Phil's POV:
The alcohol burned so damn much. It felt like a million needles poking into my skin. "Take off your shirt" I heard him weep "What?!" I responded, then looking down at my bloodied shirt and putting the pieces together. "You heard me" He yelled with the only strength he had.
I couldn't let him see my fat, disgusting body. But, I can't help it when he's sad. I took off my shirt, and shortly after remembered about my cuts around my hips and stomach "Great" I thought as I drew my knees into my chest to try and hide it. "Lay down" He struggled for breath as he grabbed the alcohol again.
I did what he said, and he poured it all over my torso until the bottle was empty. He wrapped the bandage around me and pulled down my shirt. Without me saying a word, he pulled my body closer to his and he cried into my shoulder. He kept saying "I'm sorry". Does he know?
Dan's POV:
I couldn't help but to hug Phil. He had been through so much; and I felt like it was my entire fault. My fault… for not noticing earlier, for not talking to him, for not being there for him. After multiple minutes, I pulled away and at Phil. He didn't seem nearly as shaken as I was.
"I'll buy you a new shirt tomorrow… Okay?" I offered "No, Dan you don't" I stopped him "I need to" I said squeezing his hand. He sighed in response. I looked over at his dresser to see a journal hidden under what must have been hundreds of envelopes. "How long has thing been going on?" I asked, looking back at him- No response- I'll make sure to check into his journal later.
I took his hand to the living room and placed a fresh plate of pancakes in front of him. "Eat" I mumbled as I turned on the TV. He looked at it like it was some bowl filled with shit. "Eat" I said louder. "You just don't get it" He yelled as he threw the plate across the room and slammed his door behind him.
