A bruise: an injury appearing as a small patch of discolored skin, caused by a blow to the body. They were also slowly appearing on Phil's paper white skin.
It all started about a month ago, when Phil burst into my bedroom with tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. He had curled up on my bed, resting his head on my shoulder and staring up at me with giant, teary eyes.
I had brought my hand up to his cheek to wipe away the forming tears, freezing when he visibly flinched.
"What's wrong?" I'd muttered, slowly lifting my arms to wrap around his shaking form.
Phil lifted his head from my shoulder, finally allowing me a clear look at his face. I sucked my lower lip in between my teeth as I spotted the large red hand shaped spot Phil's cheek was sporting. My eyes immediately widened and I slowly lifted my hand once again to slowly brush my fingers over his cheek, just above the red spot.
"He did this to you, didn't he?" I growled.
Phil's eyes fluttered closed, his lips pursed.
"Where is he?" I snarled.
"Outside," he murmured.
I stumbled to my feet, making a move to leave but Phil grabbed my hand, tugging me back.
"Please don't hurt him," he begged. "He didn't mean to!"
"He hurt you," I whimpered.
"He didn't mean to," he repeated. "Please, just sit with me."
I agreed. But I shouldn't have. I should have just stormed out and let that bastard know that hurting Phil was out of the question. I should have given him a bruise of his own. But I didn't. Instead I sat back down and allowed Phil to sob into my chest. I allowed him to convince me that his boyfriend didn't mean it.
I was an idiot.
Since that time, more bruises and slap marks have appeared on Phil's body. He hides them well, but I see them. (Well, most of them.) But whenever I question him about it, he just assures me that everything is fine and avoids the question. He insists that it's not his boyfriend whose hurting him. He says it's his own clumsiness that causing all the bruises. He tells me that his boyfriend hitting him was a one time thing.
I know he's lying.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. I have to confront Phil about this sooner or later. I force myself to my feet and trudge towards Phil's room. I can hear him shuffling around behind the door. He's probably searching for some prop for a video.
"Phil?" I cry out, knocking against his door.
I can hear all movement stop. And then there's the quit reply of, "C-Come in."
I slowly push open the bedroom door, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion when my eyes land on the half packed suitcase on his bed.
"Where're you going?" I ask quietly.
I've completely forgotten what I came in here for. All I can focus on is the open suitcase. Phil shuffles his feet awkwardly, refusing to make eye contact with me.
"Dan..." he breaths, his eyes darting guiltily around the room.
"Phil," I reply, quietly. "What's-What's going on?"
"C-Collin asked me to move in with him," he admits after a small pause, his voice sounding small.
I stare at him with wide, terrified eyes. Phil's leaving. He's leaving our flat. He's leaving me.
"Oh," is all I can manage, my eyes trained on the floor.
"We'll still see each other," Phil mutters. "We'll still make videos."
I cautiously set forward, slipping my arms around my best friend's slim frame. I bury my face in his shoulder as he returns the gesture.
"When are you leaving?" I ask, my voice more timid than I would like.
"This weekend," he murmurs. "But I'm only bringing a suitcase at first. I'll be back to get the rest of my stuff."
I tighten my grip around him, his flinch not going unnoticed. I quickly pull away and stare at him with concerned eyes.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I question.
"What do you mean?" he squeaks.
I sigh before slowly undoing the top button on his plaid shirt, revealing a fresh bruise. His eyes flutter closed and he buries his face in my chest, almost as if he's embarrassed.
"Phil he's hurting you enough as it is," I say. "It's only going to get worse-"
"He's not hurting me!"
We stare at each other, Phil's bright eyes almost angry that I would suggest such a thing.
"He loves me..." Phil's blue eyes turn soft again, suddenly becoming large, almost pleading. Begging me to believe him.
"I know," I breath, pulling him back to my chest.
My chest constricts at the words. How am I able to lie to him? Collin doesn't love him. If he did, Phil wouldn't be covered with these disgusting bruises.
"Hey," I smile. "Why don't we have a movie night? We can watch Big Hero 6 and Howl's Moving Castle, and top it off with a full season of Attack on Titan."
"That's a lot of TV," Phil chuckles.
"That's the point, dork," I roll my eyes, a snicker escaping my lips.
"Can we make popcorn?" Phil asks.
"Of course," I nod. "Why wouldn't we make popcorn?"
"Collin says it's too fattening," Phil mumbles.
I sigh and ruffle his hair, causing him to giggle.
"Food's only good if it's fattening," I smirk. "Now c'mon. We have a hell of a lot of time to waste."
"Are you sure you wanna leave?"
I'm standing in the living room, hugging Phil close to my chest. His face is buried in my shoulder with his arms wrapped tightly around me.
My ebony haired friend takes a moment before answering. But then he slowly nods, looking up at me sheepishly through his eyelashes.
"Okay," I mumble as I buried my face in his hair. "I'm gonna miss you. I'm gonna miss you so, so much."
"I know," breaths Phil. "I'm gonna miss you too. But I'll visit constantly! It'll be like I never left!"
I chuckle, running my fingers through his hair.
"Then why are you leaving?" I murmur.
Something flashes in Phil's eyes, but it's gone so fast I'm questioning if it was ever there.
"I love him," he mumbles.
"I know," I sigh. "Just...don't let him hurt you, kay?"
Phil chews anxiously on his lower lip, his eyes fixed on something over my shoulder.
"He's not hurting me," he mumbles.
"And if he ever hurts you, call me," I demand, sending him what I hope is a stern yet friendly stare. "Call me and I'll pick you up and bring you back here." When he doesn't answer, I grab his shoulders and hold him at arms length. "Alright?"
"He's not hurting me!" he repeats.
"Please just promise me," I beg.
A sigh escapes his lips. Slowly, he nods, his lower lip still trapped between his teeth.
"I just want to make sure you're safe," I mutter as I pull him in for another hug.
Our moment is interrupted by a loud knocking. Phil shoots me a small smile before untangling himself from my arms and hurrying towards the door.
"Hi Collin!" Phil chirps.
I hear Collin chuckle, before answering with a: "Hi, Philly."
I feel my blood boil at the nickname. Collin doesn't deserve to call him that. He's my Philly. I tiptoe around the corner just in time to see them sharing a quick kiss.
"Do you have your stuff?" Collin asks, his brown eyes fixed on my best friend's face.
Phil nods, grabbing the suitcase from where it sat next to do the door.
"Bye Dan," he says softly.
I just smile in return, knowing that I'll break down if I say anything. We share another quick hug before he turns back towards his boyfriend. Collin wraps an arm possessively around Phil's waist, directing him towards the cab that waits outside our-my-flat. Phil turns to send me a wave, which I return before closing the door.
As soon as the door closes something snaps inside of me. As if it's only sinking in now that Phil's leaving, that we're no longer flatmates. A sob rises up in my chest and I run my hands through my hair as tears burn my eyes. All I want is for Phil to hold me. For him to hold me and tell me that everything will be alright. That he won't leave that won't happen. Because he has left. And nothing will be alright.
I know he said he would visit. And I don't doubt that for a second. But it won't be the same. He won't be staying here. I can't crawl into his bed after having a nightmare one night. Or stay up watching anime with him until the early hours of the morning. I won't wander into the kitchen to find him munching on my cereal.
A chuckle forced it's way through the tears as I thought about all the stupid arguments we'd had about cereal.
I'd say something along the lines of: "Phil stop eating my cereal!"
And he would reply with: "But we live together. It should be both of our cereal!"
And I would make some snarky remark, insulting him. But we'd both know I didn't mean it. We both knew I loved him.
I love him and will do anything for him.
Anything except apparently save him from the monster he's dating.
My lower lip trembles as fresh tears slide down my cheeks. I let him go. I let him leave. I didn't even put up a fight. How am I supposed to protect him now‽ When we lived together I was able to hold him while he cried, even if I wasn't there to protect him when he was hurt. Now what will happen? Will he call me? Probably. But even then I won't be able to hold him.
Another sob escapes my lips and I wrap my arms around myself.
Why am I so damn weak? I should be protecting Phil. Instead I just let it happen.
I suppose it's not completely my fault. I'm never there when he's actually hurt, and whenever I try and talk sense into Phil and tell him to break up with Collin, he doesn't listen. He just keeps going on about how Collin loves him and doesn't mean to hurt him and how it's not even that bad. Bullshit. Absolute bullshit.
I've seen the bruises he carries. Granted, there aren't actually that many of them. But I'm positive that will change now that he's living with Collin.
A whimper emits from my throat as I think about all the horrible things that could happen to Phil. My Phil. My Philly.
I know he's technically not mine. We're not dating, but I feel like I would be a better boyfriend than Collin. I definitely wouldn't beat him.
I won't deny the fact that I have feelings for Phil. Everyone knows I do, even if I don't say so. But it doesn't really matter. He loves Collin. And he won't ever feel the same way.
At first Phil was good about visiting. He was at our-my (Damn, I'm never going to get used to that) flat nearly as often as he was at Collin's flat. But then he slowly started to visit less, and eventually our conversations got more and more scarce.
I'm slowly going insane. I can't live life without Phil. And now that he's gone, I don't know what to do. I leave the house even less than I did when he was here. I hardly ever make videos. I can even feel myself wanting to fall back into my old ways of depression, back before I met Phil. The only thing stopping me is the fact that I know Phil wouldn't want me to.
I can picture the look of pure sadness on his face if he discovers I've fallen back into that pattern.
I'm snapped out of my thoughts by the ringing of a cell phone. I groan as I realize my phone is across the room and I have to actually move to pick it up. Slowly, I drag myself to where my phone is sitting. As soon as I glance at whose calling me my eyes light up. I answer the call as fast as I can, a smile fighting it's way onto my face.
"Phil?"
"D-Dan‽"
My smile immediately disappears when I hear his voice. It's shaky and unsure, as if he's been crying.
"Whats's wrong?" I question.
"Can you come get me?" he asks with a small sniffle. "Please?"
"Of course," I nod, worry creeping into my stomach. "Where are you?"
"In Collin's flat," he murmurs.
I can't help but feel pleased when he doesn't say 'my flat'.
"Okay, I'll be there in a couple minutes," I tell him.
"O-Okay," he stutters.
I'm about to hang up the call when I suddenly stop. Phil's upset and don't want to leave him by himself. Even if it's just for a few minutes.
"Philly?" I whisper as I shrug on my coat and step outside. "Do you want me to stay on the phone with you until I get there?"
Another sniffle. "Y-Yes please."
"Okay," I murmur. I think about what to say as I flag down a cab. "How's the move going?" I ask the question slowly, as if I'm unsure if it's the right thing to say.
I can hear Phil taking a deep, sharp breath. "F-Fine." There's a short pause. "I miss you though."
"I know," I mutter. "I miss you too."
I hop into the cab and give the driver the address.
"You have to come get the rest of your stuff," I say. "You haven't been over in awhile..." I trail off, a heavy feeling settling on chest as I think about my words. I haven't seen him in so long.
"I know," he sniffles again. "I'm sorry about that."
"It's okay," I reply, quietly.
Suddenly the sound of a door being thrown open meets my ears, the sound being followed by Phil's gasp.
"Who're you talkin' to‽" I flinch when I hear Collin's angry, slightly slurred voice.
"No-No one," stutters Phil.
"Who are you talking to‽" Collin roars, causing Phil to whimper.
"It's j-just a fr-friend!" Phil pleads.
Collin scoffs. "It's Dan, isn't it?"
"N-No!" squeaks Phil.
"I told you to stop talking to him!" Collin yells.
"I-I'm sorry!" the small sob that escapes Phil's lips snaps me out of my horrified trance.
"Phil‽" I cry. "Phil‽ Phil, are you alright‽"
Out of the quiet sobs, I can hear Phil's pleads, which make my chest constrict painfully.
"Philly is mine." I grind my teeth as I once again hear Collin's intoxicated voice.
"You little-"
I let out a frustrated yell, followed by a couple profanities grumbled under my breath, as I realize Collin's hung up. I grip my hair, nearly yanking it out of my head. What had happened? Is Phil okay? Oh god, of course he's not okay.
I can feel tears burning behind my eyes and I bury my face in my hands.
The next few minutes are the longest of my life. I never knew a few short minutes could make someone so anxious and upset.
As soon as the cab pulls up in front of Collin's flat, I burst out and bolt to the front door. I spot Phil sitting in front of the door, his arms wrapped around his legs and his face pressed against his knees.
"Phil‽" I yelp, causing his head to snap up. "Phil, oh god, are you okay‽"
He nods, slowly, as I kneel beside him.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
I place a hand on Phil's shoulder, my breath catching when he whimpers and flinches away.
"Phil," I murmur. "Are you sure you're alright?"
"I'm fine," he turns away, sniffling the slightest bit.
"What happened when Collin hung up on me?" I question, quietly.
"N-Nothing," stutters Phil.
"Phil..." I plead.
He takes a deep, shaky breath before turning to face me again. He lifts his face so the dim light finally sits on his face.
"Oh god..." I breath.
His upper lip is swollen and cut, his right cheek in bright red and his left eye is bruised and slightly swollen. I lift my hand, lowering it again when Phil shuffles away the slightest bit.
"He did this to you, didn't he?" I snarl.
"Dan..." he whimpers.
"Don't you dare say he didn't!" I shout, jumping to my feet. "I know he did and I know he's been hurting you!"
"Dan, stop, please," he begs.
My eyes soften as I notice his cowering form.
"Please stop yelling," he pleads.
"Okay," I murmur, taking a deep breath as I try and calm down. "Okay. C'mon, let's go back to our-erm, my-flat."
Phil sadly looks back down at his feet.
"I have to wait here," he mutters.
"Why?" I frown, cocking my head in confusion.
"Collin won't be very happy if he comes to get me and I'm not here," he sniffles.
"He also won't be able to hurt you," I inform. "Now c'mon."
I reach my hand out, which he stares at uncertainly for a moment. Then he cautiously grabs my hand and allows me to pull him to his feet. I wrap my arm protectively around his waist, a small smile flickering over my face when he cuddles closer to me.
We step into the cab and Phil places his head on my chest as I place my head on top of his head, running my arm in what I hope is a soothing manner. I give the driver my address before letting my eyes flicker closed.
"Thank you."
I crack my eyes open, finding Phil staring up at me.
"Of course," I smile, wrapping my arms tightly around his figure.