Twitter ∞ Dan Howell

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I lay on my bed as Bess showered, scrolling through Twitter. The cool bedroom air clung to my damp skin - I'd opened a window a few minutes before to let some fresh air in. I hadn't changed, yet. I pulled the sheets up over my legs.

Bess came in a few minutes later, wrapped up in a towel, wet hair strung along the bare arches of her back. She glanced over her shoulder at me as she picked up the dress from the back of the chair. The towel dropped, settling around her feet. 

She turned to me, a smile flirting at her cheeks. 'Like what you see?'

I made a 'mhm' sound and pulled out a smile. She frowned, pulling on a loose shirt of mine from the floor. She crawled onto the bed, sitting next to me. 

'Hey, is everything alright?' She asked, rubbing a hand along my back. 'You seem a bit out of it.'

'Yeah, I'm fine,' I said, rolling over to face her. Her damp hair hung around her face. I couldn't tell her the real reason I was feeling so shit. She's about 5"8' with a smile that ate up half her face. 'Just a bit of a headache.'

She pouted a little. 'Do you want me to go grab you an aspirin?' I shook my head no and she stood reluctantly, going over to the piano where my hairdryer was sat next to. She crossed her legs in front of the mirror and started doing her hair, the sound of the hairdryer filling up the room. I went back to my phone.

A few minutes later, there was a soft knock at the door. I tugged my duvet up and called out, come in. Phil poked his head in. 

'I'm heading off to pick up Meg,' he said, a little awkwardly. 

I tried to ignore the sting. 'I like your shirt,' I said. 'It's a nice colour on you.'

Phil got excited. 'Thanks! It's super snazzy, right? Meg and I decided to go matching.'

I frowned. 'Matching?'

'Yeah! She's wearing a pink dress, so we're going to be matching.'

'Oh,' I said, and I couldn't help but sound a little bitter. 'Isn't that what couples do?'

Phil shrugged. He sounded defensive, which was unusual for Phil. 'No. Friends can match too.'

I made a click sound with my mouth. 'Okay. Well, we'll see you there, I guess.'

'Bye Phil,' Bess perked up. He waved at us before closing the door, silence settling over the room. I decided to stand, try and get my mind off things. 

I pulled out my moth shirt, but Bess pawed at my leg from where she was sitting. She stood up, tugging it from my hands. 

'You know I don't like that shirt,' she said, putting it back. She rummaged for a while before she pulled out another one, this new blue one she bought with me a while back. 'Here. This one's way nicer.'

I frowned. 'I love my moth shirt.'

'I know, I know, but this one looks so much better on you,' she insisted, holding it up against me. She looked up at down. 'Yeah. With those new white shoes especially.' 

I took the shirt and changed, and Bess beamed at me before turning away and changing into her own dress. After we'd dressed, she slipped her arm through mine, and we headed out to the party. 

It was already in full-swing by the time we got there. The BONCAs had wrapped up yesterday, and this was a kind of after-party-to-the-after-party. Because of this, some people were hungover from last night and were going for the 'Hair of the Dog' treatment.