twisted (phan) || book #2

two

P H I L ' S  P OV

"Do you ever miss them?" I asked Dan, twisting the blade in my hand as the two of us lay in our dark hotel room. I looked out the window, glancing at the sign.

LONDON INN, the sign read.

"Who?" Dan asked me, his eyes glued to the ceiling.

"Our friends from the USA. The support group. Nyla, Bryony. . ."

"No," Dan replied, cutting me off. And I knew that was a lie. I knew this was all an act of his- pretending to be tough and careless when deep down he was lost and scared. "My mother is dead, and Nyla and Bryony probably are too. Me missing them isn't going to bring them back."

I scoffed, setting the blade back in my bag and washing the blood off my hands in the sink. "Yeah, but it's okay to-"

"I don't want to talk about this," He cut me off and sat up from our bed, his chestnut hair messy and his piercing still present in his septum. I opened my mouth to change the subject but froze at the distant sound of sirens.

"They called the cops," I murmured. "They must've tracked down the stolen car. . . c'mon, get your stuff." 

"Where are we going?" Dan questioned, standing up but obliging.

"Liverpool," I said, throwing the stuff into my backpack, shoving my blade into the side of my boot and my pistol in my belt.

"Yes but how? That's almost a four hour drive! We don't even have a car now." Dan whined.

"We'll take one from the parking lot. It's a hotel, you think not even one car would be unlocked?" Dan groaned in protest and I spoke again. "Wouldn't you rather spend a few hours in a stolen car than lifetime in a cell?" I snapped. "Actually, with the crimes we've committed, it'd be eternity of six feet underground in graves. We have no other choice." Dan exhaled.

"Fine."

He packed his stuff and we stared as red and blue lights reflected through our window. I opened up our window to see an escape ladder hanging out.

I looked at him to see him still packing. "Dan, come on. We have to go."

He pouted at me but left a few things behind, trudging up to me and climbing out the window and down the ladder. I went down after him and our feet hit the damp grass. Luckily it was past midnight so nobody was out, and it was dark.

Suddenly a cop appeared from the corner, a gun in his shaking hands. "Where are you two going in such a hurry?"

"A club. This is the hotel life, isn't it?" Phil tried. The officer didn't buy it, glaring.

"I'd like you to stay right there."

"And I'd like you to get out of the way," Phil started, taking out a tranquilizer and shooting the officer in the neck.

Dan and I made eye contact. "Let's go." He nodded, shoving his gun in his back pocket. We sprinted to the parking lot and hopped in the first unlocked car we found, starting up the engine and speeding off.

"Sit tight, this is gonna be a long car ride," I told him. He nodded sleepily, yawning and stretching his arms out.

Hours later we were still driving and I was falling asleep at the wheel, Dan snoring in the seat beside me. I thought about stopping at a hotel but I knew they'd be checking all hotels in London.

The only safe place to rest was in Liverpool, which was still an hour away. I stopped at a stop sign, checking the time to see it was almost four in the morning. I groaned, running my hands through my sweaty hair.

I continued driving until I saw a sign that woke me up.

LIVERPOOL STRAIGHT AHEAD. WELCOME!

I mentally applauded myself for making it this far without the cops finding us, and without falling asleep. I found a nearby hotel and parked, tapping Dan. "Baby, we're here. Grab your stuff, we're going inside."

Dan nodded sleepily, grabbing his stuff from the trunk and following me inside after putting on a new shirt. The man at the desk gave us strange looks but gave us a key, telling us our room number. We thanked him and took the elevator up, heading to our room. I unlocked the door and we unpacked, showering first then climbing into bed.

"Phil?" Dan mumbled. I kept my arm around his waist, his head nudged into my chest and his arm splayed lazily across my torso, our legs intertwined.

"Hm?"

"Do you think they miss us?" Dan asked me. I knew who he was referring to. His dad, my parents, Nyla, Patrick, and Bryony. For once, Dan was being real and sensitive, and I had to be careful about what I said when he opened up. If I said the wrong thing or too much, he'd close right back down.

We did leave without so much as a goodbye face-to-face. Bryony is the only one that knows why we ran. But she wouldn't tell a soul, because it would land her in a grave as well.

The rest of them? They're probably confused and alone. I hoped Nyla was doing okay now. And Patrick is still successful with helping the others at support group. And my parents.

Oh god, my parents. I miss them. I miss them so damn much. I miss their hugs, I miss their lectures no matter how much they pissed me off, I miss their kisses and I missed mom's cooking. I missed dad's jokes no matter how shitty they were. I missed my house. My real house, which was back in the US with my family, where I had my support group and my bed and my band posters, and my window which Wirrow and Bryony used to climb in.

I missed everybody back home. I knew they missed us too. But I couldn't tell Dan that. Dan was new to this, and I knew this was already breaking him. So I had to lie, for the sake of his feelings. I did what I had to do, just as I always have.

"No," I responded, exhaling while running my fingers through his hair. He sighed. "I don't think they do, Dan."

I just wished that was the truth.