Writing About Blue Eyes -Phan-

Chapter 3

Dan's POV

I had decided to walk to the lake since it was Sunday, the one day I tried to take truly off. Even though I was mostly self employed, I was too much of a perfectionist and often had to force myself to take the one day off a week. But going to the lake had seemed like the perfect way to stay busy without actually writing. Besides, my writer's block still hadn't quite disappeared yet.

I normally only visited the lake during the later summer months, when it was warmer, and even then, there was rarely anyone there. That's why I had stripped down and jumped in without much thought.

But then I noticed the winking boy from yesterday, who was still ridiculously cute, and for some reason just leaving when I saw him drop something. Being a good citizen, I swam over and gave it back to him. Yet somehow it turned into talking and swimming and I definitely wasn't complaining. I had forgotten how nice it was to talk to someone more than a few sentences made for a specific purpose, though I did have a suspicion that Phil might just be particularly lovely to talk to.

As distracting as his looks might have been while at the lake, when it was much too early in our friendship to be caught staring again in places that might not have been so innocent, my writers block was gone completely by the time I got home. Enough for me to break my day off rule and write down everything before I could forget it and spiral back into questioning every word I put on paper.

After spending a couple days writing with new inspiration, I used up all my creativity and developed a completely nocturnal sleep cycle. As a result of this, I woke up past noon actually feeling in the mood to socialize. Maybe the months of avoiding as much human contact as I had in favor of writing were finally catching up. It was really only one human I wanted to talk to, though, and I didn't really have any contact information for him. Would it be creepy to assume he worked at the restaurant where he was unloading the car and just show up there? Probably. But he might as well get used to my sub-par social skills early on if we have any hope of being lasting friends. I'd just go to the restaurant to get a coffee. That way even if he wasn't there I would get something out of it, in the process hopefully avoiding looking like a complete stalker.

Even though I almost gave up on going outside while struggling to pull my skinny jeans on, (they seemed to get smaller every time I washed them) somehow I made it out the door. Walking the short distance to the restaurant gave me just enough time to question the whole plan, but not enough time to back out of it, and before I knew it I was walking through the door Phil had disappeared through a couple days ago.

"Hello," A cheerful women greeted, "Table for one?"

"Yeah," I smiled, trying not to think about how pathetic 'table for one' sounded, "Thanks."

The nice lady showed me to a table and took my order for coffee to start. I figured she must be Phil's mum; she smiled the same way he did.

I settled back, waiting for my drink, and hoped for a familiar face to appear. While I waited, I took out my journal and began to work on my story more. I was always jumping between journals and typing. I love the feeling of pen on paper and the look of hand written stories was oddly satisfying to me. Still, typing was so much faster so it was the chosen method when I needed to get everything down quickly and of course for final drafts. But when I was out I preferred my journal, it added to my writer aesthetic and made more sense than carrying around a laptop at all times.

"Dan?" I heard someone say from across the room.

"Phil," I smiled when I located said person. He set down the food he was carrying at someone else's table and made sure they had everything before walking over.