Dan Howell And Phil Lester Xreader Short Stories/One Shots

Story 2: Just Knock

What if she hates me? What if all this time we've lived in this building and she never liked me all along? That would explain her never talking to me.

I pulled my hand back hesitantly right before my fist decided to knock.

What if she has a boyfriend or girlfriend or something? No, I've never seen anyone but her come in or out of here before, not that I was specifically watching or anything,that would be creepy, right?

I paced the hall a little and hoped she didn't open her door at this moment to see the akward tall guy down the hall just walking up and down the hall like an idiot.

I just like her, that's the whole reason I'm doing this, I somehow managed to gain the courage and I've gotten this far, why couldn't I just knock?

I never thought I'd be in this situation or doing this, but here I was.
I was beyond nervous.
I wouldn't know what to say if she did answer.

I returned the door and sighed.
I could just let it go, but who would do that? This was my one shot, I had pushed myself through my nervousness this far.

I gave the door a few knocks before my brain had time to stop me this time. I looked down at the little food and water dish by her door that she always left out for the cat that wondered in here that she had fed for the past few years.
I already knew she was so incredibly sweet and kind.

The door opened and when I saw her smile my nerves grew more tense.

"I'm Dan from across the hall," I began and I saw her smile get bigger as she looked at me.

"Oh hi!" She said happily. "I know who you are, I see you and your flatmate all the time." She had a really lovely voice and there was a sweet aroma coming from her flat that smelled as though she was baking something.

"There's something I wanted to tell you..." I told her making her tilt her head slightly in curiosity and confusion. "I found... the cat, uh, that you feed in the ally around back."

"Oh! You've seen Sausage? I haven't seen him all day. Where about did you see him in the ally?" She questioned.

"He's laying in the alley." I said with a pained look on my face as I watched hers go into a frozen shock. "I'm really sorry I-"

"A-are you sure it's him?" She asked.

"I'm sure." I responded.

She began to cry.

"Could you come in for a moment?" She asked through her tears.
I nodded and followed her into her flat and took the liberty of closing the door behind me.
"I'm sorry, I didn't want the whole building to hear and see me crying." She said as she cried a little harder in the comfort of her home.

Little did she know the neighbours probably heard it all the time from her, I did sometimes, even from across the hall. It was obvious she was dealing with depression, from the way she rarely left her flat, occasional crying, and the messy state she checked the post in. It made me feel bad, but I related and understood since I too dealt with depression along with a few other mild things as well.

"I'm sorry. I don't know if it was hit by a car or what. I didn't want to be the one to tell you, but you seem like such a nice person that I felt it would be wrong of me not to. You deserved to know." I told her and her crying turned to sobs.

"I had had him for four years, secretly letting him in on cold days and hiding him from the landlord. He was the only one I had, the only one there for me. I loved him so much." She cried.

"I understand. I know what it feels like to loose a pet. I know you feel like you've lost part of your family or a best friend and I'm sorry." I told her and then she suddenly wrapped her arms around me and clung to me and cried.
I also understood that she needed someone, and she didn't have her best friend to turn to now.

I wrapped my arms around her too and gently rubbed her back to try to calm her.

After a long moment she pulled away and tried to compose herself.

"I'm so sorry, you must think I'm mental crying on a stranger over a cat." She sniffled.

"No, no, not at all. I get it. My family dog died when I was a teenager and it messed me up for a while. I promise I understand. Listen, if you need my help with... with taking care of the body I'd be willing to help, you don't seem to have anyone else and I wouldn't want you to do all that by yourself right after losing him. If you want to see him or say goodbye you can, but I don't advise you do, it would only probably make it worse for you." I told her.

"I-I couldn't look at him like this, I just couldn't." She broke down again "If you would be willing to help me I would be so grateful, you can't even imagine." She said sadly.

"I'll take care of it then." I said.

"Thank you so much." She threw her arms around me again and began to cry into me once more.

I was sorry she lost her cat. I was sorry I couldn't bring myself to find something to talk to her about before this, but if I never would've killed her cat I problably wouldn't get the chance to hold her right now.