paper thin (phan)

f o u r

"What is it now, Howell?" Phil questioned, noticing how anxious Dan looked.

"I d-don't like crowds," Dan responded.

"Need to hold my hand again?"

Dan looked up at him in the corner of his eye then nodded, feeling Phil's fingers intertwine with his. Phil pulled him closer and Dan found himself leaning in, already feeling a bit safer.

"Where are we going?"

Phil giggled, Dan's state similar to a child's.

"It's a surprise."

Dan rolled his eyes but followed him, hoping and praying that a cop didn't notice they were ditching. Dan then noticed how familiar the scenery felt to him. The trees, the dirty pavement, the cafés.

And then the small coffee shop. That's it.

"The coffee shop?" Dan gasped, memories hitting him like the ongoing cars driving past them.

"The coffee shop," Phil nodded. "Remember? You came to me and told me that we were going to run away. No heads up, just a last-minute plan. And I couldn't say no after seeing your tear-streaked face and the fear in your eyes. That was the night you found out you were adopted. You. . ." He trailed off.

"I wanted to find my real parents," Dan finished, smiling to himself. "You told me you'd help me. Except I had my first anxiety attack one of the nights, and you said we h-had to go home before I would have another one."

"I just wanted to protect you," Phil told him.

Dan looked over at him. "I know. And I wish I-I understood that at the time."

They entered the cafe and found a table. "We sat down right here," Phil said. "We split pancakes and you tried coffee and we laughed about how much you hated it. And our first night we ended up having to stay in because the snowstorm blocked all the streets."

"And when the power went out we got a flashlight and made hand shadows and laughed all night," Dan found himself grinning. "I-"

"Can I help you?"

I miss that, Dan wanted to finish. But maybe it's better that he hadn't told Phil that.

They ordered and the awkward tension was back. Dan reached forward and huffed a breath over the glass window, using his finger to draw a sad face onto it. Phil noticed it, mimicking Dan but drawing a smiley face.

Dan opened his mouth to reply when the mug of hot chocolate was set in front of him.

Dan opened his mouth to sip his drink when he paused, looking at Phil. He was looking out the window, eyes glowing from the reflection of the sunlight. He looked content, his hair neat and clothes comfortable. But he looked sad. He looked utterly, but uncontrollably, sad.

Dan cleared his throat and Phil turned, flashing a smile.

"I d-didn't actually block you, you know," Dan spoke, trying to distract Phil from whatever he was upset about.

"So the memes worked?"

Dan rolled his eyes.

❦

"Why do you smoke?" Dan questioned, his feet dangling over the platform of the playground. Phil raised an eyebrow, cigarette loose between his pursed lips.

"Why do you drink?" Phil challenged, pulling out the cigarette to exhale.

"Touché," Dan responsed before leaning back down to look at the clouds.

"So you've never smoked?" Phil asked. Dan shook his head from the playground. Phil sat up from his swing. "Wanna try?"

Dan shrugged, nodding and reaching out his hand to grab the cigarette he was offering. He took a drag, instantly hacking and coughing. Phil giggled, watching in amusement.

"Aw, that is disgusting! How do you do that?"

"You get used to it," Phil responded, flopping down next to Dan. "My dad used to do it all the time and I was always getting mad at him for it. I'd steal them and hide them. Sometimes I'd even throw them away. But he never quit. So finally when he left, I wanted to know why. I figured that if I smoked too, I'd find out why he left us."

"And have you figured out why?"

"No," Phil breathed out, cigarette perched between his pointer and middle finger. "And I'm glad I didn't. I don't want to know anymore."

"Do you ever m-miss him?"

"I don't miss him. I miss having a father though. I miss not having to tell people that I didn't have a dad around. I miss not having to explain to people that my mom was too drunk to drop me off at their house. I miss not having to wonder what my family did to have my father just leave out of the blue like that. But things change, Howell. Things change."

"You're t-telling me," Dan whispered. "What does that look like to you?" He pointed to a cloud. A lopsided grin found its way onto Phil's lips.

"A boy. But not just any boy. He's very different. He thinks a lot, and he seems to be slipping away- he's changing but not even really meaning to. And the other clouds are moving just like him, but he's just a little far behind. And he's so tired of not being caught up, of not fitting in with the other clouds, but he is a cloud and clouds do not get to choose what shape they are."

Dan was speechless. Phil was still staring at the sky, but Dan was staring at something much more beautiful now. Phil.

"You don't stutter as much when you're with me," Phil pointed out, turning to finally face the brunette. "Why don't I scare you, Danny? Why aren't you avoiding me like everybody else does?"

"I am scared of you," Dan told him. "But I am also scared of myself, and you're the only person who understands that."

Phil exhaled then moved to lay on Dan's stomach, his head resting on top of his torso.

"You wanna know somethin', Howell?" Phil smiled, turning to look back up at the sky.

"Hm?"

"You scare me too."

And then Dan was the one that was grinning like an idiot.