Philophobia

Chapter 11

Their next session together arrived too fast for either of the pair's liking.

Dan was petrified. His limbs were weak, hands shaky, eyes wide and red from staring at the bedroom ceiling until the birds began to chirp. His back hurt from sitting crouched up after waking up from dreams of his past. They didn't bring him joy anymore. They bought him sorrow. He wanted to be reunited with this friend so bad that everything around him reminded him of that friend. Even things normal people did like his sneezes where his hands would wave about frantically before. He hated this, there really was no worse feeling than loosing contact with a friend.

Especially when it felt as if they were in your grasping you touch. Especially if they were your counsellor. It wasn't obvious at first but the more hints Dan began to drop about his childhood friend the more he started to notice the man sat before him with a clipboard and stupid flowery bowtie was the the person he was pouring his heart out to.

Dan knew if he had simply confronted him the moment he noticed the slight limp in Phil's walk or the same smile that was arguably the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, Phil seemed to be the type of person to deny it.

And right now, Dan wasn't denying much.

Philophobia was an illness that kept him stuck inside, deluded his mind into deep 3am thoughts that he couldn't escape. An illness that only dug him deeper into his grave, pushed him back inside that little tent.

But instead of pulling him out of his comfort box, Phil had somehow managed to make it homely, not lead him out. He had moved into that tent and helped paint it with nice thoughts instead of horrible ones.

But all in the while, Phil's tent was left unattended, spiderwebs spinning from corner to corner, sides ripping apart as it crumbles.

But even if Dan were to accept that this was the person that he had been looking for, it still made a small part of him fill with anger and rage. It was confessing all your deep deep secrets to the only person you least wanted to know about them.

Because now, Phil knew it all. How he felt about the past, present and future. How almost every night as a young teen he would promise to never fall in love (if it does not exist, darling youuuuu are the only exception)

Just the thought that the one person who started and could end all that pain was sat before him with a silly little bowtie and messy black hair.

Infuriating.

**

Three Months Later

"Dan, it seems we're are nearly at the end of our course. Your improvement has been astounding. Your mood had been less miserable and more merry!" Phil chirped, resting his elbow on the table and resting his hand on his head. His head swayed to aside watching Dan with a look of adoration.

Dan felt his lips turn into a smile. "Thanks to you."

Phil sighed. "You won't need me anymore." He spoke in a softer voice.

"I always will." Dan blurted out, before clearing his throat and brushing off what he had just said.

Phil spun around in his chair, facing the ceiling. "What's been on your mind? You're happier but distant."

"I have to tell you something." Dan blurted out.

Phil nodded. "Go ahead."

"I know these dates aren't much of a self-satisfaction method but more of a work-driven goal." Dan said softly. His language in his writing had caught up to his speech over some time, through the help of slight speech therapy on pronunciation, he had always known what to say but the fear in how he would say them held him back.

"Work driven goal?" Phil asked, raising an eyebrow from under his small framed glasses.

"Through assiduity and whatever else you would like to call it."

"I'm sorry." Phil laughed in shock, sitting forward. "I wasn't aware you disliked me so much to go to the extent of accusing me of...of using you?"

"Work purposes I suppose. I know these dates aren't what you-"

"These dates have been something coming from me. I've risked my job and entire career on the line for treading on thin ice just for the small chance of getting to know you more. And not for my job."

"Then what for?" Dan stood up in rage, voice loud but starting to shake. "For me?"

"Dan!"

"Answer my question Phil!" Dan ran a hand through his own hair, sighing deeply trying to calm himself down."

"Dan, why are you so worked up? Just take a seat and try to-"

"I've spent over four months watching you listen to me talk about some deranged fantasy of something that could never come true." Dan said through gritted teeth as he began to feel tears form in his eyes.

Phil stood up, walking over and standing directly in front of the shaking boy. He placed a hand on the other male's shoulder. "Please explain to me what is going on? I thought you were getting better?"

"I thought so too! Until I realised how utterly oblivious and blind I really am!" Dan lashed out, taking a step backwards.

Phil took a step forward, continuing to edge closer until Dan could feel his back up against a wall. Now they were at a distance where he couldn't escape.

"You may of kept it hidden for a while, but when you start to let yourself go, stop hiding the limp, let your accent slip into your Northern routes, remake that goofy smile, I know." Dan's eyes locked with  Phil's. "You've left your tent and now I can see everything."

"Dan what are you on about?!" Phil shouted in frustration.

Dan's eyes narrowed through the blurriness of tears. "Damien Lawrence." He said through gritted teeth.

"You weren't supposed to know." Phil spoke breathlessly, dropping his arms.

Dan's eyes peered up and down Phil's face. In a quick motion, Dan grabbed Phil's arms, spinning them around and holding against the door taking advantage of his taller structure, aggressively pressing their lips together whilst pushing the other one's back up against the door.

Their lips locked and Dan could eventually feel the other male kiss back with just as much urgency which is when he pulled away.

Phil's pupil's were blown and lips red. His hair was messy matching Dan's, who still had tears filling his eyes.

"Dammit!" Dan screamed, aggressively pushing Phil out of the way and running out the door.

Phil's heart was pounding at an erratic pace as his fingers began to tremble, tracing over his lips.

xx