Part thirty-eight

67.7K 2.7K 7.8K
                                    

Dan P.O.V.


I was starting to get homesick, but I couldn't go back yet. I was waiting for the right time - whatever that was - and then I would go. Something didn't feel quite right, like something wasn't completed yet and I felt like if I went back now I would mess it up, so steered clear and stayed in America. I knew it sounded crazy, but it was just gut instinct. 

Even if I could go back, I knew I wouldn't be able to because I hadn't made up my mind yet. My decision changed every five or so minutes, I just couldn't seem to settle on an answer. 

I hadn't been out since I last took a random walk around town, but some days later I decided to go out to the beach and soak up some sun. I didn't really remember the last time I had a proper conversation with someone, so whenever I ordered food in restaurants my voice would always be croaky and I felt totally out of practice when it came to speaking. 

I wasn't sure where the beach was, but I assumed that if I just kept walking I would reach it sooner or later. 

Soon enough after about a 20 minute walk, I reached the coast. I was thankful for my tanned skin because I just blended in here and no one would have assumed I was British unless they heard me talk which was quite unlikely. 

I lay down on the sand, using the back of my arm to protect my eyes against the sun's rays and let my mind wander aimlessly, not really keeping track of time because it seemed to pass so quickly here. Not that I needed to keep track of time anyway, no one was expecting me. 

Several hours passed and I couldn't work out if I had been thinking a lot or not at all. I sat up with my knees drawn up to my chest and gazed at the sight before me. 

And then it hit me. 

Without a second thought I got up and I ran back to the hotel, inwardly cursing my bad health and promising myself I would start going to gym. I packed my bags as fast as I could, making sure my passport was easy to reach and went down to reception to pay my bill. I cringed at the final price but smiled at the receptionist and walked back out, still breathless from my last mistake of running, and made my way to the airport, glad to be leaving the grotty hotel behind. 

I started shaking from nerves as I queued to buy the next ticket back to London, I knew exactly what I had to do now. 

Phil P.O.V. 


Two weeks.

It had been two weeks since I last saw Dan. I partly blamed Chris for practically kicking him out, but knew it wasn't really his fault, Dan really should've contacted me by now. 

I kept jumping to conclusions about what had happened to him and often went to Chris in tears, who reassured me by saying that he knew Dan was fine. I wasn't sure how he could know Dan was okay unless he had spoken to him, but I trusted Chris and knew he would tell me if he had heard from Dan. 

Two weeks felt like two years when you missed somebody. What happened didn't even matter anymore, I would just do anything to have Dan back. 

I finally found some strength in me to start doing things again, to start living. I had made a video and uploaded it. I decided to keep myself occupied by replying to comments, but avoided questions about Dan.

What could I say to the fans? That Dan ran off and I wasn't sure if he was ever coming back? That he left without a word and I hadn't heard from him? Nothing I would say would make it better, they were worried about Dan already since he hadn't posted anything anywhere. 

I was pulled out of my safe haven when I heard the front door open then close again.

"Chris?" I called out but I didn't hear a reply. I put my laptop to the side and got up and out the lounge and froze at the sight. 

It was Dan. 

Dan was back. 

"Phil?" I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. A weight was lifted off my shoulders and relief flooded through me along with adrenaline. 

"Dan? Where the hell have you been?! I thought you were dead! Couldn't you have called me? Anything? Do you have any idea how worried I've been?! I... I just-" and I broke down in tears. He was here. Dan. My Dan. Alive. 

He came over and I hugged him tightly, just glad he was safe, but he pulled away after a few moments. 

"What is it Dan?" 

"I... I..." He took a deep breath. "I've made a decision," I felt sick. I knew what he was on about. 

"And? Who is it?" 

"I'm sorry Phil." 

You're The Straw To My Berry (Phan)Where stories live. Discover now