Dan Howell
I watch from my car as PJ wraps his arms around Phil, the way his hands are rubbing up and down his spine occasionally travelling to his hair and the way Phil's face is buried in his chest, Phil's slender fingers holding onto his waist.
I don't like the way he's touching him. But there's absolutely nothing I can do about it. I sigh in frustration, running my hands through my fringe and rolling my windows down. I need some fucking air and I need a distraction.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as soon as I hit the acceleration pedal, and I am annoyed to the point where I can actually rip my hair out, when I see my mother's number flashing on the screen. I bite my tongue and answer the call, putting it on loudspeaker.
"Hello?"
"Why'd you call?" I say through my teeth. I really don't want to deal with her bullshit right now.
"That's not how you greet your mother, Dan. Anyways, how is my baby doing?"
"Brilliant," I don't hesitate to let my sarcasm seep in my tone.
"Dan," she sighs. "I just called to let you know that I might be gone for longer this time becau-"
"Do you really think I care?" I interrupt her.
Yes you do.
"Sweetie look-" I disconnect the call before she can say anything and speed up, letting the cool air whip around my face. I run my hands through my now tangled windblown hair, dialling Jack's number to know if there's a party tonight anywhere. I could use some free alcohol.
"Danny boy, what's up?" His voice is slurred and I instantly know that my plans for tonight are sorted.
"Where are you?"
"Jessica's,"
"Alright,"
"You coming mate?"
"Yeah,"
--
she's the tear in my heart
