Not On Fire (Phan AU)

17 | floral and fading

Dan's always liked to think of himself as someone who is indifferent to it all, isolated, and without a care in the world. Except he knows that isn't the case. At least not when it comes to a few people: Louise and his parents (and well, possibly Phil but he really doesn't want to think about that right now). But that doesn't mean that he doesn't wish he could be indifferent, isolated, and without a care when it comes to them sometimes. Take right now, for example: in a few minutes, Louise is going to come over and he's going to have to listen to her act like she's never done anything wrong and it's all Dan's fault, which he can handle most of the time--and he does--but he knows he shouldn't have to. Which only makes it more complicated because even though he knows it, whenever he hangs out with her or talks to her, he caves for some unknown reason and forgets it all. It's not like she's his only friend anymore, hasn't been for a lot longer than he's been willing to admit.

     Of course, making up with her will have it's benefits. She's been his voice of reason--his conscience, if you will--for so long, and while he doesn't always listen to her (okay, he rarely does these days) it's nice to have someone there for him who will explain right from wrong, a concept he gets but easily forgets about.

    However, if he makes up with her, she'll just be as pushy as ever, never listening to what he has to say, always insisting she knows best. He's put up with that for too long and he's tired of it. That's what got them in this mess in the first place, but if he just says sorry without waiting for her to say it, it's all going to be a waste.

    He's sitting on the couch in the living room. His parent's are out shopping. He had begged to go with, something that had caught them off guard for approximately two seconds before they remembered that Louise was supposed to come over so they could "talk things out." It's times like these that he wishes he hadn't tried to rebuild their relationship. Before, he wouldn't have told them about his problems with Louise and he wouldn't have mentioned her coming over, no matter what the occasion.

    The sound of knocking cuts through the silence and his thoughts. He gets up, but hesitates right before he reaches the door, his hand outstretched and ready to grab the knob and twist. It would be so much easier if he just pushed this off or just forgot about it forever, but he's smart enough to know that, in the end, it wouldn't make him happy. Louise has been his friend for so long, and if he's willing to change, then he's sure she will be, too.

    With that in mind, he opens the door, putting on a small--hopefully welcoming--smile, somewhat wishing that it had the power to cut the tension that formed immediately after he opened the door.

    He's never been that good at talking to people, a product of him insisting that he interact with as few people as possible, but it's never been that bad with Louise before. In fact, he's not sure if there ever was a moment like this, even when they were first just becoming friends because of Louise's welcoming disposition.

    "Hi," he says, moving over to let her in. He closes the door behind her and watches for a second as she kicks off her shoes. Neither of them talk for a second, leaving the awkwardness in the room to reach new heights.

    "I'm really glad you decided to give Phil a chance. I knew you'd come around," Louise says, turning to flash a large smile at Dan before walking into the living room and taking a seat. "And I knew you would see that everything I do is for the best."

    Immediately, he feels like saying something, or rather, yelling something, but if there's ever been a time to practice self control, it's now.

    "Yeah . . . about that," he mumbles, taking a seat next to her. "Look, I'm glad that you pushed me to give Phil a chance--and then another and another and another. It's just, you aren't my mother and you don't get to boss me around. Fucking hell, my own mother doesn't even do that. The point is, I meant it when I blew up at you for always insisting that you know what's best for me. It's my own life and I should be able to live it how I want to. You're always asking me to change, and right now, I'm asking for you to do the same."