I flciked the side of my chair again and again in a rhythm. I honestly couldn't remember a time when I would have actually died for ten minutes of Angry Birds. Or Tumblr: Twitter. Something other than just sitting here in an empty waiting room apart from ourselves! I knew what was going on inside my brain, though; Phil. I wanted Angry Birds, not because I was bored, but to stop myself thinking about how badly I could kiss him, hold him...
A man appeared from one of the many doorways leading off this big hall of wasted space full of chairs, flashed a smile at me before sitting down and disappearing behind a newspaper. After that small distraction, I was stuck thinking about how badly I wanted a newspaper, even; reading about Rihanna doing this and Rihanna doing that had to be better than sitting here doing NOTHNG. Which of course, brought back the subject of Phil Lester.
As if on cue, he silently tapped the back of my hand, that I had been subconciously rapid-tapping the seat with. "Stop that, Dan, it's blood annoying," he whispered.
A lightbulb appeared above my head as I tapped the chair again; Phil pretended he didn't notice, but I kept doing it again and again and again, seeing him wince every time was like taunting a puppy with treats to get it to sit or whatever you want to train your 3 week old dog to do. Finally, he snapped.
"Dan! For crying out loud!"
I grinned, and went back to tapping out a cool little rhythm, slowing it down and speeding it up to my heart's content. Next thing I knew, I was pinned against the wall by Phil. Instead of pinning my wrists, he had went slightly of target and was nailing the back of my hands to the cold wall with his, his fingers interlacing with mine. His face was so close, I could smell his lynx and that stupid raspberry shower gel he uses. His breath on my face was warm, sweet...forget about Angry Birds, this was way better than anything like that.
After a few seconds of staring into each other's eyes, Phil moved in closer to me, so our noses almost touched. The Phangirls would be lining up outside by now...
"Please. Stop. It. You're acting like a child!"
"But Daddy I'm bored!" I whined in immitation of a four year old.
"Dan, seriously, this could make or break us. Now please, we can do whatever you want when we get home, but please, just for now!"
Around the block...
"Fine," I said, but didn't move. Neither did Phil. Both of us just stood there, eyes locked in that bond that had not yet been broken; neither of us could tear our eyes away. I could sense Mr Newspaper staring at us, but I didn't care. This was just a perfect moment, and who cares what anyone else thought about it, except maybe the vivid blue eyes staring into my brown.