WARNING: This chapter contains potential triggers, and is quite detailed. If you think this will upset you and cause you to hurt yourself, please don't read it. It is here for the purpose of the story only, I don't want anyone hurting themselves because of my silly fiction.

Dan didn't want Phil to go home. He wanted him to stay, he wanted him to fill that empty space in his bed, keep him warm in his arms, bury his face in his neck when he's asleep, like he had done every night that week. But Phil had to go home. His Dad was out working all day but Phil insisted he had to go home and catch up on his work.

"I'll miss you." Dan said quietly.

"It's only two days Dan, I'll see you in school!" Phil chuckled as he booped Dan's nose gently. Dan giggled and pulled Phil into a long, deep kiss.

"I'll look forward to then…" Dan leant his head against Phil's chest.

Phil stroked Dan's hair for a second and kissed the top of his head.
"Alright then," He said looking into Dan's soft brown eyes. "See you Dan, I love you!"

"I love you too, be careful Phil" He called as Phil walked out the door. It closed with a click, and silence. Dan was alone again.

Dan didn't have much family, only his Mum, who worked almost all day every day to pay for food and a warm home for her son. Dan didn't even know what she worked as. Dan tended to feel lonely a lot, especially on weekends. Before Phil, Dan had no friends as he was too shy or self-conscious to speak to anyone. He said a lot that he hated everything about himself.

The house remained silent. Dan stood, watching the door long after Phil had gone out of sight. He snapped out of his thoughts and went up to his bedroom and opened his laptop. He looked on his blog to see he had 2 new messages. He clicked on them swiftly.

"What's with the hair? I bet you listen to screamo and cut yourself. Emo lol."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you look like a really ugly lesbian? Sorry just had to put that across."

Dan looked at his 'selfie' pictures and started to agree with the anonymous, he looked at himself through the mirror opposite him to see his curly 'morning hair' which he now referred to as his 'hobbit hair'. He hated the way he looked, everything he saw in himself he thought was just wrong.

"Phil doesn't deserve me…" Dan croaked. He looked over to the other side of his desk. There, he saw a blade he had been using with his Stanley Knife. He stared at it for a moment. His breath shook as he breathed in slowly. He took in his hands slowly and played with it between his fingers. A sharp pain arose on his forefinger as he accidentally cut it with the blade. He stared at the red substance slowly emerging from his fingers. He started feel sick in his throat. He smudged the blood around his fingers and felt his eyes well up. He saw the blood on the silver blade, reflecting the light coming from his window.

He took the blade to his wrist slowly, and perched it gently on his soft sensitive skin. He dragged the blade across his skin slowly applying gentle pressure. A sudden searing pain swept across the line he drew with the sharp object. Small beads of blood grew from the thin, red line and trickled down his arm. He drew another, applying more pressure and feeling his arm go numb. He cut several more the pain easing and numbing. He looked at his neatly cut wrists and started to sob quietly.

He grew angry and slashed his sensitive arms fiercely going over the lines he had already cut. His hands started to shake and shiver. He stared at his broken skin. He rushed to the sink and tried to wash the blood away. But it kept leaking out. He scrubbed it with a flannel and wrapped it up tightly with a bandage, Phil's bandage he used. He took the rough fabric up to his face and wiped away his tears.

He collapsed on his bed, still weeping quietly. The pillow still smelt like Phil, and he buried his face into it, breathing his scent and pretending he was still there.

For what felt like hours he lay there motionless, staring blankly at the wall across from him. Slowly he felt his arms scab over and stick to the bandage. He hadn't eaten at all that day.