Phil's P.O.V
I hauled my body out of bed, I thought back to a few hours ago, I had talked for hours on end to PJ on the phone.
I sighed, hearing Dan open his door and groan, clearly in just as much pain as me from the overwhelming amount of alcohol we drank.
'Fuck' he muttered as I heard multiple ibuprofen spill across our kitchen floor. He was such a klutz.
I started to tremble slightly, my knees knocking together, I refused to go out there while Dan was out there.
Would he even speak to me? Would he get mad? Upset? Did he even remember?
Oh god help me it'd be amazing if he didn't remember.
I crawled back under my bed sheets. I needed those ibuprofen, my head started to pound as the room blurred slightly by my vision.
I clutched my head and sat up abruptly, tucking my knees to my chest.
I needed some ibuprofen now.
"Uh, Phil?" A voice barely a whisper came from where I guessed was the door.
I groaned back in response, couldn't he knock? He really had to see me like this? I looked disgusting, I hadn't even combed my hair and my eyes were red and swollen.
'I brought you some ibuprofen' he muttered walking towards the bed and placing down the bottle and a glass of water.
'Okay' I croaked, my vision clearing.
Dan stood beside me, his eyes printed on me full of regret and worry, he looked ready to cry, his skin was unnaturally pale and his lips slightly chapped.
His eyes looked back into mine, his eyes flicking from my eyes to my lips. Wait why was he looking at my lips?
Shit.
He let out a sigh and turned around, walking towards the door, and closing it behind him.
It was clear he remembered now, and I didn't know what to do, or say.
Dan's P.O.V
Phil didn't speak to me for the rest of the day, he would walk past me occasionally, but he never said a word, he just slept and then spoke to PJ on the phone.
Is this it? I didn't want to ignore Phil, but I couldn't talk to him. Not after last night. I knew he remembered.
'Kiss me Phil' the smile never left my face.
My heart started to race after moments of hesitation he leaned in, and I felt the warmth of his breath hit me, before his lips.
I tugged at a loose thread on my sweater.
For fucks sake. Why do I drink? No good ever comes from it.
That's a lie. Phil kissed you. That came from it.
I don't think it'll be the same, what about the radio show? And our videos, and our fans, and going out in public in general.
I need to say I'm sorry, that's the only thing you say when you lose someone.
