My Spirit Love (phan)

十二 - 𝓓𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓽

Phil's attendance at school the next day was futile when his mind couldn't spend a moment in absence of thought about Dan, and the way the breeze danced between them as their lips brushed the air the night before. His pencil pressed against the page, although he only wanted to write his spirit's name on the paper in his book countless times, until the lead would wear thin and fade away.

He wondered what his grandma would have said if he told her that he was hopelessly daydreaming about the boy with the once curly, brown hair and the everlasting bronze eyes. The teenage boy believed she might not have been surprised.

The night before, when their lips parted and the space flooded between the two of them again, they remained still. They were only inches apart, resting their heads against the pillows that were neatly placed on top of their shared bed. Fear grew on them, banning their eyes from meeting, although their stares never tore away from each other's faces. They didn't speak. Reminiscing on the night before, they both might have believed they shared thousands of words, however anything shared was through body language alone. The two boys were silent, but their minds were full of the one staring at them.

Neither of them had shared a kiss with another person on any other occasion, both of their mouths were unfamiliar to the sensation of someone on the same physical plane as them pressing their lips against their own. Phil had thought about it and briefly imagined sharing the night before with Dan if he was alive, although it was a passing thought because last night's kiss was worth more than anything else it could have been priced against. He only grew desperate for a way to hold Dan's hand, allowing their fingertips to dance between each other and remain clasped as they drifted into sleep. The spirit cursed his death for the same desire.

As Phil sat in the library over his lunch break, claiming to the teachers on duty that he was revising for his upcoming end of year examinations, he scanned his and Dan's shared blog, rereading the pages they'd uploaded as he checked the grammar on them and restructured the format to present more appealingly. They'd often discussed wishing they knew how many visitors they were receiving, causing Phil to decide he should add a subscription button where it would be displayed the number of people joining them, and would deliver friendly updates over email when they'd added to their feed. As the days passed by, their followers count would steadily increase, slowly opening up possibilities for them to persue, but for the moment it sat as a meaningless box against a screen.

As Phil trekked along the pavement back towards his home, he remembered the days he'd walked with his older brother a couple of minutes ahead, wanting to keep his distance as to not disturb the older teenager's reputation by being associated with the lonely kid. Those isolated walks home were empty of meaning now as his brother studied miles away from their hometown in a university, studying management. It sounded boring to the fifteen-year-old, although he never had the chance to express his opinion to Martyn himself.

Phil clicked his key into the lock as he kicked his shoes off to the side, taking himself up the stairs and throwing himself in his bedroom to see Dan resting with his shoulders against the window sill. He quietened his movements, hoping he'd not alerted the spirit of his presence as he inched across the room, resting his palms beside Dan on either side, standing behind him as he joined him watching their back garden.

Dan leant his head backwards, his fuzzy outline brushing against Phil's collar to acknowledge that he stood behind him, holding his thin frame between his arms as the air between them filled with the sound of their soft breaths. A part of Dan remained still, restricting himself from turning to glance at his best friend, because that meant confronting his feelings about him all over again. Although, that's what he'd been doing from sunrise to sunset anyway. It felt more real when Phil was there.