Fake Number: A Phanfiction

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Yo sit back and enjoy the ride because this one was unexpectedly long for this book lol

I heard the door open as Dan entered my flat. I really wasn't in the mood to do much of anything. Dan's sadness has brought on something from my past. Something that I used to cry about every night, much like Dan is doing now. But it all just came back to me. Dan's sadness triggered mine. So, now I am all tucked up in my closet, sobbing and occasionally screaming. My knees are wet with tears. It brings me back to those days where I was at my lowest, when every bruise just meant that I had made it without opening skin. Where every tear symbolised how weak I was. When any little thing I did wrong resulted in pain.

"Phil? Phil, where are you?" He said. I could hear him shuffling around my flat and opening doors. Every step just pushed me closer over the edge. This used to be a sign of pain for me. Something that signaled my imminent beating for whatever I had done wrong this time. Whether it be I had done something wrong or he would use the excuse that I was hiding from him and had to be punished.

I could hear his steps getting closer to the closet, and every time his shoe collided with the floor, my breathing would quicken just a bit faster. But, just as I used to do, I bit down on my hand to muffle the noise. It would at least hurt less than what my future would be if he found me. The pain was worth it.

"Phil?" He said, his voice hoarse. He set his hand on the closet door, preparing to open it. My breath hitched as I heard the floor creak as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. I could just feel his gaze on the door. I saw his shadow from under the door, turning to face it. The floor creaked again as he crouched down to my level. He knocked on the door. I flinched.

"Phil?" He asked. He began to open the door, and I whimpered. He slowly opened it all the way, facing me to speak.

"Phil? Are you okay?" He asked. I could hear the hoarseness in his voice and saw the redness in his eyes. His face was stained with tears that I could just barely see the reflection of with the dim light that shown through the curtains. I had drawn them closed before I had my breakdown and crawled into the closet. He began to come closer, opening the door just enough for him to fit through. I inched away from his touch as he went to rest his hand on my knee, which was still soaked in tears. "Phil, speak to me. I want to help you."

"No, Dan. You have enough to worry about. Just--Don't touch me--Please." I managed to sputter out, hiding my head on my hands once again. Dan sighed and brought his knees up to his chest, resting his chin between them.

"You are all I have to worry about, Phil. You are all I have left. Both of my parents are gone. I want to take care of you," he whispered. He turned slowly and caressed my cheek. It was funny how I felt safe. Usually I would just flinch in a situation like this with anyone else. But Dan is different. I almost push into his touch as his fingertips linger around my face. His hand gently grasps my chin and he gently forces me to look up at him. "Now, Phil. Tell me what happened. I want to help you."

I looked down and his hand went away from my face and into his lap. I sighed and put my face back into my knees for a brief moment before looking back up at him.

"Dan, I was abused as a kid," I said, barely even a whisper. Immediately, he gently put my head on his shoulder and he held me. It was nice to be feeling some sort of comfort for once. I had always been the shoulder to cry. The person that anyone could come and rant to or cry to. But I've never had one person that openly held me and let me cry on their shoulder. I never had anyone to comfort me in my time of need. I was left to deal with my feelings on my own. I had no one. I guess helping other people helped me cope with my feelings as well, but I guess it was unhealthy how I was just bottling it up and not facing it. Instead I was helping other people with their problems.