Dan sat staring with bloodshot eyes at a spot on the wall. He subconsciously rubbed his cast on his left hand. He hadn't heard anything off of Phil for two days and he was worried. He thought he'd lost his greatest friend. He hadn't eaten in days but he had a glass of water every night. He didn't watch TV or go on the internet, just sorted and looked after the flat all day.
He tried to contact Phil, but couldn't get through. He spoke to Alex regularly to see how Phil was and tell him how he was getting on. Pretty bad, mostly.
Dan could feel his smashed knuckles protesting at the touch, even through the cast, but he didn't care.
Then, his phone went off. He snapped himself out of the trance he had been in for the past half-an-hour and answered it.
"Hello?" Dan cringed at how weak his voice sounded.
"Dan? It's Phil."
It's Phil. That was enough to have Dan smiling and caring again.
"You don't hate me?"
"I could never hate you. I just needed a bit of time away," Phil said, feeling so guilty.
"Oh."
"But I'm not going to stay away much longer. I know you're struggling."
"Alex?"
"Yeah, he told me. How's your hand?"
"Broken three of my fingers but they put a cast round it and it should be fine. When are you coming back?"
"As soon as I can." And with that, Phil hung up. Dan quickly started panicking. Was the flat clean enough? Will he be angry? Did he le about not hating me? Dan pushed those negative thoughts to the back of his mind and decided to wash up a bit and sort out his hair a bit. He changes his shirt and trousers and threw his clothes in the laundry bin.
He then got a text off of Alex.
he's coming back, dan. he'll look after u now. -alex
i dont need looking after! ._. -dan
thats why u punched a wall? -alex
Dan didn't reply to that, just laughed abit. He quickly tidied up the lunge a bit and made a coffee, then, the door opened and Phil appeared. He whispered a heartfelt apology and Dan did the same.
"You're so pale," Phil observed. He strode up to his friend and looked him in the eye. "Why?"
"I guess it's the pain." Dan gestured to his cast.
"No pain-killers?"
"No." Phil sighed and gave him a sympathetic glance. He led Dan over to the sofa and flicked the TV on. Then he went to get some snacks (including Maltesers) and sat next to him. Phil put on Buffy and watched as Dan relaxed into the cushions.
"Didn't they give you pain-killers?" Dan nodded, his mouth full of Malteser mush. "Why aren't you taking them?"
"I didn't really notice the pain."
Phil scoffed. "Will you take them now if I get them?"
"I don't need them."
"Please?"
"...Fine. They're in the bathroom cabinet." Phil got up to get them. "Wow!" he called. "The flat is spotless, Dan!"
When he'd returned Dan had fallen asleep on the sofa. Phil placed the bottle of pills of the coffee table and left for some water. How could he be so selfish as to move out?! Dan needed him and he'd left him to stew in self loathing. He didn't deserve forgiveness, but he was relieved that they were on good terms. He couldn't live without Dan.