quixotic. ↣ d.h.

xx: sleeves

it did not go unnoticed by zoe that dan kept tugging his left sleeve down over his hand. despite him being left-handed, he reached for his tea with a shaky right hand and took small, unsteady sips. his eyes kept flitting down to the stretched-out black sleeve of his jumper.

it was when they finally stood to leave that zoe figured out why.

"dan!" she exclaimed. she grabbed for his hand but he jerked it away, eyes widened in fright.

"it's nothing!" he insisted. dan tugged the sleeve down as far as he could and backed away from his friends.

"what was it?" phil questioned.

"dan, please. you can tell us anything."

"no," dan shook his head. "no, i can't. not this." he yanked his hood over his head and wound his way through the cluttered shop. the door slammed behind him.

"his hand..." zoe said brokenly. "there was an awful red gash across the top of it."

"maybe he fell or something," phil suggested. "he's always joking about how clumsy he is."

zoe shook her head numbly. phil constantly tried to imagine the best possible scenario, but sadly, that was seldom the case. the greatest parts of people were usually facades, and while she loved phil for never seeing people as they really were, his naivety was beginning to border on cluelessness.

"you didn't see it. it was deep. and a dark shade of violet. and he immediately freaked out when i saw it. he's hiding something."

"are you okay?" phil touched her shoulder gently. she was breathing hard, hands planted on the splintered wood of their table.

"i'm fine," she heaved. "i have to go to his house. now. he needs to get that cleaned out. and bandaged." her fragmented speech alarmed phil even more than the rapid rising and falling of her chest. zoe possessed a plethora of unique characteristics, but inarticulateness had never been one of them.

"i'll go with you," phil offered.

"no! he obviously doesn't want people to know about it."

phil already did know about it, but he didn't point that out. it was clear to him that there was some kind of deep-rooted bond between zoe and dan, even if they had not acknowledged it yet.

"sure, whatever you need to do." he smiled reassuringly and steered zoe toward the cafe door. when the frigid air hit her face, she took an enormous gulp of it, squeezed her hands into tight fists, and set off in the direction of the howell residence.

a/n: sorry it's been forever and this isn't even that long. last week was horrible for me, and i haven't had much motivation. anyway. please vote/comment/share and check out my other projects! i just started a new phil fic earlier this evening :)