Chapter 9 - Searching and Snuggling

Dan still hasn't returned, and it's almost eleven thirty at night. He left about an hour ago to go shopping, right after his liveshow finished. Shopping usually takes him forty-five minutes at most, so where is he?

I'm sitting on his bed, my own computer in my lap. I decide to go and ask Phil if he knows what's up.

"Phil?" I ask, knocking on his door. He looks up, startled. I think he's editing a video. "Phil, has Dan texted or called you?"

Phil shakes his head and glances at the time. "No, he hasn't. He's been gone quite a while, hasn't he?"

"Yeah," I say. "I'm gonna go try to find him, okay?" Phil nods and resumes his work on his computer.

After pulling on my coat, I take the usual walking route to where Dan and Phil usually buy things. My feet grow tired quickly, but I've been texting Dan for the past five minutes and he hasn't responded once. I continue walking when I feel a buzz from my phone. I see Dan's picture and name and immediately lift the phone to my ear.

"Dan?" I ask.

"Hey," I hear him mumbling.

"Where the fuck are you? I've been texting you and you've been gone over an hour!" I don't know if I'm more worried or angry. Probably worried.

"I'm at the park." I realize suddenly that I'm running to the nearest park, the one Dan, Phil and I go frequently.

"Why the everloving-fluff are you at the park?" I ask as I run. Dan's fake swear-words have started stealing away into my mind so much that I use them. "I thought you were going to go shopping?"

I skid to a stop at the park. In the dark night, it's difficult to see because the only things illuminating the park are the lamps, moon and stars. In the distance, I see a bench beneath one of the park lamps. There's a figure with curly hair. Dan. He has his phone to his ear.

A sigh. "I didn't," I hear him whisper from the other end of the phone.

"I see you, Dan. I'm coming over to you right now."

With that, I hang up and run up to him. I stand in front of him, arms crossed, and stare at him. His eyes are red. He looks like he's been crying. Not a lot, but a bit. His eyes are red and slightly puffy. He looks exhausted. I sit next to him.

"Dan, what the heck is wrong with you? Phil and I were worried," I whisper, as if my raised voice will disrupt something. But the only sound besides me is the whistling wind. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay." He runs a hand through his hair. "Sorry. No, I'm not. I'm not fucking okay. Fuck." He looks angry at himself, and I hate to see him like this. I pull him into a tight hug.

"What is it, Dan?" I ask. "Existential crisis? A depression episode? I'm here to help you with anything you need, you know." Dan shakes his head, and he looks really sad.

"No, I can't tell you. You wouldn't be able to do anything about it."

"Daniel James Howell, I will try to help you however I can," I say, gripping his forearm. "Just tell me. Let me try to do something about it."

He mutters something incoherent to himself. Then he looks at me.

"I hated seeing the Phangirls being like that to you on Twitter. Calling you rude things, saying rude things. I had to avoid social media so I wouldn't get angry. But seeing that shit on my liveshow, it made me angry. I had to stand up for you. I really care.

"Charlotte, what I'm trying to say . . . you're one of my best friends," he says. He mumbles so quietly I can barely hear him. I know he's nervous because he keeps running his fingers through his hair every few seconds. "You're my best friend that is female, and . . . and I've known you for three years, and I know for a fact that we both are single and . . . God, I sound like a fucking idiot. I've liked you for almost three years. Like like-like. Will you be my girlfriend?"

I open my mouth and close it again, refusing to meet his brown eyes with my own. I'm trying to process this. Daniel James Howell, my best friend of three years and the YouTube celebrity with a couple million girls who would kill to meet him. He is asking me to go on a date with me. He likes me. Do I like him? I already know the answer.

Dan is my squishy bear friend. He has the cutest curly hobbit hair ever. I always find comfort in his hugs. He and I have done so many things together. Watched movies, just the two of us. Sing karaoke. Snuggled on a couch. I realize I do like him.

"Dan," I whisper. "I . . . "

"It's okay if you say no!" he quickly and awkwardly adds. His face, so desperate and sad, looks like that of a sad, begging puppy. I shut him up by hugging him, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"Shut up, Daniel Howell, you spork. Of course I'll be your girlfriend." I nuzzle my head in the crook of his neck and he wraps his arms around my shoulders.

Ae sit there, on a bench beneath a lamp post at the center of the park. Above us, the stars are twinkling, the moon is shining. On usual nights, I would point out the constellations to Dan or whoever is with me. But right now, I'm too lost in Dan's embrace to think about that. I feel like I've been holding on to a deep, dark secret and haven't even admitted it to myself until now. And now I have.

o.0.O.0.o

Dan and I end up going to the shops and buying milk and cereal. Halfway through the walk as we return to his flat, I realize we are holding hands. I don't say anything. I kind of like it this way. Our fingers intertwined and us, walking side by side on the street.

We take the stairs up and Dan opens the door with his keys. When we enter the flat, Phil is still in his room. Probably asleep. I check my phone, and the time is twelve seventeen. It's past midnight. God.

Dan places the bag of groceries on the kitchen counter and puts the milk in the fridge before leaning against the counter. He and I make sure to keep quiet because Phil is most likely to be sleeping.

"I'll head home now, Dan. Thank you for the lovely night," I say, waving before turning and heading toward the door. I hear Dan chuckle a bit behind me, causing me to turn around and glare at him. "What?"

"It's just that I thought you hate being out at a time like this, right?" he says, smirking and pushing himself off from the counter and walking toward me. "You can stay here tonight. Or every night, for that matter."

"Dan . . ." I say. "I stay here so often . . . I practically live here. But I have to head home. And even if I chose to sleep here tonight, I have nothing to wear to bed or tomorrow."

Dan shrugs. "I'll give you something. I know you're scared of going out on your own at night. Plus, I'd love it if you stayed." He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me into a tight hug, but it's slightly awkward because he's so tall.

"Okay, Daniel, I'll stay." I duck, slipping under his arms, and laugh. "Should I sleep on the couch tonight, or . . ."

"No!" Dan says, grinning his face off. His dimples are actually deeper than the Atlantic Ocean. "How about my bed?" He winks at me, and I stare at him. "Okay, sorry. That wink was a joke. Please do stay, but not sexually."

"Not sexually, Howell," I say facing him. His arms are crossed, but I untangle them and hold his hands in mine. They're surprisingly warm. Dan squeezes my hand. "Bed time," I whisper in his ear.

He pulls my by one hand to his room and closes the door behind us. He gives my his No-Face shirt, which I returned to him from that day a week ago. I change into it in the bathroom and come out. When I return to Dan's room, he is wearing a pair of boxers. I try to look anywhere but at him, but I hear him chuckle from across the room.

"Are you impressed?" he asks sarcastically, and I laugh a bit. He laughs too. Mostly because he actually looks really good. No matter how much he puts his own body down, he looks good. But you know the people who hate getting compliments because it makes them feel nice. Both Dan and I are those people. So I say nothing. He laughs anyway.

"What's that face?" he asks, and I swear I can hear his smirk.

"What face? There's no face."

"Your face. It's going a bit red around the cheeks. And you're smiling."

"Shut up, Howell." I try to keep myself from smiling, but it's impossible. "I'm not smiling. Your mum's smiling." He laughs.

Seconds later, were lying in bed beneath the covers, smiling face to face. I'm sure my smile is big. Dan's is enormous. His dimples are so prominent.

"Good night, Charlotte," he whispers, eyes slowly closing and his voice so low and soft like a bedtime song, meant to lull you to sleep.

"Good night, Dan." I'm instantly tired. I think we both are. But I can't fall asleep. Lying there in bed with Dan, I can only watch him sleep. His eyes are closed and he looks so calm. His brown hair is so much curler than usual.

When I finally feel my eyelids grow heavy, I feel Dan's fingertips brush against the back of my hand. Sleep finally overtakes me just as Dan weaves his fingers with mine. The warmth runs through my body, up to my head.