Punk Pastels

Chapter two

(Phil's pov)
I watched Dan as he ran out of class, he was so adorable.I grabbed my stuff and walked out the doors of the school trying to catch up with Him.

I never really thought I'd like a boy, especially a boy named Dan Howell. We are complete opposites, but I've never done anything to Dan, I thought he was too fragile to hurt but others thought differently.

I turned the corner down my street to see Dan backed up against a wall by 3 boys, I recognized them from my English class.

"Awwww," one teased, "is the little fag gonna cry?"

Before I could stop it he hit Dan right in the stomach and Dan curled onto the concrete motionless.

"What the fuck, SAM!" I screamed

"Oh,hey Phil." Sam replied laughing, giving Dan another kick to the side. I couldn't help myself, I walked up to him and punched him right in the face. Blood starting pouring from his nose as he backed up.

"Awwww," I mocked "is the little faggot gonna CRY?"

"What the fuck Phil," sam screamed " I thought you were cool."

I gave him the death glare, one that could send chills down the Devils spine.

"RUN." I whispered to them.

They all scrambled away.
I picked up Dan and carried him to my house, my parents were never home so it was fine. I laid him on the couch, there wasn't much I could do except for keep him breathing.

I had to call a home nurse in and make sure his insides weren't jello. Or at least my anxiety needed to know. She assured me he would be fine and left me with a small bottle of drops. She said only one or two in his mouth every 15 minutes or so.

It was late now, almost 10:30, not a word from Dan's parents and it was a Friday. Strange. I looked at the couch, then at the stairs. After I thought about it, I picked up Dan and carried him upstairs to my room. I laid him down on my bed, it seemed more comfortable than the couch. I grabbed some things and headed down the stairs. The couch couldn't be that bad, right?