Misfit (Phan AU)

Chapter Twenty-Five

*Dan's POV*

Over the years, through my limited rations of interaction with other human beings, I've picked up on a few things regarding their actions (shocking, I know). Besides the more straightforward aspects of social interaction, there are a few under-the-radar consistencies that one might not pick up on if they didn't know any better.

Like how to tell when someone is faking thankfulness for a gift they weren't all that impressed by, how to read someone's level of interest in you right from the get-go by body language alone, and how to detect when someone is trying desperately to hide the way the way they're feeling from you.

You would think that I'd be an expert at noticing the last one, considering all I've ever done is perfect my own methods of bottling up and disposing of my emotions accordingly. But (very) recently it's been brought to my attention that I may not be as educated on the matter as I'd previously thought. Or perhaps more accurately, I'm far more knowledgeable on the subject of hiding emotions than even I could have ever realized.

To disguise the way you feel from all the people surrounding you isn't easy by any means. Even strangers are constantly prying and curious with every glance in your direction, but when you choose to let people into your life and they grow close enough to pick up on patterns in the way you act or refuse to act, it gets further complicated. Always having to be on your toes to make sure you won't utter the wrong line or pull the dead-giveaway expression all of your features are just itching to form, it's an attention-demanding process that has to haunt the forefront of your mind during any sort of interaction if you hope to keep up the act.

The problem is, the longer you manipulate others and try to warp the way you're truly feeling into something else entirely, the more you start to question what's real yourself. It doesn't help when people are constantly giving their input on the situation and trying to tell you things about your own emotions like you should already know it all. No, that only works to further drive you into the rut that you've made for yourself.

I've spent my life conditioning myself into the perfect little emotionless robot of sorts, leaving me now in my early adult years with no idea what it feels like to feel things, wholeheartedly at least. It sounds stupid, it probably should be as simple as it comes to everyone else, you feel happy and you are happy. It's not something to mull over or cause confusion, it's a natural acknowledgement that comes with total ease. Except it's not for me, and I don't know when or how it came to be that my own emotions became harder to distinguish than those of all the nameless faces around me.

It felt like all the control I'd worked years to harness so tightly was all of the sudden slipping through my fingers and pooling at my feet. I'd been so confident in myself and my decision to block out the rest of the world, but now that the world was tumbling in through the walls I'd built and it didn't even seem all that intimidating. I was lost. Second-guessing a lifetime worth of decisions is a little harrowing, as one might expect.

I wasn't sure if I was better or worse off to be facing all of the looming questions without distraction, whether it gave me more time to accurately consider everything or if the lack of disruption only worked to spin the ball of confusion into a further-tangled web. Either way, there was no denying that the apartment seemed to take on an oddly eerie vibe after the sun set when no one else was around to brighten the place up.

Okay, so I'm strictly speaking of when Phil wasn't around to brighten the place up, meaningless details.

Phil is a special case, I suppose, he's the first person I've met that achieves as much without it seeming forced or faked. It's not even something he tries actively to contribute to, it's just a natural sensation that envelopes you every second you're in his presence.