WARNINGS FOR: Language, one sex mention

PROMPT (Submitted by: gracieTpie): That was great! So cute, loved it! Could you please do a oneshot about them to do with cats or the piano? Thanks! Xx

Thank you so much for the kind words! I'd love to do a chapter on this, and to be honest I was wanting to write about Dan playing the piano for a long time. So what better time to do so than at four in the morning on a school night? Thanks insomnia! But anyway: I decided on the piano because I feel cats would be too easy – and the piano is heavily underrated in the phandom. To help with mood, I've listened to "Better Than Yourself" by Lukas Graham on repeat, so if that helps you at all. Even if you don't listen to it while reading, I really would like for you guys to listen to that song at least once, since I quote it in here and I would like you guys to know the way Dan sings it. Thank you again so much for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

-Elena


Chapter Three

Song for the Siren

G.

In 2009, the piano was nothing more than a hobby. Dan had played it, of course, and Phil had always set aside time on purpose to listen to the notes, but it never became anything of major significance until a few years later. The melodies were always so sweet, so upbeat, so hopeful – so loving. He would always try to teach him, and mistakes were always made. They'd giggle, and it'd all be okay, because they would move on as if nothing ever happened at all.

"You know what Dan, I'm not really cut out for music. I think it should just be you doing it, it'll be your thing."

"Sure."

They were so happy. They were so, so happy.

F sharp.

In 2012, everything changed. It became the era of Dan's life that he played the piano most. What else could he do? He couldn't go anywhere without someone pushing his and Phil's relationship, even on the internet – especially on the internet. He was drowning in a sea of grief; it felt easier to let the water into his lungs, to give in. It felt easier to just swim down.

The piano was his escape, his release, a way of expression. He would belt out the lyrics of whatever he played, slamming his fingers down onto black and white, his face wet and his voice desperate. The songs were sombre, so melancholy, an overwhelming sadness that vibrated throughout the walls of their apartment.

Phil was never with him when this music was played, but he heard it. He would sit outside the door, his eyes closed and leaning against the wall, tears on both sides of his face. He wanted to go in there and sing with him, playing along – he wanted to do whatever it took to restore what they had, but he couldn't. He was so scared, and he loved his best friend so much. He couldn't do it. No matter how hard either of them cried, he couldn't do it.

"You got your head up, but I don't have my hopes high. I know that you're a good man, and that's what, brings a tear to my eye. I'm like, oh-oh, I hope you know you're not alone in that hell. And there ain't, no-oh, no one can change it, no one can do it better than yourself."

The music was so powerful, so beautiful, but so miserable. It was a terrible comfort, but they needed something, anything. It felt like the water was pulling them in deeper, both of them stuck in a scenario where suffocation was the only possible outcome. At times, they wished for that outcome. It would have been easier.

They were so sad. They were so, so sad.

B.

E.

In 2013, changes were more of a shift. A slow, gradual shift that felt like a car with only two wheels working. But it was working, nonetheless, and two wheels were all they needed. All they truly needed was just one wheel, but two made it that much easier. It was rocky, trudging along the best it could until they could get the ball rolling on its own.

They would, but it took a year.

Dan continued to play the piano just as he always had, but it felt so strange. His mind was cluttered and could only remember the times he played it the year before. That awful point in their lives forever tainted the memory of the piano, but he played anyway.

Even if it hurt, it was still soothing – and it still comforted the two boys during times when they're hurting more than they could take. They still loved it, even if they hated it. The same could be said for each other.

There were times Dan's fingers stopped while they laced across the keys, his hand trembling and his breathing shaky. His eyes would water, and Phil would slowly walk up behind him, wrapping his arms around his best friend and holding him tightly from behind. In those times, they would cry, clinging to each other and giving each other nothing less than the love and support they needed and deserved.

The world hadn't ended yet – and they had made it through hell together. They did it, and things were getting better, slowly but surely; but that still didn't stop the pain.

They didn't know what they were.

D.

2014 was very different from the years before. It almost felt like home, in a sense, reminding them of how things were and how they were always meant to be. It wasn't quite like how things were before, but things were pretty damn close.

The sadness would occasionally slip back into their lives, mainly Dan's, while Phil had almost moved on from what happened two years before entirely. He could still hear the piano, he would still remember the music, but along with it he would feel the same heart-wrenching pain he had tried so hard to subside. Sometimes, Phil wouldn't remember why Dan would come to him in a fit of tears, holding him tightly and blubbering about how much he loved him.

It took a few times before he finally figured it out. It would get to the point to where he would treat Dan's occasional moments of sadness the same way he would help his lover through his existential crises or an anxiety attack: a moment of making love just between the two of them to ease his mind off the subject, and some movie or round or two of Mario Kart after it was all said and done.

It was something, anything, to help him forget. No, forget wasn't the right word, because 2012 was a year they would have to remember for the rest of their lives. It was more like acceptance, or a toleration.

They were enough, they were so enough, and it was unbelievable how enough they were.

Dan's piano playing had reduced greatly, but towards the latter half of the year, he began to pick it back up again, the music that he played were mainly songs he couldn't get out of his head, or at least something he had been trying to learn forever. Comforted and collected, the melodies soothing their heads until they couldn't stay awake any longer.

They were more like lullabies, those piano pieces. They were lullabies.

"Keep playing Dan," Phil said, his voice smoother than honey and a smile brighter than the sun. He placed his hand on top of one of Dan's, but not enough to impede on the work, but enough to feel the sensation of each other's skin. "I love it when you play."

G.

C.

B.

2015.

"Hey Phil, could you help me with something?"

"Sure."

Phil followed the trail of the voice, to find Dan sitting at his piano, tapping his foot and papers scattered around him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm writing a song. It was some tune stuck in my head, and I want to play it out," Dan said as he flipped through what he had written so far. It was about a ten-minute song, but he had no intentions of playing the entire piece out right then and there. "I want your opinion on it."

Phil nodded, intrigued by what his flatmate had to present to him, "Go for it," he said.

When the melody began, it started as a bittersweet harmony in the typical fashion of Dan Howell's music taste. But, it slowed, the notes growing heavier with more weight on each sound, before the unexpected happened.

He started to sing.

Phil didn't really expect words to come out of his lover's mouth, and he was lucky enough that he could hear the lyrics because he sang so quietly. And yet, even through the quiet, the words escaping his lips resonated throughout the whole apartment complex.

"Because now,

Forever and always,

I will love you,

I will love you,

Until my dying day,

Forever and always,

Always,

You were mine."

They were happy. Once more they were happy. So, so happy.

E.

2016.

"You know, Dan, I don't think I could ever imagine a life without you."

"I could imagine it, but it's an awfully sad life."

"Then let's not live a life without each other."

"That sounds like a plan."

A.

The year is 2022.

All it took was a few more notes before they sealed their love for the rest of their lives. It was just a few notes left before they took one step further. After it was all said and done, they returned to their home like they normally would, and one of the first things they did was play a duet. It was the first time Phil had tried since they first met, and Dan taught him everything.

Because they weren't separate people anymore. They were one being. It was no longer just "Dan and Phil," it was just "them."

They were so happy.

So, so happy.

D.


Thank you guys so much for reading, I hope you liked it! This was a new angle I tried and it was really fun to write. I hope you enjoyed it and I can't wait for more submissions!

-Elena