My Spirit Love (phan)

十三 - 𝓖𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓷 𝓚𝓲𝓼𝓼

It was Boxing Day 2005, the early Autumn was bringing humidity in the air and looming dark, grey clouds that were dragged over Britain. The rainfall had not yet started, but laid out above everyone's heads as a flood threat in the sky. Dan loved it. He felt invigorated and as though the energy inside him vibrated against the air around his form. He was able to feel Phil's touch stronger and more easily, and Phil could touch Dan as though he were made of cobwebs spun from the finest spiders.

The Lesters didn't do much in the way of Boxing Day, ceasing around the age of when Phil was twelve and the tension around his best friend struck the family apart. Guilt rippled through Dan on their 'family days', seeing a world without his existence where they'd gather around boardgames and laugh in unison, but Phil would remind him that they could still have had that, it wasn't Dan's fault the Lesters reacted badly, or at least his mother.

So, instead the two boys laid out in the open space of the garden, their backs pressed against the damp dirt with their legs crossed and bodies touching by their sides. Occasionally, Dan would flop his entire arm into Phil's chest, sending a pulse across the area they collided and cause Phil to shiver briefly before laughter set against their lips. It was a strange action, one normally not of foolish behaviour but one that said, "I can't get close enough to you, even if I shove my hand through your heart". Phil would occasionally do the same.

When small droplets of moisture began to fall from the clouds, they exchanged a look of agreement to head back inside to their bedroom to protect Phil from the rain. But they both hesitated, Phil pausing as he rested on his right elbow, leaning over Dan as they lovingly smiled to one another. Phil let a sigh escape his nose before he pressed his lips where Dan's were, the pleasant burn running along his throat before he pulled away.

What was between them remained unspoken. They loved each other more than simply being friends, and they felt a drive pulling them to want to touch at every possible moment. The same pull that brought their lips together on countless occasions throughout each day, even though they could barely feel the other at times. Phil believed it was similar to kissing someone when they when they were asleep. The other person wouldn't feel it, but just knowing they'd touched their lips against their loved one was enough for the one who was awake. It wasn't quite the same, but it was as close to familiarity as he had.

Despite this force pulling them to one another and the love they shared, they were still best friends. This meant more to them than the kisses they exchanged or the titles that came with that. They'd been best friends since they were seven and always would be, they were undeniably perfect for each other. This is who they were.

Katherine's hand shook against her mug as she placed the full cup against the counter, running her palms into her hair as her breathing became instantly staggered. She felt sick with guilt and frustration, her legs falling weak beneath her. She walked out of the kitchen into the connected lounge, taking a seat but still glancing the the back door, her eyes eventually setting on the rug in front of her that her toes were pressed into. As soon as she heard the door handle click, she gently uttered, "Phil, come here."

He exchanged a glance with Dan, finding it both unusual that she was addressing him, but also the tone in which she spoke. However, he moved forwards, standing opposite her crouched body, watching her as she sat upright again. She sighed, "Is the ghost here?" Phil nodded, "Can you ask him to leave?"

Phil turned behind him, making sure his mother couldn't see his lips at all. He wasn't facing Dan, but he took the hint to step over so he was where Phil was addressing his speech, "Why don't you ask him yourself?" he tested, not tearing his eyes away from his spirit.

"Phil," his mother spoke, "please."

Dan furrowed his eyebrows, but Phil mouthed a silent word, "Don't," he began, "It's fine, he's leaving."