arms // {phan}

chapter fifteen - dan

Chapter Fifteen - Dan:

Phil's face wasn't the first thing I wanted to see that morning. I didn't want to see him standing at my doorstep, wearing a thin, long sleeve black shirt, and classic black jeans with rips in the knees, nice black boots on his nervous, shuffling feet. I didn't want to see him looking rumpled but still beautiful.

I didn't want to see him, but then again I really, really, did.

I rubbed my eyes with one of my small, curled fists, to make sure I wasn't still dreaming. I hadn't seen him in days, so many that I'd almost begun to think that he'd left without saying "goodbye".

Everything lately had been as if I were underwater.

When Phil had called me, I'd been half asleep, groggy, and warm, from dreams of him with his arms around me. When he'd spoke, his voice choked and raspy as he muttered "I'm sorry" before hanging up, I'd sat frozen, suddenly very awake.

I couldn't ever tell you how in that moment I knew exactly what he was talking about and exactly what he was apologizing for, I just did. Maybe it was from all the nights we spent tracing the small, soft parts of each other underneath the sheets when our shirt rode up just so, or maybe it was from all the afternoons we fought until we were out of breath, or maybe it was all the quiet mornings we spent together munching on cereal, eyes flickering to one another.

All I could tell you was that when he hung up, I could feel every fragile thing in my box tumbling out of my heart, out of my chest, and out of my mouth.

I screamed, and screamed, and screamed, sobbing so hard, harder than when Aaron hurt me, even harder still when I found out he was dead.

My parents had come running in, cradling me in their arms until they knew it was no good. Until they knew that this time, I may have really broken.

I think I cried all night, til dawn and into the morning when the sun came to visit me, to check if I was okay, to no prevail, before it hid back behind the clouds.

I cried until the birds were woken by my sorrow, and sat on the telephone wires, gossiping and mourning my loss, heads hung, tucked to their chest.

I thought about Phil all that morning, laying in bed, rejecting my parents pleas for me to get up, nothing in my mind but Phil; he'd taken up every corner of my mind, and every corner of my heart. Every corner of everything I ever was or would be.

God, I really was a sap.

I thought about how I wouldn't be able to see his big blue eyes, the ones that reminded me of the sky I loved so dearly, both like a mood ring, colors ranging from blinding anger, to calm summers, and dark evening weddings.

Or you know, titles of candles you would buy at Bath & Body.

I thought about his dark hair, the kind that looked great and effortless on him but would take me hours to achieve. The kind I'd always longed and dreamt to run my fingers through but never got the chance.

So when I opened the door that morning, several days after Phil'd called, I didn't expect it to be him.

What are you doing here? I'd signed, too tired to be angry, all my energy having drained out through my tears and screams. Aren't you supposed to be-

"Leaving, yeah," he said, rubbing his hands together again like he was cold. He said the words devoid of his usual cocky attitude, now seeming like only a shell of himself, nothing like when he first stood up for me in math. He looked defeated, his eyes red around the edges and puffy, like he'd been crying- and everyone knew Phil Lester didn't cry. He had dark circles under his eyes too, reminding me of the time I punched him in the face.