my heads killing so thanks, Phil. Thanks a lot." Dan replied, his glare still in place.

"I'm sorry, Dan. Really, I am."

"You always say you're sorry." He complained. "Do you ever say anything else?"

Phil looked at him dismayed. "Of course I do. Remember, we used to talk all the time. All you ever do now is snap at me constantly."

"And all you do is bleat." He retorted, returning his attention back on the bottle in his hand. Phil noticed this.

"Please Dan. You've already drunk enough. Give me the bottle." Dan slapped his hands away.

"What are you, my mother?" He slurred.

"I can't stand to see you like this, Dan. Please, please stop drinking and give me that bloody bottle!"

He laughed, an uncomfortably cold sound. "I don't care how you feel, Phil." He revealed. "I just want to party."

Phil shook his head firmly. "Not like this you won't. Come and sit down and we can put a movie on. Whichever one you want to watch and I'll go make you a strong coffee. Please, come and sit down." He went to reach for Dan's arm but Dan slapped him away forcefully.

"Don't touch me, Phil." He hissed aggressively and walked off, locking himself in his room.

Phil stared at his door trying not to cry but failing. Slowly he slumped onto the floor and wept quietly as he heard Dan crying from his room.

What had happened to them? He found himself asking over and over again. Only months before they were so happy and now look at them. Two separate messes. One trying to reach the other, the other responding only in spiteful comments. Once upon a time they were happy with each other. They were the closest of friends and, after a while, even closer. Phil knew that, once upon a time, he felt like he couldn't be any happier and now he felt like he couldn't be any sadder. The Wheel of Fortune had thrown him higher than he thought was possible and threw him further down than he could deal with.

Was it possible that two people could change their feelings about the other so quickly? Well that wasn't true for Phil. He still loved Dan as much as he did when they were younger and yet now, even a year later, those feelings hadn't left him.

If only he could hate Dan long enough to leave. If only he could hate Dan enough so that still, after everything he had said, his behaviour to Phil wouldn't hurt him anymore. But that was impossible. Phil could never hate Dan, no matter what and so he stayed. Feeling more and more miserable, Phil knew something needed to give. He needed help.

Suicide had never once crossed his mind and he made up his mind that it never would. He didn't want to die; he just wanted to be happy. He just wanted Dan. But everyday, when a little more of him would die, he wondered why he was still so adamant to live. And that scared him. He didn't want to have to consider that and that was why he found himself standing up and straightening his top.

Furiously, he wiped the tears off of his face and grabbed his keys. He wanted help and he would fight to get it. Closing the door quietly this time, he walked off trying hard not to cry.

Hearing the door close from his room, Dan cautiously unlocked his door and walked to the corridor staggering slightly. Phil was gone. His biggest nightmare had happened. Phil had left him, he was sure of it.

"Fuck!" He cried. But reason, as little as it was, told him that Phil would surely take his stuff if he had left him forever. Still this gave him very little hope. Phil must really hate him by now. Especially when he was drunk like this. At least when he was sober they could pretend nothing was wrong. They would still make videos together and talk and stuff. Not as well as they used to but they both worked hard to forget a lot of things.

But when Dan was drunk, it changed completely. He said things he didn't want to say, he did things he didn't want to do and Phil was always the one he lashed out at.

Because? Because Dan loved him still and it was unfair because Dan wasn't allowed to love him. Not like that, not anymore. They were finished, their relationship had ended and by him.

But things couldn't stay like this anymore. Dan needed to reach Phil before he lost him forever. Because without Phil, Dan was nothing.

Reaching for his phone he managed to send one literate text before rushing to the bathroom in a drunken panic.

Phil, please, please come home. I need to apologise to you in person. I am so, so sorry. x