He's gone, I tell myself. There's no getting him back.

It wasn't my fault. I did what I could, but Dan didn't understand. But then, maybe it was my fault. I should have made him understand, kept him by my side so she wouldn't have thought I was available. But I didn't, and she did.

I sink into the chair and tuck my feet up. It's a very Dan-way of sitting, and something which I've seen him do for years now, every time he was sad, or anxious, or we'd fought. But for some reason, it had never been me to do that. It had been my fault he'd felt so small inside that he'd wanted to be small outside too. And now our roles were reversed.

I stare at the door of our flat. He went, slamming it behind him; his softly spoken words, filled with hurting and anger, entering my heart into his void. "I get it, Phil. You're not the guy I thought you were."

Maybe it'd have hurt less if he'd screamed at me, tried to hit me or her. But he didn't. His voice was barely a whisper and it cracked with betrayal. And for some reason, that made me want to fight someone. Fight her, even!

No no! I'd never actually hit a girl - or even a guy - unless in self-defense, but I had felt it. That overwhelming surge of anger at myself and Annette. Hell, I didn't even know the girl! But already, she had ruined everything for me.

I leap up and grab my phone, punching in the number I never thought that I would be calling like this, and listen as it rings and rings and rings.

It stops before the sixth ring, and I know he's rejected me. In more ways than one.

I drop back into the chair and curl up, tucking my head under my arm.

"Phil, honey?" Sickly sweet. And the petname makes me want to retch. I think about ignoring her, staying wrapped in my own ball of misery, but I know I can't do that. Dan doesn't deserve that.

I shake my head, breathing deeply, and rise to face her. If looks could kill, Annette would be dead and burned, rotting in hell where she belongs.

"Get out."

"But, Phil..!"

"No." Hell, I don't even know why she'd come back into the living room. If she'd had any sense, she'd have ran as soon as I woke up and realised that the soft embrace I was being held in wasn't Dan's. Before that even.

"I think you need to leave, Annette. I don't know why you're here." She just stares at me, a soft pout on her plump red lips. I step towards her. "Do you know what you've done?"

She keeps watching me, her bright blue eyes looking dazed and confused. I can feel myself bubbling, the anger beginning to tear at my lungs and throat. "Annette! Just fucking leave!" I shout.

And stop.

Who am I? I'm Phil Lester. Dan's Phil Lester. I'm not some psycho who screams at girls and swears. But I'm not Annette's. I belong to Dan Howell, and right now, I need him.

She's shaking, but miraculously, not crying. I inhale slowly, and shut my eyes, counting to ten. "Annette. I think you should go now." I say, calmly. And I walk to the door, the same one being slammed on my heart less than ten minutes ago, and pull it open. She gets the hint, and follows me, still shaky and beginning to look little more tearful. Maybe she thinks it'll make me more sympathetic, but I'm not wasting a second on anyone right now, unless they're brown-haired and mine.

"Don't contact us again. Don't come near us." I tell her as she passes by me. "I think you can get youself home from here." Wherever that might be, I add mentally.

I shut the door and press my forehead against the cool wood. I'm exhausted, both emtionally and physically, yet still, I know I need to do something. I need to get him back.

What he saw was terrible, but it wasn't what he thinks. I wasn't well. I barely made it out of the pub I'd been in, 'drinking' with a couple of my YouTube mates, and into the street before I was sick. I don't know what happened - I'd eaten before we went out, and I'd only had a pint, but for some reason, it didn't feel like that.

And that was when she came. "Hey. I'm Annette. Are you okay?" I was throwing up and shaking, and she saw me and came to help. I didn't know she'd recognised me, but I should have realised. Of course I should have. And so I let her take me home. I don't remeber anything clearly, just vague snappshots of taxis and illness and falling into bed before I'd even finished changing.

I hadn't known she'd come in with me. So far in to the extent she was somehow in bed beside me. She was fully clothed; me missing a shirt. But nothing had happened, she was just there. And that was how Dan found us.

I didn't know, and I know ignorance is not a excuse for it, but I wasn't well. If he'd stayed, I could hav explained - she could have explained. And then I wouldn't be standing here, doing nothing, the love of my life thinking I cheated on him. Cheated on him.

Shit, I push off of the door and run to get my wallet and keys. What am I doing?! The man I love is out there and I need him - no matter what he thinks.

I lock the door behind me, and I'm running. Away from Annette, and mistakes, and stupidness.

Towards my future.

And I find it sitting outside the apartment building on the floor, his feet tucked up how I knew they would be. But he's crying, and then, so am I.

His beautiful eyes look up and he blinks away the tears. And he smiles.

"Oh Phil... what took you so long?"

A/N Awwwh! This made me sad to write but it's so adorable and I love them so much. Improvements and advice please, as always. :)