disclaimer: don't own dan or phil, nor do i own any social media references, music references, and whatever else you recognize. i do own my oc, abigail elizabeth woods :)
includes: uh-oh.
does not include: whoops.
happy new year! this is a solid 3-year story; let's finish it this year :P
Chapter 39: Happy (I Do)
Abi kneels to adjust the strap of her shoes as she hears Phil walk towards her. She smiles, looking up at Phil, who is offering her a trenchcoat.
"It gets cold at night," Phil says with a shrug. She gets off her knees and Phil helps her slip into the coat. She grins brightly at him as she buttons it over her yellow dress.
"Thank you," she says quietly, kissing his cheek. Phil blushes as Abi pulls back, pushing up her round, brown glasses.
"You be careful," Phil teases, "I heard Dan is the jealous type."
"Shut up," Abi giggles, quickly glancing at the full-length mirror beside her. She spins around slowly, almost self-consciously. Phil seems to pick up on it quickly.
"You look fine," Phil says. "Please stop spinning."
"I know, but this is, like...a date," Abi says shyly. Phil rolls his eyes.
"Oh for God's sake…"
"Phil, I'm being serious," Abi laughs. "This is...this is serious."
"Yes, because this isn't the first time you guys have expressed romantic feelings for each other," Phil retorted. "I am surprised you haven't called last night a 'date' yet."
Abi lightly swings her purse at his leg. "For the last time, Phil, we weren't having sex."
"Yeah, that's because I walked in."
"He was helping me fix my Tumblr theme!" Abi argues, keeping her eyes on the mirror instead, trying to slip stray hairs into her bun. "If anything, he was giving me advice. Plus he even proof-read my recent post."
"You know what they say about editing tips," Phil hums, sipping his coffee.
"Sod off," Abi giggles. She sneaks a peek at her phone, checking the time.
"Anyway, it's almost five to." Abi pecks Phil's cheek once more. "Said I would meet Dan at the park near the BBC building at like 3. You think I can make it if I run?"
"Not in those shoes," Phil says. "Just take the bus or something. BBC people always take a few years to wrap up meetings anyway."
"Noted," Abi says. She looks in the mirror for the last time. Phil throws his head back, groaning.
"For Christ's sake, Abi." He spins her around so that she is facing him. "Your natural jawline could cut me if I grabbed it. Your hair looks like it's made of silk. You look freakin' fabulous in yellow. I know you'd be blind without them, but please stop wearing contacts and wear your slightly-lower-prescription glasses because they make you seem heckin' beautiful. I could wrap my arms around you and feel so happy because you look so warm. And it's March. And we're in England. Yet you look so...warm. You look stunning, Abi."
Abi blinks.
"See?" Phil mumbles, looking down. "Did the mirror tell you that?"
She could see a blur of Striker trot across the living room into the kitchen. She blushes.
"God, Phil," she says, rubbing the back of her neck. "You...you know I am not wearing waterproof mascara, right?"
Phil smiles brightly. "Have a lovely date. The bus that goes past our street is leaving in two minutes."
Abi smiles back, and she rushes out the door with her purse in her hand. Phil watches the door close and sighs, sneaking a glance at himself in the mirror.
He spins around slowly, almost self-consciously.
He's wearing sweatpants that he hasn't washed in a while, and he's wearing his pugs sweater. His glasses were askew and he looked paler than normal.
Striker comes into view and stares at Phil too. As if a light switched on in his head, Phil straightened up and went to his phone.
"Why bother calling someone?" her voice whispers, as if silk in his ears. "No one would want to hang out with you anymore. Too much. You have too much."
Phil frowns — well that's new.
He picks up the phone anyway, and calls the first person his eye catches.
"PJ," he says, slipping the phone in between his ear and his shoulder, "do you want to come over for some pizza?"
Abi sits on the bench, tapping her foot anxiously. Sure, she knows Dan can't really stand her up, but there was a part of her brain scared that she wasn't even in front of the right BBC building…
A blur rushes past her, blowing her hair back. She blinks, surprised, before watching the person skid back to face her. She tiredly smiles upon seeing the familiar face.
"Holy crap, I am so sorry," Dan says, his words tumbling out. Abi smiles smugly, holding her head up high in a teasing manner. "I-I meant to call you, but the meeting and Holder—do you remember Holder?—and I...I did...I meant to, I—"
Abi grabs his hand to and kisses him. Dan blinks.
"Well that's not how people usually tell me to shut up," he murmurs when Abi pulls back. Abi notices the sarcasm in his voice.
"Bad meeting?" she asks, holding his hand as they made their way to the underground. Dan sighs.
"Not a bad one, just an annoying one," he answers. "They might as well should've said 'shut up.' I hate hearing Mr. Howell over and over again."
"Oh, such hardships you face," Abi teases. Dan rolls his eyes, wrapping his arm around her waist. As they stood by the platform, Abi let her head fall onto Dan's shoulder.
"Tonight, we can escape all of that," she whispers into his arm. Dan could feel her warm breath through his jacket and his own breath hitched.
The box felt more present in his jacket pocket.
an open box,
happy tears,
i do.
i—
"Do you even know what I just said?" Abi asks, snapping Dan out of his thoughts. He stares down at Abi's wide eyes and smiles shyly.
"No, sorry," he says. Abi sighs sympathetically.
"A lot on your mind?" She twirls Dan's tie in between her fingers. He blushes.
"Yeah, a bit," he responds. He shakes his hand. "But tonight is about us. I want tonight to be special — I promise I'll be a little more attentive."
Abi smiles, and when the train finally slows to a stop in front of them, they walk through the open doors hand in hand.
an open box.
eyes brighter than the diamonds.
i do, dan.
i—
"Do you want to sit down?" Abi asks, once more bringing Dan out of his mind. "I think there may be some seats in the back.
Dan nervously smiles. "I'm fine."
Abi frowns in response.
PJ comes not too long after Phil calls. Striker is seemingly happy to see him, racing around PJ until he picks Striker up in his arms, cradling him softly.
"He seems so big now — is that weird to say for a dog?" PJ asks, setting Striker down gently. Phil chuckles.
"I mean, you sound like my Aunt Maggie, but no, it's not weird. For you at least."
PJ smiles, heading over to the living room and grabbing a slice of pizza from the box on the coffee table as he sat down on the couch.
"So what brings me to your humble abode?" PJ asks through a mouthful of pizza. Phil shrugs, sitting on the chair opposite. He leans over to grab a slice as well.
"Felt...lonely, I guess," he says nonchalantly. "I don't think I've had much social interaction nowadays anyway. Not healthy. Wouldn't recommend it."
PJ nods sympathetically. "Anything in particular that you'd like to talk about?"
Phil sighs. "Not really, I don't think. It's just been a really...eventful couple of days. I think I'm just tired."
"It was exhausting, innit," PJ says, "the trial."
Phil gives a tired smile. "God, exhausting is an understatement. The whole thing just drained the life about of me."
"Have you talked to Abi or Dan about this?"
"Not really," Phil admits. "I mean, none of us have really 'talked' since the trial. Dan and Abi were mentally preparing for their date or whatever, so I didn't really want to interfere."
"Maybe you should all sit 'round and have a chat." PJ takes another bite out of the pizza. "You never know, it could help."
"I probably should." Phil stands up and goes towards the kitchen. "You want a beer or anything?"
"Just a Coke," PJ answers, "and I suggest you do the same."
Phil, two soda cans in his hand, grumbles as he returns, "You're no fun."
PJ smiles, taking the drink from Phil as he watched him sit back down.
"I figured that you would want a sober mind," PJ says. "I think the last thing we need is an emotionally-drunk Phil."
"Fair enough," Phil says. He meekly looks up at PJ. "Thanks for coming."
PJ nods. "Anytime, man. Just...just take care of yourself. I know things are indescribably hard right now but...but you're not alone."
He pauses, before hesitantly adding, "Have you considered therapy?"
"That's sort of been bouncing in my head for a while." Phil takes a long, tired sip. He swirls the drink lazily in his hand. "That would probably be for the best, innit."
"It wouldn't be horrible," PJ says. "I just think you'd benefit from talking to someone you weren't afraid of hurting. A therapist has this sort of...separate connection with you. Makes it easier, I hear."
"Did Dan put you up to this?" Phil teases. "Or better yet, did Abi?"
PJ leans back on his couch. "Advice out of my own pocket, my dude."
Phil sighs as Striker hops onto the couch and sits on his lap.
"I appreciate it, Peej," he says quietly. "I...I am really thankful for the advice."
"You deserve to be happy, Phil," PJ replies back seamlessly. "You out of all people I know deserve the best life ever given to a person. All you do is be kind to other people — try and be kind to yourself."
Her voice purrs in his head again. Phil closes his eyes, takes a breath, and smiles brightly at PJ.
"Noted," he says softly. "Thank you, PJ."
Silence passes before Phil puts his smile back on.
"Now do you want to play some Mario Kart?"
It's halfway through dinner—and halfway through Abi's salad—that Dan decides to put his plan to action.
a velvet box.
teary smiles.
yes.
i do.
i'm so happy.
"Abi?" She looks up at Dan.
"Yeah?"
Dan's leg begins to nervously bounce under the table. The velvet box is poking his side.
a velvet box.
teary smiles.
words.
"Can I be honest with you for a minute?" He nervously laughs, adding, "You know, it being a date and all."
"Of course," Abi says quietly. "Anything on your mind?"
"Death," Dan chuckles, "but what else is new?"
The joke didn't mean to come out as icy as Dan made it seem, but it catches Abi's concern regardless.
"Is everything alright?" she asks timidly. Dan gulps.
"I…"
words.
He takes a deep breath.
"It was absolutely horrifying," he starts, "being in a coma and all. Contrary to popular belief, you really can hear everything. And everyone."
Abi nervously taps against the table. "Dan…"
Dan grabs Abi's hands and holds them across the table. He leans forward.
"Being so far away from you was the scariest thing I ever went through," he admits, his hands slowly shaking. "I could hear you begging for me to wake up, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't. It was the worst, Abi, I didn't want to die."
"But you're alive now, Dan," she whispers, squeezing his hands. "You're alive now and that's all that matters. That...doesn't that make you happy?"
yes!
i do!
"What makes me happy is that I was given another chance to live." He draws his hand back and quietly palms the velvet box in his hand. "I was given a second chance — one that is rarely given out."
He stands up. Abi's eyes follow nervously.
"Dan?"
"I-I...I lost you, Abigail Woods," Dan stammers. Tears are rolling down his cheeks. "I don't ever want to lose you again. I can't do it. I've lost you almost twice now,"—He chuckles—"third time's the charm?"
Abi stumbles out of her chair at the same time as Dan falls to his one knee.
"I don't want to wait anymore." He pulls out the box and pops it open, wiping the tears with the back of his hand. "I don't want to lose you, Abi, I could make us so happy now that I'm here again."
Abi stares at Dan with wide eyes, nervous tears [shining brighter than the diamond] dripping down her cheeks as well.
"Abigail Elizabeth Woods," he sobs, "will you marry me?"
yes!
i do!
god, dan, i am so happy!
we're going to be so happy!
Abi feels as if the whole restaurant is staring at her. Dan is staring at her. She opens her mouth before bringing her hand to her mouth to shut it up. Her hand is trembling—it has to have been two hours by now—Dan is still staring.
Dan blinks.
dreams and ideas should not be the same thing.
"Dan, I…" She can't finish.
She trails off—a couple a few tables down sympathetically [disappointedly] sigh—and Dan's smile fades away in a mere second. Abi immediately steps back.
"Dan, wait, I—"
stupid,
stupid,
stupid.
Dan slowly stands up, pocketing the box once more, trapping the light that the diamond ring gave off inside that damned velvet box.
Abi doesn't say a word as Dan storms out of the restaurant. She doesn't say a word as she silently sits back down and accepts the bill from a sympathetic waiter.
She thinks that he is offering her a cake on the house.
She can't hear him.
i do.
i do.
i do.
would it have made you happy if i did?
reviews are my jam bro-ham :)