A/n:  This was meant to be a really quick fun oneshot that I finished in a couple hours but surprise, surprise, it's as long as a full-length Misfit chapter. It's cool though, I quite like how this one turned out so I hope you guys do as well! I'll also be posting this one on my tumblr (mangothatismelancholy) if you'd prefer read it there for some reason.

Genre: Fluff, angst

Word Count: 38k 

Summary: Set in early 2017, Dan grows insecure in the amount of time he and Phil spend together. Worried that the older man is missing out on life experiences because he's too preoccupied with the signature D&P branding, Dan tries to fix it the only way he knows how.

Warnings: None! It's literally just pining.

*Dan's POV*

It was an exhilarating feeling, to look down on the world below from a high altitude. Something about it just made you feel so much bigger than everything else. That family dragging their children away from the display windows with prominent scowls, that man cursing over a parking ticket, the constant whir of vehicles and machinery below; I was above it all, nothing could reach me up here.

Save for what I'd carried up with me, which consisted of near everything that I'd been wanting to escape in the first place.

If only it were that easy, to carry all of your worries out to the curb and turn your back on it all. No, the things that had been poisoning my mind as of recent weren't so easily detached, it seemed they'd been woven into my very being. Who would I even be if I weren't worrying constantly about the future and how it'll play out?

I was doing just that all over again now, despite the momentary relief I'd found looking out over the edge of the balcony, those traitorous thoughts had wormed their way back to the forefront of my mind. I shook my head, trying to manually will them away. To think about anything else, even just for an hour or two, that was more than I could dare to hope for.

"What's up?" I jumped, not expecting my wishes to be granted so soon.

I probably would have spun around and taken a moment to appreciate the form my distraction had come in, but as a soft hand settled at the base of my spine I realized exactly who to expect without ever having to look. No one else knew me near well enough to touch me so carelessly.

I smiled to myself, the first genuinely happy expression I'd worn since this evening had started. It was all I could do to keep from collapsing back into him, ignoring the fact he'd ever spoken and just saturating in the relief I felt in his presence. The only thing that I could ever hold above my own anxieties, right here in the flesh. "Dan?"

"Hm?" I hummed, forgetting what he'd asked me.

"Why are you standing out here all alone? You were the one that planned this entire party, don't you wanna participate?" I grimaced, turning to face the opposite direction from him entirely so he wouldn't catch on. The fact that he was asking at all meant he was already worried about me, I didn't want to give him any more reason to be.

"Do you want me to?" I offered quietly, carefully trailing my fingertips along the worn railing I'd been leaning against moments before.

"Is something wrong? You only ever answer my questions with more questions when you're trying to hide something."

And there it was, strike three. First had been the gentle cautious way he'd touched me, then the second had been that seemingly harmless question, and finally the third was a far more direct approach. He had a pattern in these things, though I doubted he realized the same way I did.

It'd be impossible not to pick up on the little things when he was the one who had comforted me through everything that had ever troubled me for going on eight years now.

"It sucks how well you know me, you know that?" I huffed in defeat, deciding it'd be futile to continue trying to brush it under the rug. He knew when I was upset, he could tell with a glance in my direction. I suppose that was both the curse and the blessing of having a best friend for so many years.

I turned to face him then, not even bothering to force a smile. We were beyond that stage of denial, he knew something was up and there was no use trying to sugarcoat it now.

Whether it was a bad mood brought on by a stubbed toe or a crippling downward spiral brought on by existential stress, he always approached it the same. Initially I'd found it a little belittling, that he could treat such different levels of stress the same way like neither held more severity. Now I just found it relieving, the familiarity behind it. I could be in the midst of a breakdown and he wouldn't look at me any different, wouldn't lose his calm.

He was consistent and balanced, the polar opposite from me.

Our eyes met and I suddenly felt bashful, blushing like mad as he studied me curiously and tried to read where my thoughts were at. This was stupid of me, to allow myself to make such a big deal out of this when it was supposed to be his day. I don't know how he tolerates me and the way I constantly find a way to make things about myself.

"Come here." He ordered suddenly, eyes incredibly soft but tone harsh. Not that I could blame him, I'd turned him away more times than I could count when he'd been trying to help me. He'd learnt to not take no for an answer anymore, knowing me better than myself when it came to these things. Say it as I might, there was hardly ever a time that I wanted to face things on my own.

I liked having him near, even if it was just a silent reassurance that he was by my side if I needed him.

I stumbled into his open arms, not even bothering to check if anyone was looking in our direction before I was burying my face into the collar of his shirt. He chuckled low in his throat at how eager I'd been, his arms wrapping around me for a tight hug. I clutched at the back of his shirt, grabbing fistfuls of the fabric to try and steady myself.

I would have been content to stay like that, stand there strewn together in silence for the remainder of the night, but he had other plans.

"Is it something you wanna talk about? Or should I just leave you to figure it out first?" He always asked me this, never stopped giving me options. He would always comfort me, but it was up to me whether I even wanted to let him know what it was he was doing it for. I didn't deserve the careful way he cared for me, I really didn't.

I debated not answering, considering that'd be an answer in itself, but for once it didn't feel right to swallow things down and pretend they weren't happening. Apparently this particular issue had been bothering me for too long, it'd run its course and I couldn't bite my tongue any longer. I wanted to tell him this time, I just wasn't sure how.

"Thirty is awfully old." I blurted, instantly regretting my choice of words. He just took to giggling though, shaking against me with laughter I'd managed to amuse him so.

"Thanks, Dan, I wasn't aware." The sarcasm in his tone was heavy, especially considering the fact we were currently standing surrounded by birthday decorations celebrating just what I'd pointed out. This was his party and he was spending it away from all the guests, occupying his time with the one person here that he'd have a chance to see on the daily.

I don't deserve him, but he definitely deserves to know what's going on when he's putting this much effort into trying to fix it.

"Doesn't it make you think about what you're doing with your life?" His spaced out chuckles died off at this question, the first tidbit of insight I'd given him into what had been bothering me for months now. I could appreciate the shift in approach, his tone calculated and cautious as he answered.

"Youtube doesn't seem to be at risk of dying anytime soon, I think I've got a pretty solid career for the time being."

"No, that's not what I mean." I drew a frustrated breath, ignoring the way he shivered as the warm air traced his neck.

I spoke on an exhale, rushing through the words and squeezing my eyes shut as I did so. It hurt to talk about, the words felt unbearably heavy on my tongue after holding them down for so long and suddenly I wasn't so sure that I wanted to share at all. "Don't you want a family someday?"

He stilled at that, a frozen stiff state that I'd never seen him in before. I furrowed my eyebrows together, gently peeling myself away from him and taking a step back to study his features. As usual, he was damn near impossible to read. Staying true to his role as the opposite of me, it's going on eight years and I can hardly ever tell how he feels about anything.

Slowly, he seemed to register the concern on my features, though he continued to remain stoic even as he addressed me with an answer.

"With you?" I blinked, trying in vain to process the words in a way that'd make sense following what I'd just said. What was he suggesting? We go out and adopt a couple little tykes just for the sake of some friendly banter?

"No!" I snapped, hardly noticing the way my tone had him flinching backward I was so upset. This was exactly what I was getting at, it's like he hasn't thought about the future whatsoever! He's so content to just accept things as they come yet he makes no difference to find change. Doesn't he realize we can't keep doing this forever?

I turned away from him, giving a dramatic series of hand gestures for emphasis. "We can't platonically raise kids together, Phil."

"Well, excuse me for not understanding your cryptic backwards way of asking things." He was back to normal now, like a record that had hit a skip he'd managed to stutter his way back through to a normal play time. If anything he sounded a little short with me. "What are you getting at, Dan?"

"How are you supposed to meet someone when we're together all the time?" He ran a hand through his hair, shrugging his shoulders at me and making it clear I'd done little to answer his question.

"Are you saying you don't want us to be together all the time?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying. I love you, you're my best friend and I could never tire of you." For a brief moment his features softened, a weak smile finding his lips. He looked like he was about to reply to this with a similar sentiment, but I'd already started to speak and couldn't stop now that the words I wanted to say were finally flowing. "I'm just worried you're gonna miss out on meeting someone important because I'll get in the way."

"Dan, that would never happen." He shook his head, like the thought alone was laughable.

"It's happening right now!" I argued, backing away when he attempted to pull me in for another hug. I didn't want to be comforted through this one, I wanted to be taken seriously. This was important, he had to at least consider what I was saying.

I pointed toward the building, raising my eyebrows at him. "There are tons of people in there that you might hit it off with and you're still out here, wasting your time with me."

"So what are you suggesting? We make a schedule of when we can spend time together and when we should be with other people?" He rolled his eyes, grabbing a drink off the railing that I hadn't even noticed settled beside him. He lifted it to take a quick sip, an imbalanced grin curling up one corner of his lips as he pulled it away and found me still speechless, gaping at him mindlessly.

I shook it off, groaning heavily in hopes of garnering his genuine attention.

"I'm being serious about this."

"I know you are." He responded in a singsong voice, only making me grow more annoyed. What was he doing!? Usually he was so level-headed and considerate when I vented to him about my problems, right now he was being unbelievably childish. It was like he was outright refusing to consider what he was doing with his life.

It must be the alcohol, he must have had more to drink before coming out here to me than I'd previously thought.

"Then wipe that stupid tipsy smirk off your face." I muttered, halfheartedly shoving him. If he was going to act childish then I'd just have to match it tenfold. He stumbled backward, though he was quicker to catch himself than I'd imagined he would be.

After finding his balance he looked back up at me with lips pursed, a playful chastising look adorning his features as he addressed me. He didn't say anything though, just stared so long that the expression itself faded away into a cryptic concentrated one.

"If you're serious about this I'm sure you've thought about what to do to fix it." He started, pausing as if at a loss for words. He took a moment to consider before continuing, voice as difficult to read as the distanced way he was staring at me. "So what do you suggest?

This was the part I'd been dreading.

I knew that it was a necessary part of opening up about this topic, that I couldn't get away with pouring my heart out in complaints and then not offer any suggestion on how to fix it. Phil was smart, he was caring and dependable, but he wasn't a psychic. He couldn't tell what I was thinking unless I said it, no matter how hard it was to speak the words.

I looked up from the ground I'd been studying at my feet, allowing myself a moment to saturate in his appearance prior to the moment I'd break the news to him. He looked warm, a soft flush dusting his pale cheeks and eyes bright with animated excitement toward the celebration. His hair was wind-swept and unkempt, a perfect contrast to the painstakingly ironed formal outfit he'd insisted on wearing.

He was so bright, so full of life that he seemed to broadcast light across everything he passed. The rest of the world had been dealt an unfair hand if they were expected to come even close to comparing to Phil Lester.

By some miracle, I managed to look him in the eyes as I said it.

I managed to stare directly into the sun as I snuffed out its light.

"I think, for a while, we should try getting separate apartments."

The silence that followed was killer, but I would have taken being deaf permanently gladly over the way I had to watch his face fall. It started with the smirk I'd been so offended by earlier faltering, making me instantly long for its return. The blush on his cheeks faded as the seconds ticked by and suddenly his usual pale complexion looked ghostly.

But what really killed me were his eyes, watching the open cheerful way he was staring at me recede into a sheltered empty gaze as he looked away.

"Oh."

"Just for a while!" I reiterated, my heart racing as I watched him close himself off. It was one thing trying to decipher what he was thinking at any given time, but when he was actually trying to hide it you would never be able to know. He was so good at it too, so good at locking his emotions away and switching them out for a falsified impression of another easier response.

It didn't seem to help, it was like he hadn't even registered what I'd added. I panicked, lurching forward to grab both of his hands and squeeze them harshly in mine. "Give it a month or two and if it doesn't do us any good we'll move right back in, pretend it never happened."

"And this will make you stop worrying about my future even more than your own?" I hadn't been expecting a response at all, let alone immediately. I gulped, watching him as he determinedly continued to watch the ground between us. He sounded like he was considering it at least, even if he was none too happy about it.

"Yes." I agreed, running my thumbs over the back of his hands in what I hoped would be a comforting gesture.

"You promise?" He challenged immediately, looking up at me through his lashes. His stare seemed icy, a cold barren interpretation of the way he would usually look at me. I didn't like it in the slightest and I was willing to agree to any manner of pleas if it meant returning to our usual way of things, but he was saying more before I even had the chance to give my oath. "If this doesn't work and in two months time I still feel the same, you'll allow me to figure out my own path?"

Something in his tone told me to genuinely consider what he was asking me to agree to, my mind running a million miles per second as I debated what I was agreeing to. This wasn't a trial period anymore, either it worked or it didn't and there'd be no trying again later on if I agreed to what he was asking.

Two months to decide whether Phil will spend the majority of his thirties with me the same way he had his twenties.

"Promise." And just like that, his demeanor changed on a dime. He straightened back up and pulled me closer by our interlocked fingers, our chests colliding with a dull thud.

"Fine, I'll try it," He sighed dramatically, feigning intense suffering toward the entire ordeal. I couldn't tell whether the sarcasm was in place to reassure me that there wasn't more to it or for his own sake, but I didn't allow myself to question it. He was smiling again, we were close again, and I'd finally found a light at the end of my anxious tunnel. The specifics didn't matter.

He pulled back and smirked down at me then, wiggling his eyebrows. "but only if you come inside out of the cold and let me get some alcohol into you."

I scoffed, squirming out of his grip and turning to go inside, only to feel his arm snake around my waist seconds later. I tried to seem annoyed as he yanked me closer to his side, though there really wasn't any question whether I'd prefer re-enter the party alone or with him directly in tow.

"Trying to get me drunk so you can make a move, Lester?" I teased, leaning into him as we walked across the balcony.

"No, I'm just hoping it'll be enough to make you stop with all the brooding. You're the biggest party pooper of all time when you get like this." He replied, tone equally as playful.

"Ass." I grumbled, despite knowing that he was right about that. I was hardly being a good host, even if this wasn't technically our residence but rather a rental house, it was still our party. It's not like I could expect Phil to do all of the host tasks when he was the one supposed to be celebrating.

I was running through a mental checklist of party essentials that I'd have to cater to when he suddenly yanked me closer to him, mumbling under his breath to clarify the action.

"Watch your step." I lifted my eyebrows, looking downward and noticing for the first time that the doorframe was a good foot higher than the level the balcony had been on. I hummed, fighting off a smile in response to his careful way of guiding me.

"I think I can manage walking on my own." I argued, trying to find it in me to actually feel insulted by the way he'd been babying me. I couldn't though, not really, not when I knew how much I really benefitted from having him around. Still, I'd have to prove during the upcoming weeks as he got ready to move that I was at least semi-capable of looking after myself or he'd never leave.

"True, but I don't want to let you go." He answered without missing a beat, using the same overly flirty manner that we'd been known for in the early years of our friendship. Most of our viewers and friends had always interpreted it as so much more, when in reality we were just comfortable enough in the fact that we didn't have feelings for each other that we could outright joke about the idea of it.

I mean, not that we'd ever really had the discussion to determine as much, but surely after nearly eight years one of us would have said something if we were being serious about the advances.

So I laughed it off, the same way I always did and always would, grabbing the drink out of his hand and taking a hearty chug of the disgustingly sweet cocktail.

"You're such a flirt when you're drunk, God."

--

I grit my teeth in concentration, carefully balancing my weight on the box as I worked to tape it closed. I thought my instructions not to overfill the boxes had been pretty clear, but apparently the message had gotten skewed somewhere between my lips and Phil's ears. How many movies did this idiot own?!

I looked up at the sound of shuffling to my right, smiling as I watched him hobble into the room, yet another overstocked box weighing his arms down toward the ground. He looked a bit like a gorilla if I was being honest and I couldn't help but to giggle, all of my progress to stuff the box shut instantly crumbling as my grip faltered. Not that it much mattered to me at that point, as moments later I was laughing so hard I could hardly see.

It didn't help that Phil had caught on to what had got me going and was now contributing some vaguely monkey-like noises to his awful swagger. I was outright cackling, so much so that I hardly registered that he'd gone silent until he was dropping his box on top of mine and giving me a light slap on the back.

I spluttered as I tried to get myself under control again, taking deep heaving breaths and purposely avoiding looking at him until I'd finally stopped laughing.

"Is this the last box?" I managed eventually, tapping the one he'd just set down. He hummed as if the question needed deep consideration, eventually giving me the verbal confirmation I was after. I suppose he could have been nodding his answer, but I still didn't feel ready to look up at him from where I sat on one of the many boxes surrounding our entryway.

"Yep, that's the last of them." I froze upon hearing him speak, the physically strained gravelly tone catching my attention despite myself. I cautiously risked a glance upward at that, hoping he wouldn't meet my gaze and question it. Thankfully, he was preoccupied with the task of chugging down water out of the plastic bottle I'd grabbed him at the store half an hour ago, drinking so hastily that he ended up with a couple faint trails tracing their way down the curve of his jaw.

I blushed, looking away as he finished drinking and wiped the excess off on his sleeve. Oblivious to my earlier surveillance entirely, he fell onto the box directly beside mine and let his head fall against my shoulder, giving a long drawn-out yawn as his eyes fell shut.

"And you haven't forgotten anything?" I questioned softly, letting my gaze dart to where he was now pretending to sleep against my side. He groaned in protest when I asked him the question, nuzzling into my neck with a quiet huff.

"My room is empty, go check." Apparently he hadn't taken the time to think about the logistics of what he'd just suggested, because when I started to stir beneath him he nearly fell off the box he was perched on in his rush to clutch my shoulder. I pried his hands off despite the petulant pout he wore, not even looking back at him as I started down the hall.

I peered into his room around the door, surprised to find that he'd been telling the truth. The only thing that remained was his bed and what was presumably an empty dresser. His new apartment had come fully furnished so he offered to leave the bed here, as a guest room of sorts for the time being.

For the first time it seemed to really settle that I would be living alone for the first time in my life, my eyes widening as I ducked into the room. I crossed the threshold in four long strides, gently clutching the footboard of the bed for support when my knees understandingly felt weak against the onslaught of memories we'd made in this room.

We'd filmed so many videos, discussed so many different ideas for our book and the corresponding tour that followed it, shared so many heart-to-heart talks that carried on into the early hours of the morning.

Now it was just an empty room.

Suddenly it didn't seem all that important that he'd packed everything, if anything I almost wanted him to leave something crucial behind so the room would stay his for the time being. I turned and quickly left the room, darting across the hall and into the washroom. Immediately I turned to the mirror, staring myself down and trying to ensure that there weren't any inconsistencies in my appearance.

Phil had seemingly agreed on a whim that night at his party, because nearly every day since he's very openly expressed his second thoughts toward the entire arrangement. He didn't want to leave, he didn't want me to be alone, he didn't want to meet anyone else and move on.

His arguments were constant and I had to be on my toes at all times to defend my choices and not give him more reason to hesitate. If he saw how upset and sentimental I'm getting about all of this he'd never want to step out the door.

Thankfully, there had yet to be any waterworks, my eyes completely dry and my appearance otherwise passable. I smiled into the mirror at myself, knowingly practicing the happy-go-lucky grin I'd have to force as I shoved him through the door and out of my life. Even if he was insistent that it'd only be temporary, something about this entire experience felt extremely permanent. I wasn't so sure that we'd ever come back to this period in our lives and the thought of bidding it goodbye was absolutely terrifying.

Eventually I deemed myself confident as I was going to get with the circumstances, opening one of the drawers to double-check for any lingering Phil belongings. Instantly I found some, gathering them up one by one and clutching them to my chest as I started on my way back to him.

I found his frame slumped haphazardly over the boxes from earlier in a position that couldn't have been comfortable. If anything it looked like he'd just allowed himself to fall forward after losing the support of my shoulder. I rolled my eyes, stepping forward and freeing one of my hands to reach down and tug at the mop of hair atop his head.

He jolted upright, glaring at me before spotting the materials in my arms.

"Bath bombs, deep conditioner, and hair dye." I listed off, dropping them onto his lap with an awkward fumbling sweep of my arms. He winced, gathering them up and settling them onto a separate box from the one he was sat on. He clicked his tongue as he finished, looking back up at me with a sneer.

"What am I gonna do without you around?" He cooed sarcastically, earning himself a shove as I leaned forward so our eyes were at the same level. He bounced back quickly, though after doing so he seemed to register a moment too late how much closer I'd gotten. He flushed, though he didn't move away, meeting my gaze directly.

"Suffer immensely." I answered loudly, the delayed response catching him off guard and causing him to jump all over again. I laughed, leaving him gaping after me as I pulled away and leaned against the staircase banister. He crossed his arms over his chest, sticking his tongue out at me.

"I'm already counting down the days until I can move back in and tell you how wrong you were about all of this."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"And you will, trust me." He didn't even hesitate as he said this, the complete and utter confidence he had in his words unsettling me. He was supposed to be giving this an earnest shot, supposed to at least pretend he wasn't already set on staying with me. It makes it harder on me, makes me want to rely on his words when I know I shouldn't.

He might meet someone, Dan. You have to entertain that possibility even when he refuses to.

"Do you want me to get the door for you?" I asked, the question coming out monotone and distant despite my efforts to remain the same. It was just difficult, to bounce back to my usual cheerful self when the reason for my happiness itself was on the brink of leaving. God, why had I thought this was a good idea?

I rose to my feet, hurriedly starting down the stairs to open the door despite not receiving an answer. He had lots of boxes to carry, surely he wouldn't refuse the offer when he obviously needed my help. He would let me open the door and he wouldn't question the way my voice had cracked when I tried to make the offer and- my train of thought was cut off as my hand settled over something that was very much not the doorknob.

I looked down, biting my lip when I noticed Phil's hand had already been settled where I'd been aiming to put mine. He must have rushed down the stairs after me whilst I was lost in thought to get here in time to stop me. Why is he so damn committed to putting me first?! He has emotions too, he has his own life separate from mine and it's cruel of me to keep expecting him to allow me to hinder it. "Phil, I-"

"Are you sure you want to do this?" His voice was a mere whisper, for once the emotion behind it on a crystal clear display. He sounded so uncertain, like he was truly at a loss as to whether to follow through with this or continue to fight against me. It was odd seeing him this way, especially when I could recall all of the times he'd led me through difficult situations without second guessing himself even once.

He was supposed to be the confident one, the constant in a sea of uncertainties.

Suddenly I was swamped with the desire to comfort him, to turn around and hug him to me, pretend all of this had just been one huge pathetic joke. He didn't really have to go, it's not like I wanted him to leave by any means. I'd just thought that it was what would be best for him, that he at least deserved the right to know if there was something better out there before he settled for me as second best.

Still, I couldn't find it in me to look at him, even as he continued to speak low and earnest somewhere near my ear. "I know you hate being alone, who will kill the big bugs and turn the lights off when you don't want to run down the hall in the dark?"

There it was. That was the push in the one direction that I'd been looking for, the sign that I was making the right choice after all.

Despite everything that was going on, even though it must all be affecting him severely, he's still thinking of me. That's not normal, friends aren't supposed to prioritize their friends like that. I get it, he's a nice guy, but at this point it's just being naive. He can't live the rest of his life tailoring it to what I want and what I need. I don't want that for him, he deserves the world, not a whiny younger best friend that's in constant need of support.

"I'm sure I'll manage." I dismissed his concerns without missing a beat, desperate to get his mind off of how I was feeling right now. This wasn't about me. "What about you, huh? Gonna remember to feed yourself at all when I'm not cooking for you?"

"I'll have to live off of delivery food." He sighed dramatically, thankfully taking a hint and dropping the more serious way he'd been interrogating me. I'd always had a passion for acting and I liked to believe that I was quite decent at it, but when it came to putting on masks around Phil he hardly had to bat an eye before I was willingly taking them off and confessing how I was really feeling.

He knew this, too. He knew that if he really wanted to know how I felt all he'd have to do was pry a little bit longer, persuade for just a minute more with those convincing smiles and soft eyes.

Likewise though, he knew just how defeated I'd feel after he'd gotten his way and I'd fessed up to things I wasn't yet ready to admit. So he allowed me to keep it under wraps, despite knowing it'd take next to nothing to figure me out if he really had an urge to.

I didn't realize he was speaking until he was already a couple words into the statement, tuning in a moment too late but listening aptly all the same. "-were up to me alone I wouldn't have packed a single box. Though if it means putting your mind at rest, I'm willing to take one for the team."

It didn't take much inferring to realize he'd been in the midst of describing his distaste toward the entire situation, especially considering he'd been doing nothing but since I'd introduced the topic. I rolled my eyes, finally turning to face him directly.

"I mean, it's not like it's final or anything. We can still visit each other."

"Definitely." He agreed as soon as the words had left my mouth, clearly relieved to have me meeting his gaze again. He'd already taken to studying me, carefully scrutinizing my expression and searching for any signs of unease. That's all it'd take for him to call the whole thing off, surely.

"It'll be nice not having to pick your socks off of every surface in the house." I teased, hoping to take his mind off things for just a moment. He didn't seem convinced by my expertise at changing the subject, the transition anything but smooth, but he cracked a smile anyway.

"You're gonna miss it, just wait and see."

"Pfft, sure." I shook my head, carefully tugging my hand out from beneath his. It wasn't any fault of his really, but it felt oddly bittersweet to be touching him right now. I guess it was just knowing that it wouldn't be an option in the upcoming weeks, not near as much anyway.

Though it could have more to do with the fact that I was practically lying to his face for the first time since meeting, purposely pushing the idea that I was looking forward to this despite how much it physically hurt to think about him leaving for good.

--

I rocked back and forth on my heels, impatiently waiting for the door in front of me to be answered. I'd knocked three times in rapid succession, surely he'd heard it. I ran a hand through my hair as the other clutched the bag I'd brought with me, frustration amounting when my fringe didn't immediately fall into place.

I was in the middle of trying to flatten out the particular cowlick that was bothering me when the door swung open, revealing a pair of wide familiar eyes and flushed cheeks.

"Hello?" Phil greeted before he even registered who was on the opposite side of the door, his composure settling slightly when he noticed it was only me. I grinned, surging forward and shoving the door open wide rather than just the slither of insight he'd allowed.

I barrelled into the apartment with the present bag held high, beaming at the growingly familiar surroundings. I'd spent the entire day prior helping him arrange everything, surely I had a pretty good understanding of the layout by now.

"Housewarming gifts!" I announced loudly, turning around as I heard the door click shut behind me. It just so happened to be that this was my first chance to see Phil in his full glory rather than the glimpse of his flustered face he'd allowed through the crack in the door. My jaw dropped, a bubbly laugh clawing its way up my throat and resulting in a hyena-like cackle. "Oh my god, were you naked?"

"Well!" He barked, clutching the towel around his waist closer to his frame. I couldn't bring myself to look away now that I'd noticed, my eyes filling with tears of amusement as I watched him desperately try to cover himself.

In our years living together we'd never been all that liberal about nudity in our shared apartment, it was rare to even see either of us shirtless without good reason to be. Maybe it was the after-effects of the year 2012, who knows, but something about it had just felt a lot more uncomfortable than seeing any of your other friends half-dressed would have.

His cheeks were tinted a bright shade of cherry red now, clearly not enjoying all the attention I was giving him at a time like this. He slowly backed toward the hallway leading away from me, keeping his back to the wall and making me wonder if the towel covered him as much of him as I'd previously thought. "It's not like anyone else is around anymore to have a problem with it."

"You're gross." I concluded dismissively, lifting my hands to cover my eyes and give him some peace of mind. I heard his answering sigh of relief, followed by the more lighthearted banter that came in the form of a verbal response.

"You're grosser!" He shouted, the sound of his retreating footsteps starting up immediately following. A lingering curiosity was settled low in the pit of my stomach and I didn't really allow myself to put much thought into it before I was splaying my fingers, allowing myself to look through the cracks between them.

An amused grin instantly returned to my face as I watched him dart around the corner, catching the briefest glimpse of exposed pale skin before he was out of sight. At that point there was no doubt in my mind that I was blushing the same way he had, though I still wore an inkling of a grin as I shuffled into his lounge and settled on the couch.

He returned minutes later clad in a mismatched ensemble of sweats and a dressy shirt, walking into the room and still working his way through the buttons adorning the top. He looked up from the task to address me though, smiling brightly. "So, what's this I hear about 'gifts'?"

"Come here." I gestured grandly around the entire seating area, but rather than taking me up on the offer he shuffled over and collapsed onto the couch directly beside me. Our sides were pressed together and one of his feet had somehow ended up laced between the two of mine, yet he showed no signs of discomfort whatsoever as he nestled into the seat.

I turned to glare at him, lifting an eyebrow. "There are three different chairs and couches in this room and you choose to sit half on top of me?"

"Missed you." He answered casually, like this was expected to be common knowledge. I suppose in a way it should have been, considering I'd spent the majority of the night prior awake and thinking of him, surely the feeling went two ways. It was just a lot to take in to have him outright admit to it like that, especially when I'd been so determined to hide my own feelings.

"I missed you too." I admitted softly, clearly less confident in the confession than he'd been. He just hummed in acknowledgement though, thankfully not getting hung up on the moment and making it any bigger of a deal than it had to be. Now that I knew he wasn't going to make a moment out of it I let myself relax a little more, letting my tense arm fall loosely around his shoulders. "I slept with all the lights in the apartment on last night."

"Dork." He snorted in amusement, dropping his head against my shoulder. Rather than lifting his gaze to address me he just lifted his hands into my line of view and snapped his fingers. "Alright, present me the presents."

"Pushy."

"You love it." He responded without missing a beat, sitting up and leaning forward to make a sweep for the gift bag sat on the opposite side of me. I smacked his hand away, giving him a nasty side glance as I carefully removed the two presents and placed them on my lap. Both perfect squares in their wrapping paper, though one was noticeably smaller.

"This is the first one I want you to open." I announced, grabbing the larger present and gingerly handing it to him. He eyed it curiously as he reached out to take it, only to change courses last second and grab the other gift with a mock interpretation of an evil cackle. "H-Hey! Not that one first!"

He wasn't listening to me, despite my now constant protests and attempts to pry it out of his grasp. He just turned away from me, squirming constantly as he giggled his way through unwrapping the paper. I sighed in defeat after he'd gotten it off, deciding it was a useless effort. The wooden chest was already in his hands and it'd only be a matter of seconds until he managed to undo the latch and see what was inside.

I found myself regretting the present now, wondering why I'd ever thought it was a good idea.

"What's this?" There it was, the question I'd been expecting now since the moment I'd set out to get this gift for him in the first place. The only difference between then and now being the clarity that came with looking at the decision in hindsight, the realization that there were so many better things I could have gotten for him. He'd probably been expecting something expensive and classy, like a nice shirt or some cologne, maybe a candle. Surely he wasn't expecting something so blatantly cheesy and sentimental as the- "Are these the first pinof questions?"

"You seemed a little, uh, upset that I wanted to keep the original paper... so I made you a copy." I rushed to justify my actions, blushing like mad as I stuttered through the explanation. How stupid can I be? Of course he doesn't want a shred of paper covered in old ink, it's not like it holds any substantial meaning to anyone but me and our hoards of shippers.

"Not quite the same." See, exactly as I predicted, he doesn't like it! Though, where there should have been a relieved sense of 'I told you so' having guessed how he'd react, instead there was only a dull feeling of dejection that made me sick to my stomach. Why am I bothered by something I could have seen coming a mile away?

"Oh."

"I appreciate it though, Dan, I really do." He clarified, settling a hand on my thigh and giving it what was likely meant to be a reassuring squeeze. I nodded solemnly, unable to shake the feeling of hurt with so little comfort following. Then again, if I claimed to know him so well really I should have seen it coming when he diligently continued and made a point to make sure I was okay.

He shrugged my arm from his shoulders only to tug my hand into the limited space between our bodies and thread his fingers through mine, touch soft and fleeting like it might vanish at any moment if I could find the will to ask it to. "I'm the type to appreciate memories themselves more than the keepsakes, so it's for the best that you kept the original. As long as I get to keep you around then I have everything I'll ever need."

"You're so lame." I muttered quietly, stubbornly turning my head in the opposite direction to hide my blush. I practically threw the other gift at him, using only the hand that wasn't sheltered in one of his warmer ones. "Well, here's the other thing I bought you."

"Thanks." He chuckled, the sound of paper ripping following my offering. I bit my lip, teeth digging into soft flesh as I waited on a review from him. He was utterly silent, to the point that I found myself daring to look toward him with wide eyes. He met my gaze immediately, only to glance down at the matching set of dishes that he'd just opened.

I lifted an eyebrow, willing him to explain his thoughts. He clicked his tongue, falling back against the cushions behind him with a gentle chastising sigh. "You realize that when I move back in we're not gonna have near enough room to keep all this in the kitchen?"

"This isn't gonna work if you're set on moving back in the entire time. You have to at least give it a fair shot." I spoke in a monotone voice, the words long ago having lost any meaning I'd repeated them so many times. It seemed the amount of times I could correct Phil on this in the run of just one day was near endless. He was painstakingly stubborn it seemed, because he refused to even try listening to me no matter how many times I asked him to.

"Fine." He said this like he planned on listening, but having heard this form of 'agreement' many times before I knew it was only a matter of time until he'd go back to talking about our future. It was like he'd been programmed to only imagine scenarios that included the two of us, like the amount of years we'd spent together had become so standard anything else seemed unbelievably foreign.

It was infuriating.

I watched lazily as he shifted free of my hold, giving my hand a final squeeze before dropping it onto the couch unceremoniously and started out of the room. I wasn't planning on following him, having been working diligently to form a Dan-shaped crease into the rental couch, but all it took was a lingering gaze and a questioning nod to ask whether I'd be joining him before I was dutifully trailing along behind Phil into the kitchen.

"I've been thinking."

"How rare."

"Shut-up." He quipped as we entered the kitchen, spinning around to face me and block the doorway. I rolled my eyes, placing my hands over either one of his on the frame and leaning forward to lock eyes with him and lift an expectant eyebrow.

Realizing my silent query he smiled, kicking his foot gently against mine. "I've been thinking that you are getting a higher bargain out of this arrangement than I am."

"What?" I blurted, taken aback by this comment as I stumbled back a step. Seemingly pleased with this reaction, he turned again to shuffle over to his cupboards and start rifling through them.

"Well, if it works and I meet someone then you get your way, but if it doesn't work all I get is the same thing I had going into this." I crossed my arms over my chest, already in disbelief over the nonsense he was spewing. Why was he making me out to be the bad guy here? He's making it sound like this was solely an experiment for my own sake, surely he realizes I did it all with him in mind. "There's no way for me to come ahead."

"We're literally doing this so you can meet someone to spend the rest of your life with!"

"Shh, hear me out." He dismissed my outburst without even glancing in my direction, standing back up straight after retrieving the package of cookies he'd been searching for. He paced across the room and held the treats out to me in a silent offering, but something about the scheming tone he'd used had put me off the idea of food altogether. What was he up to now?

He seemed to clue in to the fact that I was suspecting something, sighing and tossing the cookies onto the table indifferently. He placed a hand on my arm, offering what looked like an apologetic smile even before he'd said anything.

The worst was watching him struggle to come out and say it, something he hardly ever did. He was usually so upfront with me about everything, he was the one who knew how to say the difficult things when they needed to be said. Seeing him stumbling through the process now only made me grow more anxious.

Finally he took a deep steadying breath, the hand on my arm gripping tighter as he mustered the needed courage to speak. "If this doesn't work, if in two months time I'm still single and still determined to stay with you, I want to use the money I've been saving up to buy a house together."

"Phil." I whined, a long drawn-out mewl of sorts because I simply didn't know how else to react to something like that. There wasn't a trace of sarcasm to be detected in the suggestion, nor in the expression he wore following it. He looked so vulnerable, despite meeting my gaze something in his eyes made it clear just how invested he was in hearing my answer.

Deciding that I'd gone too long without responding any further, he took to explaining himself, hand still clutching my arm like he couldn't feel how much hotter my skin had run where he was touching it.

"I'll give it an earnest shot, I promise. I'll even sign up to some of those stupid dating apps and start going out to meet people." He was moving closer as he spoke and without really understanding why, I was taking steps further away, determined to keep space between us. My heart was racing and my skin was burning and I wanted nothing to do with this conversation.

Yet I wasn't leaving, wasn't changing the subject like I normally would when something made me feel uncomfortable. Phil would understand, he always did, it was as simple as a panicked look and he would stop talking about the things that bothered me.

I didn't want to hear him say those things, but I didn't want him to stop either.

He stopped advancing after noticing the careful way I was retreating, scratching the back of his neck in confusion before clearing his throat and shrugging it off to continue speaking. "And, if in five years time when you're thirty you want to move out and see if there's something better out there for you just like I am right now, you're welcome to. But until then, I want my fair shot at what's best for me."

"You're not supposed to say it like that!" I shouted, hardly caring how the rest of the apartment complex would interpret the outburst.

"Like what?"

"Like you've already made up your mind!" I snapped, turning away when a sinking realization hit me that my eyes were starting to sting. I'm not about to cry in front of him, especially not over something as stupid as the likes of this. How strange would that make me look? To be so upset over the fact he wanted to stay with me?

It didn't make sense, not really. I'd been so determined to make him reconsider I hadn't even stopped to think about what was urging me to so desperately.

I stepped forward, pounding my fists toward him only for them to slow in the last second and hit him so gentle his only reaction was to give a quiet sympathetic sigh. I stumbled forward then, blinking away the insistent saltwater in my eyes as I shoved my face into his chest, determined not to let him see me cry over something so irrelevant. "You don't know what's best for you yet, so please, please stop being so stubborn."

He doesn't know what's best for him yet because all he's ever known is settling for less than. He deserves a fair shot at something better than me, someone better than me. I'm not going to stand by and watch him flush his future down the toilet because he's determined to keep it tied to mine.

"Sorry." I winced, the words of apology doing little to make me feel better. If anything it was worse, being forced to hear clearly just how much I'd hurt him with the rejection. I know that he deserves better, but if he doesn't and he refuses to consider there's anything better out there for him, it's not like I can force him to be happy with someone else. "I'm sorry, Dan, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I just figured you would, I didn't realize you were this against the idea of living together any longer. We can pretend I never said anything and-"

"Fine."

"Fine?" He questioned, hands settling ghostly light against my back. I nodded into the collar of his shirt, slowly lifting my head and praying my eyes weren't really as puffy as they felt. I met his gaze, gulping as second thoughts already started to form even as I made the decision.

"I'll do it, in two months. I'll get a house with you." I deadpanned, any sense of emotion absent from the words. It wasn't a precautionary method on my part though, I was just uncertain how I felt. I knew how I wanted to feel, I wanted to feel miserable, like the shitty friend I was should. He deserved so much better than spending the rest of his life with a platonic friend that could only give him so much, yet I was oh so selfishly agreeing to it. What kind of friend willingly lets you settle for second best?

I sighed, looking away from him and toward the tiled flooring. "Give this a fair shot first though, I'm serious."

"I'll line up dates every night of the week if that's what it takes!" He beamed triumphantly, clearly overjoyed as he pulled me back to him in a hug so tight I feared my lungs would crush. I gulped for air, resisting the urge to laugh before the reality of his words set in.

Suddenly the amusement left my features, replaced by a desolate barren expression.

"If that's what it takes to do what, Phil, what are you trying to do?" I asked quietly, squirming free of his grasp and taking a step backward. "Are you trying to meet someone or trying to prove to me you won't meet someone?"

"I don't know."

"Right." I chuckled, shaking my head. I hadn't just agreed to be the back-up plan, I'd willingly allowed him to start prioritizing me all over again. Is he even gonna try now that he knows I'm the consolation prize and it's so much easier to settle than put himself out there?

I grit my teeth, turning toward the door with hands shoved into my pockets. "I'm gonna go, I'll leave you to your naked shenanigans."

"Dan." His voice was strained, like he was the one who had just had a ton of self-loathing dropped onto his shoulders. I looked over my shoulder at him with a forced smile, ignoring the way my bottom lip quivered in protest as I forced it to stretch into a positive pose.

"I expect to proof-read some dating profiles for you tonight, got it?" My tone was lighthearted, but the question itself was not. It was very easy to read the unspoken threat that lingered beneath the words, the subtle warning that I was still expecting more out of him.

"Yeah, I got it."

--

I was in the middle of running a bath when my phone rang from somewhere in the other room, my breath catching in my throat as I instantly scrambled to turn the taps. It wasn't exactly a task one was supposed to leave abruptly, especially considering I hardly managed to turn the water off all the way before I was darting from the room, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

There were very few people that called me on the regular, even less that would be calling me nearing midnight on a Tuesday night, so there really wasn't any question who would be on the other end of the line. It'd become a bit of a routine, the way he'd call me up after every date he went on to report back like some kind of undercover spy.

At first I'd been determined to convince him it wasn't necessary, that he could keep the details of his private life just that, private. I'd since stopped saying that though, over the course of the past two weeks growing attached to the constant updates. I liked being in the loop, liked the constant reminder that he hadn't forgotten about me despite the fact we were now living separate lives.

"So? How did it go?" I answered breathlessly, not even bothering with greetings. I could just imagine the raised eyebrow and implicative smirk he'd be wearing after hearing my panting to catch my breath, but I decided he didn't deserve an explanation even if he were to ask.

"The first question she asked was how many kids I wanted."

"And?" I continued to pry, falling onto my bed with a smile. "What'd you say?"

"I said I haven't really thought about it much."

"Liar, you've told me thousands of times that you want four." I rolled my eyes, hardly having to think about it for a second the information came so easily. "You used to say that ideally you wanted two boys and two girls, but in the last couple years you've changed your mind and started saying you'd be happy with any gender and love them all exactly the same."

There was a considerable pause that followed my rambling, making me think back on what I'd said and wonder if it was all that appropriate. Maybe he'd said those things without thinking it through, maybe circumstances had changed and with them so had his decision. There's a chance I'm bothering him by calling out the lie.

"Well, it's a little different sharing those things with you than it is with a complete stranger."

"Phil, what'd I say about giving them a fair shot? You can't just strike them all out because they're not me!" I snapped, any of the guilt I'd been feeling earlier completely absent from my voice. He'd promised me that he would start taking this seriously, why is it that he's still comparing them all to me? I don't get it.

It was when he fell silent yet again that I realized what I'd just implied, my eyes going wide as I foolishly managed to choke on my own saliva when the understanding hit me. "I mean, n-not to say that you think about me in that way either, but just because your relationship with them isn't as developed as the one we have isn't to say it won't be eventually, you know? Like, if you give them the chance to get to know you and-"

"Do you wanna come over?" His tone was hopeful. I furrowed my brows together, slowly catching up with the sudden shift in conversation. Talk about a rapid subject change, he hadn't even allowed me to finish.

"Huh?"

"Wanna come over? I ordered pizza but I think it might have been too much for one person." He took the time to explain the offer this time around, like my hesitation was out of a need to be convinced rather than confusion as to what was going on.

I debated my response carefully, remembering all too clearly just how well our last visit together had gone. Despite being in near constant contact through technology I'd been purposely avoiding seeing him in person again. It was one thing arguing with him like this, when I couldn't watch the pained reactions to my every word, but in person it all felt a bit too real.

I sighed, running a hand through my unwashed hair and shrugging.

"Did you get pineapple on it?"

"Only half." He answered immediately, the same way he always had whenever I'd ask this question. He sounded just as proud of his own loyalty now as he had back then, except deep down I knew it wasn't near as warranted.

"Right, because when I order pizza for myself I totally tailor it to what my ex-roommate likes and not what I like." I muttered, the specific order making it clear that he'd never had any intention to eat the meal alone in the first place.

"Force of habit." He dismissed quickly, registering that I'd caught on to his play. I shook my head, a fond smile sneaking across my lips before I had the chance to ward it away. It was always like this when we talked on the phone, I could hardly keep my expression blank if my life depended on it.

I could probably excuse it as just being more lenient about my reactions knowing he wouldn't be aware of them, but if I wanted to be really honest it probably had a lot more to do with the way it reminded me of how we'd met. Back when there had been endless miles between us and seeing each other in person hadn't been an option, this had been our only method of communication. It was rare to find a moment where we weren't wrapped up in the middle of a phone call or a skype call with one another. It wasn't easy, but we'd made it work.

Damn it, how am I supposed to turn him down now that I've gone off on yet another reminiscent tangent? It makes me feel sentimental, like I shouldn't take a moment with him for granted now that they're an option.

"Yeah, I'm not doing anything, just let me get dressed." I grumbled, starting to shift out of the bed and get to my feet. The snicker that I received in response was hardly an innocent one, anxiety amounting near instantly as I considered his intentions.

"Are you naked now too, Dan?" I blinked, blankly staring ahead as his teasing triggered a series of deeply rooted butterflies to stir somewhere in my stomach. How could he say things like that without wanting to take it back as soon as he'd put it out there?!

"No! I'm just wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday, you fiend!" I hissed through my teeth, taking a deep relieved inhale when my voice didn't crack with nerves.

"You know I don't care what you're wearing, I've seen you wear the same clothes for damn near a week when you were going through really tough times. Just come over, hurry up."

"Impatient." I muttered, my heart racing as I stumbled toward the mirror to check my appearance.

He'd already started talking about something else now, animatedly rambling on about a new show he'd started watching recently that he wanted to show me. I wanted to pay attention, I really did, there was never a time where I wasn't interested to hear him share opinions. It was just very difficult to try and concentrate when there seemed to be alarms going off all over my mind.

Friends aren't supposed to say things like that to one another.

Just like friends really aren't supposed to spend the next five minutes a flustered speechless mess following the flirtatious tone.

--

"Do you think she knows that he cheated on her at this point or is she just-"

"Shh!" Phil demanded, jerking an elbow into my side. I yelped, jumping away from him and delicately draping a hand over my new injury. He just laughed when he looked over and saw me suffering though, which led me to instead retaliate by stomping on his foot.

"Don't shush me!" I snapped, gesturing toward the boring scene playing out on the screen. It was the poorest attempt at an action film in modern cinematic history, yet he was still more invested in that than my excellent input? Unbelievable. "I'm allowed to talk during movies."

"My apartment, my rules." He replied in a singsong voice, sounding unreasonably proud to have the chance to boast this fact. I glared at him, silently ordering him to take that comment back just as quickly as he'd said it. He didn't though, just leaning toward me with a wolfish lopsided curve to his lips.

"You suck!" I groaned dramatically, moving to shove him away from me as he got too close to comfort. It had gone just like the last time I'd come over where he'd sat right next to me, having him lean toward me even closer meant there was hardly any space left between us at all.

The only problem with my effort being that he dodged the attack, leaving me to heave the majority of my upper body weight toward nothing, meaning I was left supportless. I scrambled to catch myself, but when I was falling toward him there were only so many places to get my balance. I ended up collapsing into his side completely, blushing like mad as I immediately started to try and get off of him. "Sorry."

"Nah, you can stay like that." He concluded dismissively, not even giving me the chance to object or finish moving away before he was wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me back down. I didn't fight him, instead just blindly allowing him to shift us around into a more comfortable position on the limited couch space.

I ended up lying practically on top of him, though he didn't seem bothered by the dead weight as I let my head fall to rest against him. Up until that moment I'd been convinced I was the only one stressing over the arrangement, but as I heard the erratic racing of his heart with my ear pressed to his chest it became apparent that this was yet another feeling that went both ways.

He's equally as nervous as I am about the gaps in our relationship, the unspoken specifics that made up our unique friendship and how it differed from what everyone else seemed to see as romantic. He's just much better at hiding it.

He shifted slightly beneath me, chuckling as he settled a hand in my hair and carded his fingers through it, eyes still focused on the screen. "See? I knew that'd shut you up, now you're too busy overthinking it to make comments on the movie."

"You're a dick." Even as I insulted him my words held no malice, if anything I just sounded unnerved by how very spot-on his interpretation had been.

"I know, I know." He chuckled, successfully ending the conversation at he grabbed the remote and turned the volume up a few more notches. I decided from that point on to actively start trying to dedicate my attention to the movie rather than the person I was watching it with.

That decision proved to be a giant mistake.

The film only got worse from that point on, the entire ending a confusing series of plot twists filled with inexplicable holes. None of it really made sense and every character you'd grown to like suddenly took the shift into something villain worthy. It was a matter of poor script-writing really, I realized this, but I couldn't help but feel like the entire cast was to blame as well. Surely they had to realize how awful this had sounded during the long process of filming this junk?

"That was the worst ending of all time."

"See? Wouldn't my commentary have been better?" I sneered, rolling over to prop myself up on my elbows and look down at him, ensuring a clear view of his expression as he reacted. He scrunched his nose up in distaste, making it very clear how much he agreed with me on the matter.

"Debatable." He settled on, slowly scooting out from beneath me and getting to his feet. I took his spot, propping my head against the armrest and watching as he started out of the room, assuring me that he'd be right back. I wasn't sure why he felt the need to clarify, it's not like I'd been rearing to follow after him and see where he was headed, but I didn't bother questioning it.

No, I was far more fascinated by the phone screen lighting up the room from its perch on the coffee table, a bright alert that Phil had just received a text message. I hummed, leaning closer and trying to see if I could glimpse what the contents of said message were without having to outright dig through his phone. The light shut off just as I started to establish words, a frustrated huff leaving my lips when I only came back with one word.

Well, one name.

Josh.

Never in my life had I heard my best friend mention anyone by that name, let alone someone he would be texting in the middle of the night, in the middle of our movie night. I'm sure it's someone I know, all I need is a face to put to the name really.

Curiosity got the better of me in a matter of seconds and I was snatching the phone up, guilt eating me alive but a desire to know driving me forward. I entered the passcode that I'd known for the duration of our friendship, the one that Phil used on near every site he needed one for, and watched as the messages came to life beneath my fingertips.

Lots of messages, geez, these guys have been talking a lot.

I read the most recent one first, the text he'd just been notified about seconds ago.

From: Josh. Sent: 11:46pm

"We're still on for lunch tomorrow, right? Really looking forward to meeting you!! :)"

I glared at the smiley face tacked onto the end like it was a personal insult, already trying to find something wrong with the message and getting annoyed when I couldn't immediately put my thumb on why it was bothering me so much. It sounded a bit desperate, sure, but could I really blame someone looking forward to a date with Phil Lester of all people?

It seemed that I could, considering the bitterness I was already harboring toward the faceless man. I scrolled through their exchange further, almost dreading what I might find. Thankfully nothing too scandalous was waiting for me, though I only made it halfway through all of their conversation before being interrupted by a low cough.

I looked up, eyes wide as he caught me in the act. Phil studied me for a moment before walking over and taking the device from my hands, meeting no resistance on my part. He looked over what I'd been reading and a small smile graced his face, doing a piss poor job of hiding the amusement he felt toward the entire situation.

"You should see his Tinder profile, he's got a yacht."

"W-What?"

"He has a yacht, he offered to take me whale watching." He reiterated again, speaking much slower this time. I nodded along as he spoke, not really focusing on what he was saying but rather what I was planning on saying in response. As he fell silent I took the spotlight, clearing my throat and trying my hardest to sound casual as I brought up the topic I was suddenly dying to have addressed.

"I didn't realize you were seeing guys too." He sat down next to me at this, eyeing me warily in the seconds following the observation.

It didn't really sound suspicious, didn't sound much more than a friendly acknowledgement. It was one of those things where you had to really read between the lines to notice anything at all was out of place, but having known me for years Phil knew exactly how to do this. He could read me like a book.

Sadly, it was blatantly obvious how much this information shocked me, whether he understood why that was or not.

"I don't see why I wouldn't." There was a certain defensive aspect to this, practically daring me to challenge his decision. Instantly I felt bad, realizing that he'd interpreted my reaction totally wrong. It's not that the thought of him seeing guys bothered me. I mean, I guess it did, but really I doubted it had anything to do with the gender of the people he was dating. I'd been feeling this way since the day he'd moved out, it just feels a lot more translucent all the sudden.

Really there are only so many reasons for a person to be skeptical of their friend's significant other, especially when they haven't yet given them a reason to be.

Phil was going off now, staring at me like I'd just admitted to murder before continuing to put his all into defending his choices. "Or do they not count because they can't bear children for me? Am I only allowed to see women so I can have the full life experience of raising a blood-related child? If that's the case I'm really gonna have to put my foot down and disagree with you, there's a lot more to being a parent than the conceiving part of it and-"

"No, of course not! How heteronormative do you think I am?" I grumbled suddenly, unable to continue listening to him spout such nonsense. I may prefer to stay sexually ambiguous and avoid labels altogether, but he's heard the way I talk about boys in the past. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that I'm far from homophobic. "See whoever you think might be worth your time. It was just a surprise, that's all, you haven't really talked about being attracted to guys much in the past couple years."

Thankfully he didn't need to be convinced anymore than that, looking incredibly apologetic just from hearing me explain it that much. He cleared his throat, looking down at his lap and fidgeting with his hands.

"I dunno, guess I just never met any that compared to my favorite one." His voice was hardly more than a whisper, I wasn't even convinced that I was meant to hear what he'd just admitted to, but for better or worse it'd definitely been distinguishable. Painstakingly so, every word seemed to affect me like another electric shock, one after the other until I was left buzzing dizzily afterward.

An abundance of unnecessary energy suddenly flowing my veins, I had the strangest urge to throw myself at him in classic tackle-hug fashion.

His favorite one.

Now, I don't want to jump to conclusions and normally I'm not the type to, but how many guys does he spend time with on the regular? By process of elimination there's really only one possible candidate for this supposed 'favorite' guy, the one that no one else can compare to. I guess that would be explanation enough for why things aren't working with him and anyone else, if he has feelings for me.

Imagine how horribly timed that would be, considering I spent the first three years after meeting him to fully get over the guy and convince myself platonic was more than enough. No, that's too ironic to be true, I must have misinterpreted it.

Still...

I swallowed nervously, turning ever so slowly to look at him through the fringe of my hair. I'd been expecting to find him looking at me, I had, but there was something different about actually locking eyes with his unwavering gaze. It was a lot like looking into the sun, in the sense that it shone too bright for you to fully have a chance to comprehend what was happening. All you could ever hope for was a quick glimpse, just long enough to accept that it was beautiful in a way that couldn't be defined. And God, was he ever beautiful.

In the time I spent longingly staring at him with a dopey smile firmly implanted on my lips, he had the chance to strike a smirk and lean in much closer. My eyes went embarrassingly wide and I was about to jump to even further conclusions, when instead of closing the gap between us he spoke in a rehearsed teasing voice I'd grown to recognize all too well. "Yeah, what can I say? Kanye West is just the Kanye best. No one else could ever come close."

"You are so annoying!" I screeched, pushing him away from me but erupting into laughter all the same. Right, nevermind all of those questionable feelings, this was what we were meant to be. First and foremost, before everything else that we faced, we were best friends. He was without a doubt my soulmate, but that didn't necessarily mean we had to spend the rest of our lives with our tongues down each other's throats.

There are different kinds of love, more than you can count. Not all of them involve romantic feelings and that's okay, it doesn't make them any less valid.

It just makes them a lot more painful when you realize the love you're feeling isn't the same kind that they're feeling for you.

"It's late." I sighed, starting to get to my feet. I knew it was obvious how much my train of thought had taken a toll on my mood, the shift in tone was evident. I just didn't have the energy to pretend otherwise like I normally would. "I should get going."

"You could stay." Phil piped up immediately, as expected. I opened my mouth to protest, only to feel his head drop onto my shoulder, pitiful round eyes blinking pleadingly up at me. He pouted, scooting even closer to my side and grabbing clumsily for my hand. "The prime real estate of my couch is unclaimed."

"If I'm staying I'm getting the bed, don't kid yourself." I huffed, looking in the opposite direction. I didn't really understand it but something had changed and the previous dull ache his gaze had caused me had erupted into something fiery, something scorching and painful that I was far too unsure of to explore any more tonight.

"Fine." He whined like it was a loss, like I'd just defeated him greatly by making claims on his precious bed. I could practically hear the ruse though, the poorly-hidden giddy excitement he felt knowing that he'd managed to get an agreement out of me.

He got to his feet hurriedly then, keeping his hand around mine all the while and eagerly dragging me up from my seat as well. I let him, despite knowing all too well that he served as a horrible lead. After nearly crashing into three pieces of furniture we finally arrived at the washroom, a tiny brightly-lit room just across the hall from his bedroom.

He dug open a drawer then, grabbing a brand new toothbrush and handing it to me. I gingerly accepted it, glancing down to watch as he freed his hand from mine and reached for his own toothbrush. He didn't notice that I wasn't making any progress until he'd already spread paste across his and started brushing, looking over at me with a raised eyebrow.

"You keep a toothbrush here for me?" I whispered, knowing without looking up at the mirror how red my cheeks would be tinted. He hummed thoughtfully, snaking an arm around my waist and leaning forward to spit out any excess. I watched as he straightened back up, smiling over at me with minty breath and using his newly free hand to spread paste across my brush for me as well. I lifted it to my lips accordingly, watching him and waiting on a reply.

"It's for my copious amounts of one night stands, don't flatter yourself." He replied smoothly, not missing a beat. I gagged at that, leaning forward and spitting the glob of toothpaste that had just made a dive down my throat. It wasn't until after I finished that I realized his hand that wasn't resting on my hip was hovering over the sink, directly in my projectile view. "You spat on my hand!"

"You deserved it!" I argued, laughing as he rinsed it off with increasing urgency, disgust influencing his features. I giggled as I replaced my toothpaste and started to brush my teeth again, only getting halfway through the task when he finished cleaning up.

"You are so not getting the bed after that." He announced, leaving me in the dust with a foaming mouth as he darted from the room. I spit quickly, rinsing my mouth in a rush before chasing after him.

"Hey!" I grumbled as I stomped into his room, crossing my arms over my shoulders and staring down at where he was snugly buried in blankets. "Get out! You told me I could have it!"

"I'm already under the covers, it's too late."

"Phil!" I whined, collapsing onto the free side of the bed to wholeheartedly put effort into hitting him through those many layers of blanketing. I hardly managed to land three flimsy slaps before he was shoving me backward off the bed. I climbed back up with intentions of continuing on the same route, only to freeze when I noticed the covers on my side had been pulled back, revealing a pale arm holding them up. I blanked, gaping at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"We used to share a bed every time we had sleepovers before we moved in together, don't make it weird."

"I'm not making it weird, you're making it weird." I muttered, falling into the designated spot and rustling around beneath the covers to get comfortable. The sheets were cool from lack of use but anywhere near him felt blazing hot, so my quest wasn't an easy one.

"No I'm not." He huffed.

"You totally are." I sneered, turning onto my side and facing away from him in hopes of ending the conversation. It's not that I wasn't enjoying talking to him, but rather I wasn't sure how much of it I could keep up with. The whole bickering together whilst swaddled in the same bedding had an incredibly domestic feeling to it, one that I wasn't quite ready to admit to.

"If I agree with you can I do this?" I didn't have time to question what he was asking until he slid closer, pressing his front against my back and lighting my skin aflame everywhere he touched. I spluttered, squirming away from him and shaking my head rapidly.

"No, you can't do that."

"Then I'm not making it weird." He concluded, like this was good news to be celebrated. He rolled back over like it was easy for him to instantly forget the embrace, a perk that I wished I could share. I had no doubt in my mind that I would spend half the night awake thinking about what he'd meant by that, and likely never reach a conclusion.

--

Never in my life had I been so happy to be proven wrong. Falling asleep next to Phil hadn't been near as difficult as I'd figured, if anything it'd been even easier than my nights spent alone. There was something comforting in having a second source of heat beneath the covers, a calming rhythm to the paced breathing alongside my own.

Without even realizing that I was doing it I caught myself timing my own breathing with his, as if sharing the same bed hadn't made us close enough.

I hated to see the moment end, the blaring intrusion of his phone ringing at the crack of dawn sending a wave of annoyance through me. I groaned in protest, grabbing for the covers to pull them over my head in my sleep-induced state of confusion. It took me a few seconds to register what the noise actually was, the same way it took me a long delayed moment of frustration to understand why I couldn't bring the blankets up any further than they already were.

Phil.

That was Phil's phone ringing, Phil's iron grip clamping the covers against my side.

I blushed all at once then, blinking my eyes slowly open to look around the room. Okay so maybe it wasn't the crack of dawn, if anything it looked a lot closer to noon, but it was still equally as offensive to be torn away from such an uncharacteristically peaceful sleep.

I shifted, cautiously risking a glance over my shoulder at the body pressed close to mine. Our current position very closely resembled the one he'd jokingly suggested the night before, his frame curled protectively around the back of mine, arm thrown around my stomach and holding me close.

We were spooning.

"Phil." I whispered, trying to be soft about the way I shook him from sleep. Truthfully it was probably more out of concern for myself than him, considering I was in the process of trying to free myself from his hold and wouldn't really want him to wake until I'd finished. His phone had stopped ringing sometime throughout the process which served as a great relief, considering it gave him one less reason to wake up and catch me, but only seconds after falling silent it was blaring again.

Worse yet, he'd proven to be an incredibly clingy fuck in his sleep, only grumbling half-awake protests as I tried to wrench his grip off of my shirt. In the end the constant noise of the phone grew too much for me to bear, to the point that I put my dignity on the backburner to outright tear myself away from him. "Phil!"

"What?" This was the first semi-coherent thing he'd said today, though it was still rather difficult to distinguish given the low rumble he spoke in first thing after waking. I turned around to face him properly now that I could, propping myself up on one elbow to stare down at him as he struggled to wake up fully. I waited until his eyes groggily started blinking open to continue speaking, uncertain if he would have been able to process anything said before that point.

"Your phone is r-" I paused, furrowing my eyebrows together. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Hair splayed across the pillow and a giddy lopsided smile curling his lips upward, he was staring up at me with a look of rapt fascination. I started to pout when he didn't immediately answer, slowly opening my mouth to question him further. I didn't even manage to get a word out before he interrupted though, voice soft and affectionate in a way that I wasn't used to hearing.

"Your hair looks like a rat's nest." His choice of words did not line up with the tone at all, my red cheeks shifting into a face red with anger as I slapped his chest.

"Hey!" I snapped, frantically reaching up to try and sort out the frizzy mess of half-formed curls on my head. He just laughed though, a deep rumble that had me pausing in the middle of what I was doing to gape down at him. Eyes wrenched shut and crinkling with amusement at the corners, tongue playfully poking out between his teeth as he giggled, he really was a sight to see. It was hard to believe this man was thirty years old. Where did the time go?

I shook my head, willing those thoughts away and landing him with a soft kick to his leg. "Your phone is ringing, go and answer it!"

"Fine." He sighed, making a big deal out of it as he pulled the covers back and shivered in response to the cool air that cascaded in afterward. He clambered out of the bed in his usual clumsy fashion, nearly tripping over himself as he rushed out of the room to find where he'd left his phone the night before.

It wasn't until he'd left and I'd fallen back against the pillows that I had the chance to think about the events of the morning. What kind of person calls three times in a row? Unless it was actually an emergency of sorts and we'd just wasted precious time being all sappy together while there was someone seriously trying to get ahold of him.

I panicked, scooting up the bed to lean against the headboard. I listened carefully, trying to pick up any clues from the one-sided conversation Phil was offering in the other room.

"Shit, I am so sorry. My alarm didn't go off for some reason, any chance we can reschedule for later today?" Suddenly it all seemed rather self-explanatory, yet I didn't feel any relief upon learning what was actually going on. What kind of desperate jerk calls three consecutive times when they don't receive an answer? Can't he take a hint? He got stood up, his date wasn't coming, his date was far too busy sleeping in bed with another man.

Imagine if he knew, if Phil hadn't bothered to lie and had instead outright told him what had made him so late for their meeting. Why does that thought make me so much happier? That's not the way friends are supposed to behave."You got it, I'll bring armfuls of flowers and beg for forgiveness."

"Flowers." I snorted, rolling my eyes at the idea.

"Alright, see you then, I can't wait to meet you either." He says this, he insists that he couldn't possibly wait any longer, yet he hadn't had any problem with it just moments ago when I'd had to practically force him to answer the phone. He's such a liar, so good at telling everyone exactly what they want to hear. I wonder how many times he's done the same to me, looked me in the eyes and warped the truth to make it easier for me to accept.

I watched as he walked back into my line of view, staring at his phone screen as he came to a stop in the door frame. He glanced up after realizing he'd reached his destination, flashing me a quick smile and pointing to the device. "That was Josh."

"I gathered."

"We've rescheduled for dinner tonight."

"I see." I sounded anything but invested in the topic, my voice distant and very clearly distracted. I could tell that he noticed this as well, given the way he lingered in the doorway rather than coming any closer. I stood slowly, shuffling around and trying to locate where I'd kicked off my socks during the night. He didn't comment, though I could feel his curious gaze on me as I worked. It was only after finding the pair that I turned to face him again, clearing my throat as I struggled to explain my actions. "I actually have a video to edit today, I should get going."

"Come on, at least stay for breakfast." He laughed, apparently not taking me seriously despite my best efforts to sound confident in the decision. I shrugged my shoulders, moving closer and attempting to dart past him and out of the room. He blocked the way though, meaning my options were either address him or duck under his arm in a desperate bid for escape.

"I really have to go." I repeated, gripping his arm and pushing it out of the way. His face fell when it clicked that I wasn't horsing around, reacting like the words had caused a physical ache to hit him.

"We'll do this again sometime though, right?" Guilt enveloped me and before I really had time to think about the consequences of my actions I found myself agreeing. This didn't feel like the same closure one would give to a platonic sleepover between friends. It was strained, the air around us heavy with a thick tension I wasn't quite willing to admit to.

"Of course, it was fun."

"Cool." He blurted, the reassurance I'd given him evident in the sudden mood shift. Previously hesitant and hindered, now he just looked so pleased with the conversation that it was adorably dorky. I wasn't sure when he'd grabbed them but at some point during the past five minutes he'd adorned his face with a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, doing hardly anything to help with his lame disposition.

"Cool." I responded, mirroring his tone. Picking up on the teasing, he stuck his tongue out at me.

"Mega cool." I lifted an eyebrow, shaking my head at him.

"Mega loser."

--

"Things with Josh?" I asked, kicking his foot beneath the table. He looked up from the paper he was reading through to glare at me, eyes narrowed in an intimidating glint.

"Don't wanna talk about it." I chuckled, leaning back to look at him with my full undivided attention. This was the second time I'd asked him about his date the night before, though the first time he'd easily dodged the question without even having to offer a verbal response. At this point I was growing painfully curious to know how things had gone, considering this was the first person he hadn't given me constant updates around.

Maybe he only kept me posted on all of the failed dates and this one had gone so well he didn't want to share the nitty gritty details of their encounter, how am I to know? He hasn't given me anything to go off of.

"Why not?" I pried softly, reaching across the table to steal the paper from him before he could use it as a distraction a second time around. He shot me another look at that, pointedly watching me as he lifted his drink to his lips and took a sip. He didn't look like he was anywhere near the point of breaking and telling me what I wanted to know. "Oh, come on, you have to tell me your dating nightmare stories! That was in the rules!"

"It's embarrassing."

"Even better!" I beamed, tossing the paper onto the bench beside me to reach over the table a second time, taking both of his hands in mine in what I hoped would be an encouraging move. He sighed long and hard, like he still wasn't entirely convinced, but he did speak up after a few moments of delay.

"He was looking for a sugarbaby."

"He wanted you to?" I blinked, lifting my hands and moving to perform a rather obscene gesture so I wouldn't have to outright say the word. He slapped them back down against the table before I got the chance though, blushing like mad despite the chastising look in his eyes. I spluttered, trying in vain to hold my laughter at bay. "He wanted you to do that, for money?"

"It's not funny!" He barked, cheeks flaming.

"You're right, it's not." I agreed solemnly, looking down at the tabletop with a soft sigh, only to whip my head back and start cackling seconds later. "It's not funny, it's hilarious!"

"This is all your fault." He whined, burying his face in his hands. I could hardly contain my amusement, heads turning in our direction to question my breakdown of sorts. I was clutching my stomach and heaving to catch my breath, but even my best efforts didn't seem to be a match for my fit of giggles I was experiencing.

"Not my fault you have awful taste in guys." I managed finally, gasping for air between words. He looked like he was gonna challenge me on that, even opened his mouth to protest, though he seemed to think better of it and slowly brought his jaw back into place with a tight-lined frown.

"I guess not." He sighed, turning away from me to look around us at the surrounding area. I took a page out of his book and followed his lead, studying the rest of the people sitting at the booths around us in hopes of calming myself down. I really didn't want to embarrass him any more than I already had, he'd never tell me anything again if it always ended up like this.

It'd been his idea to go out for lunch today, the first contact I'd had with him in twenty-four hours came in text message form begging me to meet him here with a slew of emojis attached. It wasn't until I'd arrived that he explained why we couldn't go to our usual favorite place, that he'd taken Josh there last night and couldn't look at it the same just yet. That was what had prompted me to ask about their date the first time, but he effortlessly changed subjects by shoving a menu at me.

It was a quaint little food truck that served your typical meals, an array of burgers, fries, and milkshakes spotted the tables surrounding us. Aside from that nothing else really matched, each of the picnic tables painted different mismatched colors with miscellaneous styles of overhead umbrellas. It was only down the road from his new apartment as well, settled outside the local park.

It was a nice change of pace, I had to give him that.

"Number four!" A loud voice called, everyone seated turning to stare at the woman leaning out of the order window, a smile on her face. I glanced back at our table, eyes going wide when I realized our number matched the one she'd just called.

"That's our order." I deadpanned, earning an eyeroll from Phil as he rose to his feet and went to go and get it. I felt slightly incompetent as I sat there waiting for him to get back, blushing as I turned to look down the winding path leading into the park. Maybe we'd walk through it after we'd finished eating, there seemed to be a lot of plants and animals scattered throughout, it was just the type of place Phil would like to explore.

The sound of the tray clattering against our table had me staring to turn back, eager to greet him and express thanks for his volunteer efforts, but last second I spotted something darting out of the park gates that had the plans thrown out the window in a heartbeat. "Oh my god, Phil, look."

"I'm trying to eat." He grumbled, mouth clearly full despite the fact I hadn't looked his way yet. I whined, turning to reach for his arm and eagerly slap it a few times until I'd garnered his attention again.

"Look!" I demanded again, still hitting my hand against the back of his, repetitive taps that were surely driving him insane already. He continued to mumble complaints as he followed my gaze, a rather unnecessary action considering I was clarifying aloud at the same time. "It's a shibe!"

"Oh." He chuckled, taking on a far more understanding tone as we both watched the dog's owner rush to catch up with his high-energy pet. It seemed to have escaped his hold, considering the leash it was dragging behind and the frantic way he was yelling after it. He managed to catch it just before it launched toward one of the tables bearing food, holding on for dear life as he wrestled to grab the leash again.

I giggled, only growing more excited now that the animal was so much closer. I could practically see how soft its fur was. I didn't have time to share this revelation though, interrupted by Phil's signature professional voice speaking up over the dog's energetic yaps. "Excuse me, but do you mind if we pet your dog?"

The stranger and I both turned to look at Phil in unison, though our expressions differed greatly. While he looked startled by the unexpected question and was working to process it, I only looked infatuated from the moment he spoke. I could only imagine the sickeningly sweet way I was staring at him, those recurring 'heart eyes' that everyone told me I was such a culprit of likely making an unapproved guest appearance. What would I do without him around?

"Not at all!" The guy laughed suddenly, scratching nervously at the back of his neck as he worked to drag the dog closer to our table. As soon as he let the leash go slack it jumped up onto the seat beside me, attempting to dive for my food. I hardly had time to register what was happening by the time Phil had already picked up our entire tray of food to keep it out of reach.

I gave an appreciative nod in his direction, hardly catching his response before I was hurriedly turning back to give attention to the dog still sidled up beside me.

I gingerly placed a hand on its back, my composure instantly cracking as I let out an excited whine and turned back to beam another smile in my Phil's direction.

"Phil!" I managed, not bothering to elaborate any further before turning back to the dog and putting my undivided attention into snuggling it. Besides, Phil had looked pretty understanding as to how I was feeling right about then, a knowing quirk to his lips.

A minute later and I wasn't sure that this man would ever be able to pry me away from his pet. My cautious petting had amount to full-on hugging after getting the okay from the owner, my face currently buried into the soft fur at the base of the dog's neck.

"Having fun?" I nodded into the dog at the question, uncertain if I'd be able to manage a verbal response.

"It's so soft, I'm gonna cry."

"What's it's name?" I looked up at this, in disbelief that I hadn't thought to ask this question myself before now. The man looked proud as he reached over and rustled up the fur atop the dog's head, sending its perky ears twitching.

"Her name is Millie." I smiled even harder at that, leaning forward to study the dog's face from a different angle. At some point her jaw had gone slack, a bright pink tongue having lolled out to accompany the heavy panting. Briefly I felt tempted to go purchase a cone of vanilla ice cream for it, but I decided that might be taking it a step too far.

The dog turned to me as the thought crossed my mind though, whining hopefully like she could sense what I was thinking. I grinned, turning back to Phil.

"Do you hear that, Phil? Millie. Isn't that the cutest name you've ever heard?" I realized I may have been exaggerating just the tiniest bit, but in the heat of the moment it was difficult not to be dramatic. I'd wanted a dog of my own for so long now and this one seemed to have every quality I was looking for. Then again, at this point I was pretty sure that any dog would meet my standards I'd grown so desperate in the past year.

I turned back to the dog one final time, knowing that I'd likely already overstayed my welcome. There was only so long you could stand by while a stranger awkwardly fawned over your dog, this poor guy was probably feeling very uncomfortable at this point.

I offered her a final chin scratch, speaking without thinking as I continued to stare at her, completely invested. "Isn't she just the cutest thing you've ever seen!?"

"Close, but not quite." I blinked, registering Phil's quiet words despite his tone suggesting that I wasn't meant to. I gulped, instantly forgetting all of the thanks I'd been planning on offering the stranger for letting me interact with his dog. Instead my mind was replaced by a series of intrusive fond thoughts, jumping to conclusions about what Phil had meant by that line despite knowing what a bad idea it was to do so.

Thankfully he stepped up to the plate when I couldn't, getting to his feet and offering a hand for the man to shake. "Thank-you so much. Your dog is wonderful."

"No trouble, truthfully she's a bit of a demon at best. I love her anyway though." He gave a gentle tug on the dog's leash then, leading her away from me. I pouted as her soft fur ran through my fingers one last time, already feeling the loss as she started back into the park. I waited until they'd fully disappeared to turn and collapse across the table, staring up at Phil through my lashes.

"I want a dog so badly."

"You'd be such a good dog parent." He agreed, carefully settling the tray off to the side so I still had room to pout across the surface. I'd already brightened up after hearing his observation though, eyes wide and impressionable as I prompted him to continue.

"You think so?" He looked like he was going to back up his opinion but he seemed to think better of it, instead just smiling softly as he nodded his agreement. I decided that was more than enough, knowing how well I handled praise from the likes of him. "It's gonna happen, one of these days."

"Maybe once we get our house together." He commented quietly, toying with the buttons on his shirt and not looking me in the eye. I tried to ignore the sweep of longing that hit me all at once when he said things like that, the same way I swallowed down the eager words of agreement I wanted to share. I can't encourage him when he gets like this, it's just not fair to either of us.

I can't get my hopes up about things like this, not again.

"What did I tell you about favoring that option over the others?"

"I know, Dan, I'm not supposed to do it." He grumbled, angrily digging a fork into the mound of fries on his plate, being none too subtle about how unhappy the topic made him this time around. I debated dropping it altogether after getting that reaction, before deciding that should only give me even more reason to stand by my opinion.

I can't get my own hopes too high, but I can't allow him to set his too low either. He deserves so much more than this, so much more than what we have.

"Then stop!"

"It's not that easy." He spoke so quietly I caught myself rethinking my approach all over again, feeling suddenly guilty for pushing him so much. I know I'd be terrified if I were to try throwing myself back into the dating pool at this age, imagine how inadequate and alone he feels right now. Still, he's only doing what's best for him, why doesn't he understand that?

"Someday you're gonna want a husband or a wife and I can't be that, I can't be everything you need." I tried to explain, growing frustrated when only confusion dotted his features in response. He looked far from agreeable, pushing his food to the side so he could lean forward and get fully involved in the conversation. That was a telltale sign that things were about to go down, making me wonder if I was really equipped to handle a serious conversation about this.

It was one thing saying those things, it was something else entirely believing them, especially when he was so insistent that I was in the wrong. Doesn't he realize how hard it was to convince myself that this was the right thing to begin with? He's not making it any easier on me.

"There are tons of people who don't experience romantic or sexual attraction at all, I don't necessarily need a spouse to be happy." I hated it. I hated the way he talked down to me when he wanted to prove a point, how put-together and articulate he could suddenly seem when it came to winning an argument. No one gave him near enough credit, always discrediting him as the happy-go-lucky fun one. There was so much more to him than anyone else realized, even more than what I was actively aware of.

"But you're not one of those people, I know this for a fact." Even as I said this my voice lacked any form of confidence, a weak-willed counter that held little value.

"Do you now?" I nodded, desperate to be taken seriously. It felt so urgent that he listen to me that I forgot to think about what I was actually saying, focusing solely on making a point.

"We've lived together for years, if you think you're slick enough to hide every person you've brought home and every porno you've watched, you are sorely mistaken."

"Oh, is that right?" I started to nod before the sudden realization of what I'd just admitted to dawned on me, causing me to freeze. I gulped, nervously chuckling as I tried to think about how to take back every last thing I'd just said. That was not a topic we were supposed to breach.

I waited for him to say something, to take on that reprimanding serious tone he used whenever I got too out of hand or did something unacceptable. Whether it was a particularly rude outburst at a fan back in 2012 or a hurtful thing I said to him in the heat of an argument, all he had to do was raise his voice and I was instantly swamped with regret.

By some miracle he didn't do it this time though, just stared at me for a long moment before winking at me.

"You want ketchup, right?" I nodded numbly, unable to process the way he'd just reacted.

"Yeah, please." I squeaked finally, when he hesitated with the container held above my food. He put his all into the task then, squeezing the dispenser so tightly all of its contents seemed to shoot out at once, drenching my food. I gasped, jolted back into my right mind in the sudden emergency. "I didn't ask for that much!"

It was only after he took to laughing that I realized he'd done it on purpose, likely with the intentions of breaking me from my anxious internal struggle. I glared at him, picking up my soggy plate and dropping it on top of his. That wiped the smile from his face real fast.

--

I jumped up and down in excitement, carefully placing the final cupcake onto the cooling rack. The test subject was still in my other hand, practically burning the fingers holding it but proving worthwhile with each bite I winced my way through. These were arguably the best thing I'd ever managed to make. I couldn't want to shout it from the rooftops and brag endlessly. Speaking of which, I know a perfect first victim.

"Phil, you've got to try these-" I paused mid-shout, remembering suddenly as my voice echoed through the halls that I was the only person in the apartment. I was here alone, Phil didn't live with me anymore. You would think after a month and a half I would have grown used to the change, but I still found myself walking into the empty room that he used to call his more times than I could count.

I missed him. I even missed the stupid socks he used to leave lying on every surface in reach.

It was a delayed realization, one that hit me all at once. The first month after he'd left had flown by, we'd spent so much time together it was hardly noticeable that he wasn't around when I woke up and when I fell asleep. The second had been different though, something had changed. Our daily hangouts turned into weekly lengthy phone calls, a considerable loss that I'd tried not to be upset about. It wasn't easy though, especially not when said calls hardly made me feel close to him at all.

I felt more distanced from my best friend now than I had when we'd first met, when there were entire cities between us.

He didn't share anything with me, didn't show any emotion in the slightest. All he wanted to talk about were trivial things, television shows and youtube related topics seemed to be his go-to's. None of it seemed to hold any value, not like our conversations used to.

He seemed so far away these past two weeks, it was like I didn't even know him. I wasn't even sure if he was still seeing people, though a selfish part of me had long ago prompted me to stop asking. I didn't care anymore, I couldn't even force myself to pretend that I did. If he admits to me in two weeks time that he hasn't been on a single date since the last time we saw each other in person, I won't even be upset.

If anything it'll be a relief, knowing that he'll for sure be coming back to me once this is all over and done with.

It's hard to believe that I ever had it in me to outright reject it each time he'd bring up getting a house and making a living together, now it was all I could take not to call him up and suggest we do the very same starting tomorrow. It sounded so nice, a place in the world to call our own.

I don't even care if he deserves better anymore... what about what I deserve?

If he'll have me then who am I to try and convince him otherwise?

I groaned, lifting my hands and tugging at my hair in annoyance. Why is this so difficult? Why does it hurt so badly? I knew going into this that he might meet someone else, that I might be compromising the way we'd grown to rely on each other for everything. I fully understood the consequences, I don't get the right to be upset after being the one to make them a reality.

I wanted this. I wanted the best for him more than I wanted it for myself.

I fell into one of the chairs at the table, digging my phone out and opening the Twitter app. My eyebrows raised when I saw the influx of notifications I was receiving, far more than I normally would after not tweeting for days at a time. They weren't even the usual concerned fans asking where I was at either, they were all capitals and emojis to the point it was obvious they were excited about something.

I read through them slowly, making my way through a few tweets before I saw one sporting a rather self-explanatory hashtag at the start. That was all it took for the excitement to sweep me up as well, eagerly locating Phil's youtube channel to confirm. I grinned, opening a text to him and making a rather sudden decision about what I was going to do with my masterpiece cupcake creations.

To: Phil. Sent: 5:43pm

"CONGRATS ON FIVE MILLION! (ps: I'm coming over)"

The trip to Phil's apartment was an unbearable one, despite the public transit being relatively empty and the roads being absent of traffic. It was a quick journey, but that didn't make it any less hard on me. All I could think about the entire way there was how I was going to greet him after two weeks apart, how I could look him in the eye and pretend it hadn't been a big deal when I'd spent the duration of his absence feeling like I'd lost a physical part of myself.

All I wanted was to be complete again, why did it have to be so difficult to achieve that? It was never like this before. Even when I'd had a foolish crush on the guy I hadn't gotten so hung-up on the way we interacted, never second-guessed our relationship the way that I was now.

I just wanted things to go back to normal, whatever our normal was. It might not be the same 'normal' that every other pair of friends finds familiar, but it was what worked for us and I want it back.

Even worse than the trip there was managing my nerves after already arriving, instantly darting from the entrance and into the public washroom. I couldn't tell you how long I spent picking over my appearance in the reflection of that dingy mirror, everything from my outfit to my hair seemed to be out of place in that moment. It wasn't good enough, none of it was good enough to present to Phil after spending so long without him.

Eventually I managed to drag myself away from the mirror and up the stairs though, deciding to bypass the sketchy elevator entirely and give myself more time to think through my approach simultaneously. It was only a temporary solution though, I could only spend so long scaling the staircase. Sooner rather than later I found myself stood outside his door, clutching a neatly decorated batch of celebratory cupcakes inside of one of our shared tupperware containers he'd left me.

I knocked, not receiving any immediate response. An unsettled feeling quickly amounted to full on fear, my knock repeating itself at a much louder rate. What if something's happened to him? What if one of those guys he was seeing proved to be even sketchier than Josh? I wouldn't even know we talk so little these days, it's been at least seventy-two hours since I last spoke with him. That's long enough without communication to file a missing person's report!

"Phil, hurry your lazy ass up!" I shouted, pounding my fist against the door now and praying that I'd get some form of answer. I somehow managed to keep my tone despite how nauseous I felt just thinking about the manner of things that could have happened to him without me around.

We're supposed to work in a pair, we aren't meant to navigate problems on our own. God, why did I ever think this was a good idea?

The door swung open suddenly, cutting off my panicked train of thought all at once. I rushed to say something, anything to express just how much I'd missed him and how happy I was to see he was alright, but I couldn't find the words before I looked up and lost my will to try completely.

"Hello?" He questioned, voice disgruntled like he'd just woken up. His hair was a mess, his outfit lacking in more ways than one, and his skin completely covered in bruises. Not in the sense I'd been expecting to see though, but rather the post-sex casual look that made it very clear what he'd been up to today.

"H-Hi? Who are you?" I asked meekly, studying the unfamiliar features of the man in front of me. If I could even call him that, he looked younger than I was.

"Alex." He clarified, like that somehow cleared everything up and explained the strange scantily-clad man that had answered my best friend's door. He extended a hand out to me and I couldn't help but to think of where it'd been in the past few hours as I took it, shaking it halfheartedly as I tried to discreetly peer around him and into the apartment. "You're one of Phil's friends, right? Dave, maybe?"

"Dan." I growled, giving up on looking around him.

"Ah, I see." He gave a lazy uninvested chuckle afterward that told me he didn't understand or 'see' near as much as he was letting on with his response. I didn't respond, just staring blankly at him and silently hoping the actual person I'd come here to see would come along and interrupt us.

He didn't. Instead I got the second best thing, a silent staredown with the man who had just spent his afternoon shagging my best friend. Eventually he was the one to break our moment off, clearing his throat and starting to back into the apartment, closing the door as he went. "Well, he's not home, he ran out to the grocers."

"Can you just tell him that I stopped by and dropped these off?" I blurted, desperate to get my say in before this guy erased my presence anymore than he already had. I shoved the cupcakes at him, watching as he lifted a sole eyebrow and opened the lid without asking. I balled my hands into fists as he smeared his finger through the icing on one, plopping it into his mouth with all the respect of a troubled teenager.

Maybe he is a teenager, he's way too stick thin to be an adult. Okay, now I'm just purposely trying to find reasons to dislike him, I'm sure he's at least twenty. That's still young though, especially considering I'd spent years bothered by the age gap Phil shared with me.

As he hummed his approval he reached to get more icing, interrupted last second as I continued to speak and try to deter him from eating them. I stood taller, purposely looming over him and trying my best to seem intimidating. "They're for a special event, I'm not just randomly dropping him off cupcakes with no good reason-"

"Ah, the five million subscribers thing. We went out last night to celebrate it. Big deal, I guess." He cut me off, grabbing an entire cupcake and shoving it into his mouth at once. Thankfully my jaw had been left hanging open mid-sentence, otherwise it surely would have dropped in shock at what he'd just admitted to.

Phil had gone out with him to celebrate this huge milestone? We always celebrated our milestones together, I wouldn't even have had any if it hadn't been for all the help I'd gotten from him back at the beginning. Now I'm expected to believe that this annoying kid stole my role? The one who doesn't even know my name and has the audacity to sound doubtful about five million being a big deal?

"Yeah, it's a very big deal." I insisted, stuffing my hands into my pockets. He still didn't seem convinced, staring up at me with his head tilted at an uncomfortable angle. I resisted the urge to smirk, silently hoping that he might get a cramp in his neck when he's straining so to look me in the eye.

"He seemed to think it was too, the celebrations were crazy." He snickered to himself as he said this, reaching a hand up to scratch at his neck where the sea of purple hickeys covered the pale plane of skin. I grit my teeth, giving a robotic forced smile.

He reached for another cupcake as he took a step back, starting to close the door with his foot once again. "Well, I'll let him know you were here!"

"Thanks." I didn't really sound all that grateful as I said this, but it didn't much matter considering he'd already closed the door in my face. I laughed, an empty hollow sound that I'd only ever made few times in the past. It was a cry for help of sorts, one that was about to go unanswered for the first time in years, since the day I'd met Phil.

He'd always been there for me, even kept his volume up late at night so the skype call ringing could wake him up if need be. This was the first time I could remember that there wasn't a pair of familiar blue eyes instantly focused on me, followed by soft-spoken understanding questions being asked to gauge how serious of a state I was in.

No, the only sound I heard was the distant shouting coming from an apartment on the floor below. This was it then, I was completely on my own this time.

I turned, stumbling down the hall despite the way my knees threatened to buckle with each step. Exactly how pathetic is it considered to break down in the hallway of an apartment building? Is that gonna be a new low for me or have I already cried in worse places? All I know is that I can't really bring myself to care right now, not even if I'm caught in the middle of it by someone who actually lives here. I'm not gonna be able to pretend I'm okay all the way home, I'm only human.

I managed to find a rather out of sight corner at the top of the stairwell, beside a supplies closet that didn't look to be used all that regularly. Sure, anyone coming up the stairs would have to pass by me, but my particular hiding place was in the shadows just enough to go unnoticed. It's not like I was going to get any better, not unless I wanted to try braving the stairs with blurry vision and locating that same public washroom from earlier.

This would do though, it was comfortable enough for a good cry.

I settled on the floor, taking a shaky breath as I pulled my knees up against my chest. I tried to make myself as small as possible, burying my face into my hands and letting my guard down enough to release my first choked sob.

I'm not supposed to care this much, this was never part of the plan. Never once had I told him that he had to find a partner that I approved of, and he shouldn't have to, what should matter most to me is the fact that he's found someone he's happy with. This was what I wanted for him, someone that could give him everything I used to and more.

I wasn't sure how long I stayed like that, but eventually it stopped being a matter of crying and shifted into one of reflection, wondering idly where it all went wrong. I'd been so happy going into this, like I'd truly done the right thing for once. When did it start making me feel sick to think about the fact he might not be coming home to me at the end of all this?

I was blankly staring at the wall across from me when the first sign of life in the building since I'd settled interrupted the process, the sound of a door slamming at the base of the stairs quickly followed by the stomp of feet against each step. I shifted, flattening myself into the corner and praying that no one would think to look my way.

It wasn't until the person reached the top of the stairs that I noticed the soft humming and how familiar it was, my eyes darting over to face the noise when the rest of me couldn't. True to my suspicions, a rather pensive looking Phil had just reached the third floor, carrying an impressive number of bags in both of his hands.

I held my breath, waiting until he'd rounded the corner and started down the hall to exhale. It was only then that I stopped to think whether I was frightened by the idea of him noticing me or the thought that he might pass by completely oblivious, but either way now I knew how awful the latter would make me feel.

He was so close, any other time all it would have taken to receive his comforting would have been getting him to look my way, and yet there was still such distance between us I wasn't sure that it was guaranteed anymore even if I outright asked him for it.

It took me a minute, but eventually I managed to rise off the ground and onto shaky legs, taking my time to retrace my steps from earlier. I paused before rounding the corner though, instead backing up against the wall and peering nervously around it.

I watched as Phil fumbled with his keys and the bags he was carrying, the same way he always had when we'd lived together. The only difference was this time he wasn't interrupted by my impatient series of complaints, but rather the door swinging open to reveal a smiling face. Icing still tracing his bottom lip, 'Alex' launched into the hall to throw his arms around Phil's neck with a shrill screech.

"Happy to see you too." Phil laughed as the other practically choked him, utterly smothered with an unreasonable amount of affection. He looked like some type of constrictor determined to bleed the life out of Phil by hugging him tight enough to cut off air supply. He'd even brought his spindly legs up to wrap around his waist, being none too subtle in his efforts.

"Did you bring ice cream? If you answer no I'm not letting you into the apartment." Alex announced suddenly, the first coherent thing he'd said since spotting the other. He pulled back to look Phil in the eye, lifting his eyebrows expectantly.

"Of course I did, I'm not an idiot." Phil rolled his eyes, gently lowering him back to the floor. That was when Alex started taking bags from his hands and helping to carry them inside, though he hardly managed to take a step into the apartment before Phil was interrupting him. "Was Dan here earlier? He sent me a text."

"Yeah, he left in a hurry though." He explained, using a thoughtful tone like it was difficult to remember despite it only just happening. Phil seemed to need a moment to process this information, staring down at the tiled flooring beneath his feet with a faint frown.

Alex dropped the bags inside the door then, spinning around to face him again and introduce another hug. Nuzzling his face into Phil's neck with a loud hum of appreciation, the amount of clinginess this boy was displaying was unbelievable. I couldn't believe he hadn't been shoved off yet. "Stop worrying."

"I'm not." Phil argued, though it was easy to see through the lie. He looked tired all the sudden, leaning his head back to stare up at the ceiling as the other boy continued to snuggle into his chest, completely oblivious to the dark bags beneath those blue eyes and how much paler than usual Phil's complexion looked.

"You totally are!" Alex disagreed, threading his fingers through raven hair and grabbing hold roughly as he pulled back to kiss the other. I watched for a second, impressed by how unaffected I was by the embrace, but the moment Phil started to respond and kiss him back I had to duck back around the corner. I clenched my eyes shut, unaware I'd started crying until I felt the tears building up beneath my shut eyelids. Maybe I'd been just a bit more affected by it than I'd realized, but it still wasn't near as bad as seeing the person that mattered most to me willingly participate.

This wasn't some crazy kid he put up with because he had to, Phil liked this guy.

Phil liked this guy more than he liked me in some ways I suppose, considering we'd never shared a kiss.

--

From: Marzia. Sent: 10:34am

"Hey, Dan! Are you coming out with us tonight?"

I lifted an eyebrow, staring at the cryptic message. What did she mean by that? This was the first I'd heard of any plans, especially ones that I was supposedly included in. In fact, I hadn't been in contact with any of my friends for a week now, this had come out of the blue entirely.

To: Marzia. Sent: 11:03am

"I wasn't aware that I was invited anywhere."

I looked away from my phone, tossing it onto the cushion beside me to focus on the computer situated on my stomach instead. I was slouched comfortably in my sofa crease, chin tucked against my chest.

I didn't even manage to make it through half a page of the angsty fanfiction I was reading before my phone alerted me of another text, an annoyed groan leaving my lips as I fumbled around at my side to find where I'd thrown it. Eventually I grabbed hold of the device, lifting it and reading through it with grave concentration.

From: Marzia. Sent: 11:03am

"Oh, I figured Phil would let you know. Yeah, we're all going to the clay cafe, so if you aren't afraid of being upstaged by Pj's creative genius come along!"

My entire outlook shifted upon reading that, a deep rooted desire to see my friend replacing any of the hesitance I'd felt toward leaving the house. Phil was going to be there, an outing between friends would serve as the perfect opportunity to catch up with him and grow closer again. This was just a tiny bump in a long road we'd been traveling for years, I wasn't about to let it bring our journey to an early end when it was something so trivial. We were more than this.

To: Marzia. Sent: 11:05am

"Text me the address later, I look forward to it."

I did look forward it, for hours following that exchange. I couldn't concentrate on anything, thoughts of my evening plans interrupting everything I attempted to do up until that point. Even while I was in the process of getting ready to go out I caught myself getting constantly distracted, having to get back in the shower twice as I forgot crucial steps both the first and second time.

I was a mess. By the time I finally settled into the backseat of a cab the lack of things to do to distract myself with was somehow worse, considering that left me addressing all the intrusive thoughts I'd been dealing with throughout the day.

Why didn't Phil invite me? Did he purposely avoid it because he didn't want me to come? What if after going through all of this effort, we don't even talk once I get there? I don't want to be the lone nuisance friend that tagged along despite no one wanting him there, especially when the other four members of our usual group already have their own pairs.

It'd always worked well before now, the sixth of us going out together, because it worked in a similar fashion to a triple date. We were all there together but each of us had one person in particular to focus on, so no one ever felt left out.

I was feeling left out already and I hadn't even arrived yet, something had definitely changed.

When the vehicle finally pulled out to the curb I hesitated handing over my money, participating in a brief dash of small talk that I'd usually avoid like the plague. I hated talking to strangers, but even this man I'd never seen before in my life seemed more familiar than the one I'd spent the past eight years inseparable from.

Eventually I did have to get out though, considering there was only so long I could distract him while he was supposed to be on-call. I stumbled out onto the pavement, turning back to bid him farewell and jumping backward when he reared the engine. Perhaps I'd been holding him up more than I'd thought, maybe I'm a nuisance even to the lonely cab drivers no one ever pays attention to.

I sighed, messing with my hair as I turned and started down the street toward the address I'd been given. I wasn't sure why he hadn't just dropped me off out front, but I'd give the guy a benefit of a doubt. There was a chance he'd just been eager to kick me out and couldn't wait the extra few minutes.

The walk was good for me anyway, it gave me a minute to compose myself after getting out of the car rather than being faced with human interaction the second I stood. There was too much at stake right now to act on a whim, I needed to think this through.

I'd be casual about it, I didn't want to seem clingy. At the same time, I didn't want to seem too distant and let the chance at interaction slip right through my fingers. I would have to find a happy medium, approachable but not overbearing. God, when had I started putting so much thought into the way I act around Phil? It's like 2009 all over again, I'm the starstruck fan and he's the unattainable celebrity that's way out of my league.

Say the right things just the right way and you might have a chance to leave a lasting impression.

I looked up from the pavement I was scuffing my shoes against, eyes going wide when I spotted some familiar faces in the crowd. The group was lingering outside the cafe, likely waiting for me to show up, but try as I may I couldn't for the life of me spot Phil. He's as tall as a giant, you would think he'd be the very first one I'd notice. Is he somehow even later than I am after all the mishaps I'd faced?

"Hey guys!" I called, deciding to figure it out from the source rather than make assumptions. Chances are he was just too eager to get his hands dirty and rushed into sculpting rather than waiting around for my sorry ass.

Heads turned in unison, their conversation reaching a rather abrupt end as they all favored watching me approach. I jogged the rest of the way, breathless when I finally reached them and got the chance to look around the circle and study their expressions closer. Wow, I knew things with Phil might be awkward, but why are the rest of them staring at me like I'm an unwanted intrusion on their outing? They were the ones who invited me!

Marzia wore a prominent frown as she leaned into Felix's side, not even bothering to be discreet about it like Pj and Sophie were. At least they had the decency to lessen the blow and keep their expressions neutral. It still differed greatly from the usual excited greetings I would receive though, the ones where they'd pull me into numerous hugs. Then they'd chastise the way I never left the house to spend time with them, insist that they'd missed me far too much.

There was none of that this time, just a lot of empty gazes and silence.

"Dan." Pj spoke softly, his tone almost comforting. I lifted an eyebrow, laughing in disbelief. Why does he sound like that? Is this some kind of prank? Come to think of it, they all look like they're feeling rather sorry for me. Does my outfit look that tragic? Did I forget to style my hair or something?

"What's with the face?" I outright asked, narrowing my eyes at them. These people were supposed to be my closest friends, if they wouldn't tell me what was wrong then who could I trust? They still seemed to hesitate, looking around amongst the other members of the group as if trying to will someone else to be the one to break the news. I was on the verge of demanding some answers when a shrill scream from behind them had me pushing through the group, feeling concerned.

There, on the sidewalk making their way toward our party, were two familiar faces. Only one of which I'd been expecting to see today.

Phil and Alex were walking down the street with hands held tightly, their joined arms swinging between them while their free ones sported ice cream cones. It was only a few seconds later as Alex stuck his tongue out insistently that I realized they weren't their own cones, that they were carrying the food belonging to the other so they could feed each other.

As Phil brought the ice cream to the boy's lips he moved too quickly, shoving it into his chin and making me stifle a satisfied laugh. It was far too easy to convince myself that this wasn't real, that somewhere beneath all the disgusting PDA on the surface they felt only hatred to each other. No couple should look that sickeningly happy when they're together, it just makes it look like they're compensating for other areas where their relationship falls short.

That must be what's going on. Phil settled for less than perfect because he was tired of going on failed dates, and because of that he's putting his all into making something work that just isn't meant to. This is all my fault for making him think that he had to find someone.

"Rude!" Alex laughed, trying to catch the ice cream dripping from his chin in his palm, glowering at Phil all the while. Phil who had thrown his head back, eyes lit with animated amusement, tongue poking out between his teeth in the way only I'd ever been able to prompt before.

His date didn't look nearly as entertained, swiping at the mess with the back of his hand. "God, this is a mess, we're gonna need so many tissues."

"That's what she said." Phil blurted immediately, reminding me of his younger self as he snapped back to attention at a moment's notice when he heard the chance to make an innuendo. In fact, the disgustingly cheesy way they looked at each other like they couldn't possibly get enough, that reminded me a lot of the way a younger Phil used to look at me.

When did that change? And why hadn't I missed it until now?

"Ew! You dirty bastard, you would take it that way!" The younger screeched, though he was very clearly amused by the poorly-planned joke, despite how outdated the content was. I mean, sure, Phil and I still made those type of jokes when we were together but that was only because it'd become a tradition of sorts. There were so many things that we'd done for so long that we couldn't bring ourselves to stop, even if acting that way around anyone else wouldn't be acceptable.

The fact that he was doing that with this kid he'd barely met, sharing one of our things with someone so vile, it was beyond hurtful. I felt it like a physical blow to the chest, knocking the breath right out of me as I stumbled back a step, eyes stinging. I could feel the concern of everyone surrounding me, Marzia's touch light as she settled a comforting hand on my back and Pj's voice solemn as he spoke up as leader of the group.

"So, should we head inside?"

"Yeah." Phil agreed without missing a beat, looking our way for the first time since I'd arrived. He seemed to get rather absorbed in their own little world when he was with Alex, something that irritated me a great deal more than it should knowing we'd probably been doing the same to everyone we spent time around when we were at our closest.

The laidback lazy smile on his lips faded out near instantly when he caught sight of the extra member in the crowd, eyes locking with mine and taking on an incredibly serious look. I managed a weak grin, lifting a hand to give him a tired wave. He seemed to debate how to react far longer than he should, but it was the insistent tug on his hand from the boy beside him that reeled him back into reality.

The cheerful disposition from earlier returned in an instant and he held up their intertwined fingers, bearing the embrace proudly. "Dan, this is my boyfriend Alex."

I nodded slowly, unsure how I was expected to respond. The me from a month and a half ago likely would have been overjoyed, this was what he'd been begging for all along. He was the reason Phil had gone looking for someone in the first place, this would have been a means for celebration to him.

It wouldn't have lasted though, I knew that now.

Even if these two had met the second I kicked him out of the apartment I knew it would have ended up this way. The loneliness would have set in sooner or later, as would the poorly contained bitterness that I felt toward the new man in my best friend's life. It's not like it's personal, no matter how many reasons I find to give light to the way I dislike him, it's obvious what's at the root of it all.

I'm jealous.

Jealous of the hand that gets to hold Phil's, jealous of the ears that get to listen to all of his strange ideas and interests like I used to, it's even starting to settle that I'm particularly jealous of the lips that get to kiss the man that meant so much to me.

It was too late to be realizing all of this now though, there weren't words a person could say to justify everything I've done these past two months. I can't force him from my life and then get mad when he continues to walk away. I begged him for this, didn't even allow myself to waver when he pleaded with me that he wanted to stay. What was I hoping for? That he'd continue to fight me on this for the rest of our lives? No one is that dedicated, not even him.

So I guess we've learned two new things about me today, so it wasn't entirely a wasted effort. Something good came out of this, a delayed pair of acknowledgments that needed to happen sooner or later. It's better that I realize now than when I'm old and it'll fill the remainder of my years with regret.

The first being that I'm a sorry excuse for a hypocrite, the type who offer the world the means for his own downfall and then somehow have the nerve to be upset when it comes around to bite him in the ass.

And the second being that said raging hypocrite is undoubtedly and unfairly in love with his best friend, not in the platonic way either.

"It's so nice to meet you officially! Phil's been telling me all about you." I nodded dazedly, still too lost in the swarm of newly realized feelings to partake in conversation. They weren't new altogether, not really, they'd been there all along despite my best efforts to pretend otherwise. It was just something else entirely to embrace them for the first time in years.

I spent months of my life trying to choke down these feelings and condition myself to believe I only saw him as a friend, imagine how upset past me would be to realize all of the effort had been for naught. All of the nights I'd stayed up crying and second-thinking my decisions, all of the fights where I'd pushed him away for my own good, even the effort I'd put into arguing with the fans who were too smart to fall for my lies seemed a waste.

"He made me watch some of your videos together actually, the ones with the whiskers." Alex continued, seemingly oblivious to the fact that I was hardly listening to the things he was saying. He lifted a hand to scratch at his chin thoughtfully. "What were those called again? 'Phil is not fit' or something?"

"You totally made that joke on purpose, you remember the names." Phil deadpanned, swinging his hip to shove Alex without having to use either of his occupied hands. The only problem was the pest just bounced right back, collapsing against his boyfriend's side and leaning into him with a self-satisfied laugh.

"Yeah, yeah, I remember the names."

"Well, we should go." Pj announced suddenly, grabbing hold of my arm and dragging me after him into the building, leaving the others in the dust behind us. I wasn't a total monster, I did have the common sense to feel bad about the way he was prioritizing me even over his own girlfriend, but at the same time I couldn't deny how thankful I was that he'd gotten me out of that situation. I wasn't sure how much longer I could look at the two of them together before I blurted something I couldn't take back.

Pj was quick to get us all seated at a large group table, doing all the talking for the group of us while everyone else engaged in small-talk. Well, I say everyone else, but it wasn't really every single person sat around the table. Phil and Alex were avidly swooning over each other, Marzia and Felix were quietly talking about what they were gonna make to Sophie, and I sat in utter silence huddled into Pj's side as he spoke with the waiter.

Our clay came quickly afterward, a series of excited plans being announced to the table as every couple dove into their project. I wanted to join in, but I couldn't think about anything other than the man sitting across from me. As much as my friends supported creative freedom, I somehow doubted that any of them would consider it normal if I sculpted a life-like imitation of my best friend.

Instead I ended up mashing my hands into the substance, not worrying about the end product but rather fooling everyone watching into believing that I was actually participating. I thought I was doing a rather good job, up until the point Pj leaned in close to whisper to me.

"What'cha making, Dan?" I froze, registering for the first time the awful mess I'd made of the workspace. Specks of clay dotted the table and the blob in my hands looked like a fossil of a mangled animal of sorts, the type of thing that could fuel nightmares.

The mess strayed into other people's sections too, though none of them seemed upset by this but the frustrated newbie glaring at me over Phil's shoulder. I didn't take the time to consider whether it was a good idea or not before glaring back, our eyes locking in a showdown of sorts.

Pj sighed beside me, lifting a hand to snap his clay-coated fingers in front of my eyes and break my moment with Alex. I groaned, turning to face him with an expectant look. He looked exasperated for a moment before taking a deep breath, clearly none too happy about repeating himself a second time around but smiling through it anyway. "Dan. What are you making?"

"A block of clay."

"Looks like you're already finished!" He beamed, keeping his voice low so no one else would overhear the exaggerated sentiment. I chuckled, making a mental note to properly thank him for all of his effort to comfort me, someday when I was capable.

"Yeah, that was easy." I concluded, looking back at my messy attempt at sculpting.

"I'm gonna head to the washroom, you wanna come with?" He asked, lifting his eyebrows in a way that made it clear how I should answer. He wanted to talk with me in private, which I couldn't blame him for considering he was probably getting quite worried at this point. I even planned on agreeing and allowing him to lead me off, but I got distracted by the series of giggles from across the table.

I knew it was a bad idea even as I started to turn my head, but I couldn't help but to look and see where the sound was coming from. I watched in rapt fascination as Phil and Alex laughed at each other, smearing clay on each other like it was a perfectly acceptable way to act in public. They were so absorbed in each other they didn't seem to care at all what anyone else thought. Especially not washed-up old best friend Dan, he didn't seem to matter in the slightest.

Why would he when Phil's found someone that can do everything he ever could and more?

"Dan?"

"Yeah, I need to wash my hands off anyway." I agreed, still not looking away from the scene in front of me even as I answered. Pj had to physically shove me out of the booth before I snapped back to reality and followed after him toward the washroom, rubbing the dusty clay off my hands as I walked. I was just about to enter the room ahead of him when a booming voice had me freezing, turning to face the red-faced employee.

"Sir! You don't wash your hands in the regular sinks, the clay will clog the drains! We have multiple signs around the shop, can't you read?"" I blushed, nodding obediently in hopes of evading the situation quicker. Everyone in the cafe had turned to stare, watching me get reprimanded like the idiot I was. Now that she'd mentioned it the signs all around the room were obvious, making me wonder how I'd missed them.

It wasn't until she put her hands on her hips and took a step closer to me that I realized she expected me to actually answer her question, only making me feel even more embarrassed as I struggled to form a response.

"I mean, I can, but I-" She shook her head, apparently not sated by the way I was stuttering excuses out. I hung my head, remembering a time when Phil had always been there to help me through confrontations with other people. He'd always been the one to order for me and handle all the professional talking, even when I'd messed up in situations like this one he would step in to make it easier on me.

His absence somehow felt worse than the embarrassing scenario altogether.

"It's fine, just rinse them off in that tub over there." She concluded, gesturing to the bright yellow tubs of water lining the wall just before you reached the washroom doors. Pj was standing in front of one of them, gingerly drying his hands off and making it clear how he'd fallen behind me. How did I miss those? How absorbed in my thoughts had I been the entire time we were here?

Come to think of it, how long had we been here? Everyone else seemed near finished their projects and I'd hardly registered anything that had happened during the outing. What awful company I must be right about now.

After thoroughly rinsing my hands and leaving Pj waiting and hovering around me awkwardly, I finally followed behind him into the other room. I was biting my bottom lip distractedly as I entered the room, nipping it much harder when he spun around to grab my shoulders and startled me. The door had hardly swung shut behind us and already he was going all crazy-eyes on me, he must be really worried.

"You okay?" He asked, tone making it clear I was expected to answer honestly. I debated ways to dodge the question, ultimately deciding the best way was to pretend I didn't know what he was talking about.

"I mean it was my own fault that I got yelled at, I should have read the s-" He groaned, shaking his head.

"Not that." He clarified, glaring at me. It was obvious that I hadn't fooled him and he knew that we were on the same page, getting frustrated with how difficult I was acting. "About Phil and his date, you're okay with that?"

"I mean, I was the one who told him to start dating." I huffed, moving to lean against the wall in case anyone opened the door and hit me with it. Pj followed my lead, situating himself against the wall beside me without ever taking his eyes off my frame. He didn't look all that convinced by my expert argument.

"Yeah, so?"

"So obviously I'm okay with him bringing a date along." I concluded, putting every ounce of acting skill I had into making it seem convincing. Somewhere between leaving the table and arriving where we were now, I'd made the formal decision that I wasn't going to tell him everything. I didn't want him to look at me with any more pity in his eyes than he already was, especially when I knew telling him wouldn't do any good.

There was nothing he could do for me now, telling him my troubles would only make another person feel bad in this awful mess of a situation. I wasn't so selfish to use him as a crutch when I could still stand on my own.

I chuckled, forcing a smile so large it made my cheeks ache. "What kind of hypocrite would I be if I wasn't? How low are your expectations of me, Peej?"

He studied my features closely for a moment before tipping his head back and staring up at the ceiling, laughing softly. I watched him, relaxing visibly upon deciding that he believed me this time.

"Guess I was just worrying too much, I should have known you'd be cool with it. You guys are so close, I'm sure he'd be able to tell if you weren't anyway." I choked, inhaling too quickly as I registered his words and the affect they had on me. Concern flooded his features as I took up a fit of coughing, his hand hovering over my back like he figured he might need to intervene somehow. I worked hard to even out my breathing, holding up a thumb so he'd know I'd be alright without help. He nodded, taking a step back and giving me space.

It's not that what he'd said should have caught me off guard, this was far from the first time I'd heard friends make the observation. It seemed everyone we knew just assumed Phil and I worked on the same wavelength, that we always understood exactly what the other was feeling. I guess they were half right, this was the first time I could remember where Phil didn't understand that there was something bothering me. I'd never been able to read him though, not even now. Sure, he looks happy, but how do you tell when you're dealing with someone who never lets the smile on their face falter?

There was just something in the way he'd said it that was bothering me, how confident he'd been in the fact that Phil would never do anything to make me uncomfortable. It was true, he was way too nice of a guy for that. The problem was that he couldn't have known, not after I'd done nothing but encourage this from the beginning. It's my own fault that he doesn't understand. I can't explain either, it'd only be cruel to make him feel bad about it now that he's found someone that means so much to him.

"Definitely, he'd know." I agreed, finally able to speak around the lump forming in the back of my throat. Pj grinned, nodding eagerly and clapping me on the back now, his comfort rather delayed. He turned to leave then, making it clear he'd only dragged me into the other room to have this exchange. He gestured for me to follow but I shook my head, slouching slightly against the wall. "I'll be out in a minute."

He hesitated, eyeing me closely before finally turning and heaving as he pulled the door open. He risked a final glance back at me before disappearing, leaving me alone.

I took a deep breath, lifting my hands to my face and rubbing at my eyes. I wasn't crying, not yet at least, but my eyes felt heavy with tears unshed and any relief was welcome.

I spent a long minute like that before deciding I was too out in the open, walking into one of the stalls and settling against the closed-lid of the toilet. My eyes were really starting to sting now and I was in the middle of debating how much time I'd have for a leisurely cry when a sudden and obnoxious creak sounded throughout the room.

I scrambled to pull my feet up onto the seat with me, staring at the closed door of the stall while the other continued to creak in protest as someone pushed it open. I had to admit I was almost hoping it was Pj coming back to check on me, even that would be preferable to a total stranger coming across me now in this sorry state.

"Phil! You've got me soaking wet!" I froze as I recognized the voice, completely unmoving save for the sole tear that had managed to get past the defenses I'd put into place on a moment's notice. The sound of loud clopping footsteps sounding as presumably Alex crashed into the room. There was a sudden pause then, followed by a long whine. "Don't you dare make that face at me, that was not meant in an innuendo way."

"You're so cute when you're all flustered, can you really blame me for wanting to see that more?" That was Phil without a doubt, using the same disgustingly sweet tone he would pull when he used to flirt with me. The only difference being that this meant something and that had meant nothing. What a difference it would have made if he'd been taking it seriously, maybe I would have realized my feelings before now.

"Yes! I literally can!" The sound of a sink being turned on followed his outburst, along with some rather abrupt splashing. Something told me the abundance of water was not landing in the sink and rather splattering across the floor and anyone standing nearby, though that was probably the plan considering how childish the man we were dealing with was. He was exacting revenge for whatever measly amount of water Phil had accidentally gotten on him while they were rinsing their hands free of clay, I'm sure.

"Splash me one more time and I'm drowning you in that sink." His tone was sarcastic, but for a brief selfish moment I found myself wishing it wasn't. What kind of person am I to wish anyone to say such things with any sense of sincerity? I'm not thinking straight anymore, too heavily influenced by the newly unfiltered feelings coursing through my system.

"I'm leaving you in here by yourself for that comment!" Alex huffed, tone outwardly offended. He didn't receive anything in lieu of response for a moment, the only sound in the room that of Phil scrubbing his hands clean. Then there were receding footsteps followed by a door creaking open, a reply only presenting itself just before the door clicked shut.

"Don't ruin our creature while I'm away!" I was somehow doubtful that the entire message managed to get across before the window of time closed, but Phil didn't seem too upset given that he just went right back to messing with the sink. I cautiously got to my feet, leaning against the stall as I peered through the crack between the door.

He was distracted, still washing his hands with so much soap I could spot the suds from here. He didn't look like he was really all that concentrated on the task though, not even watching it but rather holding his own gaze in the mirror. I wondered what he was thinking about, leaning closer and cursing quietly when I brushed the door and it swung open loudly. Figures I'd choose the one stall with a broken lock.

Phil snapped back to attention at that, blinking and locking eyes with me in the mirror before I had the chance to shrink out of sight again. I gulped, giving a shaky smile and a small wave.

"Oh, hey." He laughed, addressing me directly rather than looking right through me for what felt like the first time in ages. I stumbled forward, losing my inhibitions by the second. He watched as I approached, grabbing a handful of paper towel and starting to dry off his hands. "Long time no see."

I came to a stop in front of him, not leaving more than a foot between us. That had always been the normal up until now, but the difference was obvious. He looked uncomfortable with the closeness, flattening himself back against the edge of the sink. I stood taller, convincing myself that I had to get through this. This was my only chance to get some answers out of him.

"You never told me about Alex." He lifted an eyebrow, still trying to feign casual despite the obvious signs stating otherwise. Usually he was so good at hiding how he felt the act was seamless, now it seemed choppy and amatuer.

"I didn't want to jinx it before we had a 'fair shot'." Briefly I could recall using that very same term in the past, frowning slightly as I was once again reminded of the fact that this was all my fault. I could have prevented it, at least for a few years until he realized for himself that there was so much better out there.

"He seems nice."

"He is." Phil agreed as soon as I finished speaking, hardly waiting until then. He seemed defensive, like I'd planned on tacking more onto the end of that sentence. It wasn't often that he took on intimidation as a method of getting his way, which only meant one thing; he must really like this guy.

"Like, 'marriage material' kinda nice, or?" I didn't mean to ask the question, it just sort-of slipped out without my permission. It was out there now, meaning my only option was to hope he hadn't heard it and make myself look as small as possible. I looked down at my feet, holding my breath.

"Why are you so determined to marry me off, Dan Howell?" He didn't sound impressed, though he was trying wholeheartedly to make it seem like he was only teasing. It was an utter mockery of the nonchalance we'd had talking about these things in the past, something had definitely changed for the worse.

Realizing that he wasn't fooling anybody with that act, he sighed softly and stepped closer to me. He seemed to debate it for a long moment before settling a hand on my upper arm, the touch so feather light it felt ghostly.

He cleared his throat, finally giving me a genuine answer to the question. His tone was serious now, but at least it was honest. "I don't know, we've only just started dating, there's no way to tell where it'll go from here."

I thought about what he'd said carefully, unable to fight the underlying urge to have a more specific answer. I just wanted to know if he was serious about this, that's all. I need to know how much is at stake if I don't manage to get my emotions under control again.

"But like, say he asked you to marry him right now, would you consider?"

"He wouldn't."

"Say he did?" Phil groaned, shrugging his shoulders and slapping his hands back down against his sides. He looked to be at a loss as to what to say, like he was struggling to decide for himself. It's a yes or no question, that's all I'm asking for. I need to know whether it's worth trying or I should start suppressing things right this instant.

He was watching me twice as close, narrowing his eyes as he raked them over my features. Something he saw there seemed to help lead him toward his decision, voice distanced as he muttered the answer I'd asked for but hadn't really wanted to hear.

"I'd tell him to try again in a few years and then maybe I might say yes." I nodded distractedly as he spoke, a rushed jerky movement I hoped he would mistake as a response when I felt so incapable of actually forming a real one. What was I supposed to say to something like that? To the confirmation that everything I'd gone through to accept my feelings had been futile. It didn't matter, not in the end. There was someone better out there, just like I'd always told him there would be.

And the award for friend of the year goes to Dan Howell, for putting everything he needed to scrape by on hold to make sure the person he cared about most could have the world.

"That's good, Phil, I'm glad to hear it." I tried really hard to make it sound genuine, but there was only so much I was capable of. The strain in my my voice was evident, the words were heavy on my tongue like they were experiencing traction, determined not to leave my lips despite the way I tried to push them forward. I wanted so badly for circumstances to be different, for my words to mean something.

Naturally, Phil didn't understand the struggle I was facing even if the battle was obvious. He seemed worried but uncertain how to show it anymore, instead settling for gripping my arm tighter and digging his nails into me through the fabric.

"You're being so weird about all of this." What he chose to say contrasted the way he was acting entirely, like he was trying to verbally dismiss it all whilst still fervently clinging on with his physical grip. It would have been easier if he could just make up his mind, either hold me wholly or let me go.

He released my arm just as his vise-grip started to feel bruising, in turn allowing me to release the breath I hadn't been aware I as holding. I inhaled deeply, lifting a hand to clamp loosely over the spot he'd just been holding. How I longed for the days when he could touch me without igniting a wildfire of desire in the pit of my stomach. "Do you wanna go out this weekend?"

"I-" I was about to come up with an excuse, lie that I had plans and couldn't attend, but I thought better of it. This was what I'd been desperate for, a chance to spend time with him again like we used to. Things might be tense now, but his new boyfriend is in the other room, it might be different if just the two of us go somewhere together. "I'm free whenever."

"Great." He seemed relieved, smiling softly as he started to turn toward the door again. I followed after him a step behind, my pursuit only pausing when he continued speaking in a quiet indifferent tone. "I really want you and Alex to become close, I feel like you two would get along really well."

"He's coming too?" I questioned, unable to keep from voicing my shock. I'd been under the impression that this was meant to be a day for just the two of us, a chance to play catch-up and work out all the kinks in our friendship that had formed over the past month or so.

"Yeah? Is that a problem?" He questioned carefully, like he was daring me to say something. I paled, checking my head and nervously looking down to pick at my nails. I couldn't look him in the eye anymore, not when I feared he might see right through my lie.

"N-No, it's just gonna be awkward being the third wheel." The sound he made in response was a cross between a sigh and a humorless chuckle, like he'd been let down by my answer. Had he wanted me to challenge him on this? It was almost like he wanted me to fight him on it and make things even more rocky between the two of us. Is he just so tired of me he's looking for ways excuses to cut me out of his life entirely?

"You're the seventh wheel right now and you seem to be managing." He beamed, tone far more closed-off and difficult to read than what it'd been moments before. It didn't make sense, I'd been so careful not to say something that would offend him and yet he's somehow disappointed all the same. Is there any way for me to make him happy again?

He lifted a hand to settle it atop my head, mussing up my hair in a way that would have earned him a harsh scolding any time before this instant. I'd always hated having my hair messed up in public and he'd done it frequently to bother me, but given the distance between us right now it didn't seem like such a light gesture.

As he pulled back and locked eyes with my worried ones, something seemed to shift in him. For a fraction of a second I could almost see a frown tugging down the corners of his lips, though he was quick to nip it in the bud and have it replaced with a wolfish leer. He looked scary, nothing about him seemed familiar now. "Bring someone if you like, I don't care."

I nodded dumbly, watching with a blank slack-jawed expression as he turned and strolled out of the room, not even looking back once. I turned away before the door swung shut behind him, a fleeting feeling telling me that it'd be way too final to watch the conversation meet such a blatant end. I didn't want to leave things like this, not even for a minute more, but seeing that he couldn't care less about the uneasy terrain we were walking on would be too much to bear.

Then again, what would it matter when he'd outright admitted to as much just seconds before?

"He doesn't care." I scoffed, hands balled into fists and trembling at my sides. I was blinking rapidly and I couldn't tell if it was in an effort to see through tears or the red-hot seething anger I felt toward him for acting like such an inconsiderate jerk. This wasn't the man I knew, he was supposed to care. He was supposed to make me feel like I mattered.

I wrenched my eyes shut altogether, stumbling over to where Phil had stood at the sink moments before. My eyes fluttered open just in time to catch myself letting out a muffled sob in the mirror, the force of the cry wracking my frame and causing me to buckle over the counter to support my weight.

The sound that followed was a bitter bout of laughter, the type that could make everyone in the room uneasy. "Of course he doesn't fucking care."

"Are you sure you're okay?" I blinked, looking over my shoulder and staring wide-eyed at the other person in the room. There was no way someone could have opened that door without alerting me they were coming, it was way too loud. The only way Pj could have slipped in here undetected was if he'd ducked in after Phil had left, just before it'd closed and just after I'd looked away from the scene.

I sighed, looking back at the mirror and studying the frazzled boy standing before me. I hardly looked like an adult, I looked like a kid who needed sheltering, an impressionable and easily influenced pre-teen that didn't know how to stand on his own despite shoving everyone that would try to help him away. I was a hypocrite, a walking contradiction of myself.

"Am I okay?" I muttered, sniffling quietly as I shook my head. "Not really."

"Oh, Dan."

--

I was in the middle of hurriedly handing over my change to the woman behind the counter when my phone went off, buzzing insistently in my pocket. I stuttered over my words horribly as the feeling startled me, doing exactly what I'd feared and making myself look like an idiot in front of the stranger.

She didn't comment, just continued to bag my groceries with a blank zombie-like expression. I blushed, hesitantly taking each bag from her hands before turning and rushing toward the doors. I didn't want to look back on that particular exchange ever.

It wasn't all that often that I put myself in a position to make such blunders, usually sending Phil out whenever I needed something from the shops. Recently I'd had to change the routine though, settling for a combination of going out to buy things and ordering them directly to the apartment. It'd be a blatant lie to say I wasn't already calculating ways to leave home even less after that.

It was only after getting out of the store that I thought to check my phone, raising my eyebrows at the name attached to the message. The message itself shocked me even more though, my eyes going comically wide at the text.

From: Phil. Sent: 6:26pm

"You bringing anybody tonight?"

It's not that I'd forgotten we were supposed to be going to a movie tonight, truthfully it'd been on my mind so much I often caught myself wishing I could forget. No, the problem lies in the fact he hasn't mentioned it even once since the moment he'd suggested it. In fact, we haven't even talked since the exchange we had in that washroom. I was under the impression plans had changed, that he'd been able to forgot about the offer without trouble, unlike me.

I bit my lip, debating excuses to get me out of attending. Of course I missed him, if circumstances were even slightly different I'd be dropping everything and dashing toward the theater now, to make sure I was early enough to get us the best possible seats. I just couldn't handle the thought of sitting next to him and knowing that the preferred company would be seated on his other side. I felt outdated and inadequate in comparison to Alex, who seemed to have every quality I had and more. He certainly seemed to have more of Phil's affection, that's for sure.

Still, I had agreed that I would go. It's not polite to cancel so last minute, maybe it'll be good for us to go out together. If there's a chance that we can fix things I have to take it, no matter how small.

To: Phil. Sent: 6:28pm

"No, I'm coming alone."

I answered the question despite how lame it made me feel to admit to as much. There had been a fleeting moment where I'd been considering finding someone to take along, just for the sake of proving that I was capable of finding someone, but I'd since thought better of it. I wasn't trying to prove anything to Phil, it wouldn't help and it wouldn't be fair to the person I got involved with. It was petty to even consider.

I started to pocket my phone, figuring that it'd take him a minute to get back to me, but instead it started to buzz in my palm before I could finish. I lifted an eyebrow, opening the new message.

From: Phil. Sent: 6:29pm

"Wanna come over to my place now instead of meeting at the theater?"

I gulped, unimpressed with the way my heart started to race at the thought alone. I didn't want to get my hopes up too high, not when I knew it wouldn't be even close to what it was the last time I'd been invited over to his apartment. It was going to be different, it wouldn't be just the two of us anymore.

To: Phil. Sent: 6:29pm

"Sure, needa run groceries home first but then I'll head out."

This time I waited for him to text back his confirmation before pocketing the device and going back to trying to spot the driver I'd called for in the sea of cars currently inhabiting the parking lot. There was a newfound spring to my step that hadn't been there previously, one that I had a sneaking suspicion had an awful lot to do with the conversation I'd just had.

The drive home seemed to creep by at a snail's pace now that I had something to look forward to so avidly, my knee bouncing as I asked the driver time and time again if he could manage going any faster. Eventually we did reach our destination and I bid him farewell, hurrying up the steps to drop off all of the things I'd just bought. Truthfully I just wanted to toss them onto the floor the second I walked through the door, but I forced myself through the task of putting everything away properly.

After that I didn't even bother to change into something nicer before darting out of the house, hair unkempt and eyes sporting prominent dark circles. It's not like I was headed to the runway or anything, the Phil I used to know would never judge a person for their appearance, I hoped the same would still apply.

If I'd thought the drive home to be unbearable I had no way of knowing how much worse the drive to his place would be. All of the impatience from before now paired with a growing sense of anxiety the closer we got to our destination, it was a wonder the driver didn't kick me out of the car for all of the nervous offhanded comments I made without thinking.

As it was he didn't even try to hide how relieved he was when we finally pulled up in front of the set of apartments, though I couldn't really hold it against him considering I was equally as thrilled to step out of the car knowing what was waiting for me inside.

I was careful to take the elevator this time, uncertain if I wanted to pass by the same stairwell I shared such an awful history with. This meant I arrived in front of his door much quicker than expected though, leaving me to hum and haw for a long moment before my knuckles every grazed the surface. Even then I didn't receive a response, meaning I had to repeat the nerve wracking action a few more times.

To: Phil. Sent: 7:23pm

"I'm here, answer your door!"

I glared at the wooden panels as I sent the message, like I could somehow force them to grant my wishes without ever having to get him involved. Thankfully he seemed just as invested as I was for updates, replying near immediately.

From: Phil. Sent: 7:23pm

"It's unlocked, just let yourself in."

Something about this particular invitation set off a lot of red flags in my introvert mind, reminding me of all the things that could go horribly wrong when inviting yourself into one's home, but I forced myself to stop thinking about it. He'd invited me technically, even if he wasn't there to greet me.

I turned the knob, clenching my jaw and hesitantly creaking the door open a crack.

"Phil? You gotta promise me I'm not gonna walk in on anything scarring if I walk through this door." I called into the apartment, receiving nothing in lieu of an answer. This wasn't exactly helping me deter the earlier concerns, but I decided to go through with it anyway and shoved the door open the rest of the way in one smooth shove.

The very first thing I registered were a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at me on the other side, soft and approachable in a way they hadn't been in a long time. Next thing I knew I was being wrapped up into a bone-shattering embrace, crushed against his chest as he hugged me to him with all the force he was capable of. I didn't even have it in me to protest, no matter how uncomfortable it left me, it was worth every bruise to be close to him again without walls between us.

I smiled, letting my head drop to lean against his shoulder. "Well, hello to you too."

"Did I really make you cry?" He whispered, voice a hollow shell of his usual energetic quips.

"What?"

"Pj, he told me that I made you cry but wouldn't tell me what I did wrong." I had to admit I breathed a shallow sigh of relief knowing that our mutual friend hadn't spilled all the details to him. After admitting that I wasn't really doing all that great to Pj, I'd gone on to fill him in on everything that had been going on between the two of us. It was therapeutic to be able to tell someone else about all the newfound emotions, but at the same time it seemed like I had been holding my breath ever since waiting to see if he'd go behind my back to tell Phil my secrets.

Before now I'd never really had anything that I wanted to keep private from my best friend, there was no way for me to tell how other people would react to knowing things they weren't supposed to share between us.

Phil pulled back suddenly, locking his gaze with mine and offering a weak forced smile. "He was so mean about it too, like I was some awful person for whatever I did. I'm really sorry."

"Hey, it's okay." I laughed, deciding to cast away my skeptical outlook and admit that he was being genuine about this. He had no reason to lie about this, it couldn't possibly get him ahead. He just seemed upset, act or not my instincts were telling me to comfort him through it.

Sadly, I hadn't been too sure about how trustworthy he was when I'd first arrived, leaving me to hesitate before answering. It was just such a sudden and major shift from the way he'd been when I'd last talked to him. It hardly even seemed like the same guy.

"I was just having an off day, that's all." I excused my prior actions quickly, blushing as I looked away from his focused stare. He didn't seem entirely convinced, eyeing me closely before continuing, a hesitant drawl to his words as he spoke up again.

"Anything I can do to help? Wanna talk about it?" I shook my head rapidly, earning myself a soft chuckle in response as he understood what I meant by that perfectly. It was still beyond me, how he could offer to help without ever needing to know the details of what he was comforting me through. I appreciated it though, more and more as time went by and the things that bothered me grew harder and harder to discuss with him.

Immediately considering the topic closed following my negative reaction, he didn't say anything more about it. He turned toward the lounge without any questions asked, humming softly as he made his way across the room.

I followed after him, lingering in the doorway as he fell onto the couch. He dug his phone out of his pocket and started to type, leaving me to awkwardly look around the room and notice that something was most definitely missing. I was about to ask questions when he spoke up before I had the chance, as if reading my mind.

"Alex isn't here yet, he's running a bit late." I gave an understanding nod, trying not to feel bitter about the way he'd brought the other party up. Sure, I'd been on the brink of asking about him anyway, but for him to assume I cared was a different thing entirely.

"I see." He went right back to playing on his phone then, looking like he suddenly found the tension between us difficult to face again and would rather a distraction. It didn't make sense how he kept bouncing back and forth on the spectrum, leaving me with no idea where I stood. "Do you mind if I use your washroom?"

"Go ahead." He beamed, pointing toward the hall for me like there was a chance I would have forgotten how to get there in the weeks since I'd last visited. I followed his directions, darting into the washroom and shutting the door behind me, falling back against it with a sigh.

I was starting to wonder if coming here tonight had been such a good idea after all.

Even without Alex here I found looking at Phil made me ache with a deep-rooted jealousy. Not even for the new relationship he had with someone else, but for the one we'd once had. Looking around the apartment brought back memories despite the short time he'd spent here, all of which contrasting completely to the ones we were making now. Things between us were different, on both sides. I wasn't sure if we could ever go back to the way things used to be and admitting that hurt deeply.

I sighed, deciding that I'd spent long enough brooding in my friend's bathroom. The last thing I wanted was to have him start asking questions, I wouldn't be able to lie if he outright interrogated me. There'd never been a time that I could look him in the eyes and deceive him. He was too naive, too trusting, it made me feel like I was taking advantage of everything good about him.

I turned to leave, freezing when my eyes fell on the bright colors settled on the edge of the sink. Two. There were two toothbrushes in his holder. That's how close they are, they must practically live together to have these little marks on each other's dwellings. I imagine if I looked closer I could find other signs of Alex's presence throughout the apartment, but truthfully I didn't want to know.

I didn't want the reminder that he was such a bigger part of Phil's world than I was, because I could remember a time when I'd been his whole damn universe.

"Stupid jerk." I grumbled as I left the room, only to plaster a smile on my face as I approached Phil again, careful to seem much more enthusiastic. He looked up as I entered the room, gesturing around the room and silently inviting me to sit down. "Is he still not here?"

"Nope, not yet." He answered, looking back to his phone. I wondered then if he was waiting to hear from the other, making me feel vaguely guilty. Here I was overjoyed by his lack of participation and it could be crushing Phil. What kind of friend am I? No wonder he wanted me out of his life, I still don't deserve him.

I looked around the room, debating the different options for where to sit. Despite knowing my best option would be the chair furthest away from Phil, especially if I wanted to try and calm my emotions, I found myself headed toward the couch he was seated on.

I fell down beside him, half on-top of him in a way similar to how he used to sit with me. He didn't even look up from his screen to acknowledge me, though I could feel the way his muscles tensed against my side. Had I made him uncomfortable with the closeness? Maybe I should move... "It's starting to look like it might just be the two of us tonight."

I jumped, surprised by the sudden comment. I turned to look at him, realizing only after doing so just how close we really were. While before this might have made me feel flustered and giddy, now it only seemed to sting. We were close on a fluke because I acted without thinking, he never would have allowed this on his own terms.

"Aw, that's too bad." The words were calculated, obviously rehearsed mentally before I'd ever dared to answer him aloud. It didn't matter though, not really, because he was still so invested in whatever was on his phone to notice the specifics of the reply or our close proximity.

"Right? He didn't even tell me he might not make it." He muttered, pouting slightly and making me feel bad about how far from genuine my own disappointment had been. He was quick to shake it off though, gently scooting out from beneath me to get to his feet. "Oh well, it can't be helped! Let's get going so we can get there before the crowd."

He turned back to me once he was standing, surprising me when he held out a hand to help me up. I took it, ignoring the way my skin seemed to burn where we were touching.

"Alright."

--

"I asked you if you wanted popcorn and you said no." Phil grumbled, glaring at the offensive hand currently sneaking into his bucket of food. I rolled my eyes, snatching a handful anyway and sticking my tongue out at him as he attempted to reprimand me with the look alone.

"Only because I knew you'd get one big enough for two people anyway." I commented, freezing when someone in the row ahead of us looked over their shoulder to shush our conversation. Phil and I exchanged matching looks of annoyance before obediently turning back to the screen and actually paying attention to the film, albeit begrudgingly.

Any other time Phil would likely be complaining the same way about my habit of talking over movies, but something had shifted on our drive to the theater. With talk of Alex thoroughly behind us, it was a lot easier to pretend he wasn't an issue altogether. It started out awkward small talk, but without the dark cloud looming over our conversations they were quick to develop into something more intense. Before we knew it we were filling each other in on everything we'd been doing when we weren't together, the pair of us chatting so constantly about our personal lives that the driver seemed uncomfortable having to listen in.

We'd been so invested in each other we hadn't even stopped the discussion as we entered the building, nor as we waited in line to get our tickets. It wasn't until the viewing room filled up with other people wanting to actually hear the movie that we started to whisper instead, eventually being glared at so many times we resigned to just exchanging knowing looks until we could speak again.

If anything the pause was probably for the best, it gave me a chance to think over all the information we'd just thrown at each other. Or, even more accurately, think about what it meant to throw so much information at each other. We were back to normal, or at least as close to it as possible given how much had changed. It was such a relief after wondering if we would ever be able to talk to each other freely again, I felt like I was on cloud nine rather than a dirty old folding theater seat.

"I can't believe that movie made you cry." Phil commented as the credits finally starting to roll across the screen, giving us both permission to start spilling all the things we'd wanted to say throughout the film. I snorted, wiping at the tears with my sleeve. It wasn't even that tragic of a movie, if anything it'd ended quite happy, it was just watching the struggle of the protagonists and the bright conclusion they finally reached that had affected me. I found myself trembling in my seat with how passionately I wanted things between Phil and I to work out the same.

Even if we don't end up kissing and running off into the sunset like that couple, I'd be content to just settle for this. I'd rather have him as a friend than nothing at all.

"I've gotten way sappier since you moved out, clearly." I responded after finally getting a hold on myself, the majority of the room having already cleared out. Phil was patiently waiting though, leaning forward so he could look up at me as I struggled to compose myself. He was the first to stand, offering me a hand the same way he had earlier at his house. Of course I jumped on the chance to be close to him, only to regret it immediately when the familiar offer turned into something different entirely.

He didn't let go.

Even after we were both standing and sturdy on our feet, he kept his hand clamped around mine as he led the way out of the aisle we'd chosen. I stared in disbelief at where our hands were joined as we walked down the stairs, only looking up when he broke our hold just before leaving the empty room. He looked over his shoulder and offered an apologetic smile as he did so though, making it clear he'd only done it because he had to.

Which made sense, if he hadn't I probably would have had to bring myself to do it in the end. We couldn't have fans spotting us like that and jumping to conclusions. Then again, considering I had no idea what was going on between us anymore who's to say the fans wouldn't be completely accurate in their assumptions?

As soon as we'd thrown out our trash he was quick to dismiss himself to the washroom, earning himself a knowing look as he'd insisted on buying the largest drink available earlier. He ignored it though, turning and going off on his own as I absentmindedly wandered into the arcade. It was filled with teenagers for the most part, but I found a back corner with some of the 'lame' games that no one else was actively queued to play.

I didn't intend on playing any, I was just killing time until Phil came back, but as my eyes fell on a particular prize in the claw machine my breath hitched.

I stood there debating whether it was worth attempting the rigged machine for a long moment, long enough for Phil to return and settle a hand on my shoulder to reel my attention back in. I turned to grin at him, shoving his hand away only to grab hold of his shirt sleeve and tug childishly on it.

"Phil."

"What?" He asked, chuckling at my obvious excitement. I turned back to the machine, pointing to the stuffed toy pressed uncomfortably close to the glass. I stifled an exaggerated reaction, deciding that I'd be better off feigning calm. We had just recently gotten close again, I wanted to be careful about how I annoyed him now.

"It's a shibe!" I announced proudly, risking a sideways glance to try and discreetly gauge his reaction. I just wanted his opinion on whether it was worth trying the game or not. I didn't want to start playing in the arcade and leave him annoyed as he waited to leave. He surprised me though, a widespread smile similar to my own engulfing his features.

He pried my fingers off of his sleeve then, only to make a big deal out of rolling them both up, like he was getting ready for a fight. He turned to me, completely ignoring my questioning gaze and flexing his muscles, or lack thereof.

"Alright, step back, Danny, get ready to watch me work my magic." Both of my eyebrows shot up in confusion at this questionable comment, watching as he took to giggling at the reaction. He finished and retrieved his serious expression from earlier, throwing an arm around his shoulders as he pointed in the same direction I had moments before. "I'm about to win that for you."

"Sure you are." I scoffed, looking away from him with my head held high. He seemed to think it was because I was skeptical that he was capable, immediately rushing forward to start throwing his money into the machine. It was probably for the best that he interpreted it that way, all it would have taken was a glance in the direction I'd just dodged to see that I was only trying to hide my burning blush.

Who did he think he was offering to win me things like that? Doesn't he realize how cheesy that is?

The gesture became steadily less cute the more attempts he made however, to the point that eventually my blush was replaced with a scowl as he insisted he was going to get it with just one more try each time. He never did, a good twenty minutes passing before I finally commented out loud.

I groaned dramatically, leaning my full weight against him and nearly knocking him off his feet. He held his ground though, somehow still managing to play the game while holding up another person.

"Just give up, we're gonna be here all night." I whined, dropping my head onto his shoulder to stare at the bright flashing lights displayed by the game as they announced his defeat yet again. The amount of freebie consolation prizes he had in the bag at his feet was tragic, yet he still silently deposited the new addition with the rest of them.

He grabbed the empty drink cup I'd set down on top of the godawful machine, shoving it in my direction along with a bank card.

"Go get yourself a refill, if I don't have it by the time we're back I'll call it quits." I didn't plan on taking the offer but he wouldn't take no for an answer, continuously shoving the items at me until I snatched them out of his hand with a growl of sorts. I stared at him expectantly until he looked in my direction. He misinterpreted the look of utter loathing I was suiting him with for confusion, nodding toward the things in my hands. "You know my pin, I haven't changed it or anything."

Something about that comment was so cute I found myself turning away and starting toward the concession stands despite my previous plans to outright refuse in an effort to cut him off of the game. He hadn't changed his pin, despite the fact we hadn't been talking and our relationship had been questionable at best. He still trusted me, through it all.

It didn't take all that long to grab a drink and an abundance of chocolate, deciding that spending a bit more of his money than offered was good compensation for all of my time he'd just wasted. I ran into a fan on the way back, having to take a photo with them despite the armful of stuff I was carrying. They asked about Phil and I lied that I didn't know where he'd gone off to, selfishly not wanting anyone else to intrude on our limited alone time.

I felt bad about it, right up until the second I spotted Phil leaning against the machine from earlier. It was definitely for the best, if a fan witnessed my reaction right at that moment they would have saw right through me in a way that Phil somehow still couldn't.

He looked adorable, a frustrated pout on his lips and his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket. I sidled up to him with a grin, leaning against the machine beside him and offering a chocolate bar to him. He took it, glowering at the 'I told you so' way I was looking at him.

"Still a failure, huh?" I asked, sniggering under my breath. He glared at me, turning away in annoyance as he tore open the wrapper of his chocolate bar. I was about to look away in the opposite direction when he spun back around, grinning devilishly as he held up a familiar toy.

"Not quite!" He beamed, shoving the stuffed dog at me with all the excitement of a child. I struggled to grab hold of it in his rush to hand it over, thankfully managing by dropping two of my chocolate bars onto the floor. He bent over to pick them up as I held the toy and gaped at it, disbelief written into my features.

He jumped back to his feet, still grinning proudly as he stuffed the chocolate bars into his pocket. He was very clearly waiting on some form of thanks, but all I could manage was to look up at him and allow my jaw to drop.

"Phil!" I blurted finally, leaning forward to land a playful punch to his shoulder. He stumbled back a step before bouncing back twice as quick, getting closer to me if anything. I shook my head, laughing as I hugged the toy to my chest. "How did you get this?"

His smile faltered at that and for a moment I worried that I might have said the wrong thing and sent us back to square one, but the guilty look he wore as he stared down at the floor between us told me exactly why the question bothered him.

"I didn't win it exactly... I might have paid one of the workers an outrageous amount to give me one out of their stock."

"You're such a cheater." I sighed, though I didn't have it in me to sound genuinely chastising. He was too cute, the way he was giving me puppy dog eyes in a poor attempt at begging for forgiveness. I decided it wasn't worth rubbing it in and making fun of him for his methods, instead choosing to be flattered that he'd gone through all of that trouble for me of all people. "I love it, Phil, thank-you."

"You're welcome!" He looked like he'd been just waiting to say this, practically shining as he stood tall and proud. I chuckled, shaking my head at his antics and muttering about leaving soon. He took the hint, not lingering on the sappy moment any longer in hopes of not embarrassing me further. He led us both out of the building, swinging a bag full of cheap toys he'd won through each of his failures.

We decided to take the tube home rather than call a driver, secretly just looking for more time to talk as we walked our way to the nearest station. At this point we'd completely caught up on each other's lives and what we'd been up to recently, now choosing to talk about the things we would have before all of this happened. They were random topics, we seemed to bounce back and forth between them it almost gave me whiplash. It was like we were both desperate to make the most of the time we had left together before the end of the night, an unspoken mutual hesitance to end the outing in fear of things going back to the way they'd been before.

It seemed like only seconds before we reached the station, the pair of us lingering behind as everyone else rushed to get on. We were the last two to board, stalling for time until the last moment. We did eventually have to go though, the pair of us approaching the doors together and still chatting all the while. Last second his arm snuck around my waist, surprising me as he tugged me into his side and led us both through the doors at the same time. He spoke under his breath as he did so, just loud enough for me to hear. "Mind the gap."

He moved to let me go after that, only to receive a quiet mewl of protest as I held his arm in place with my own. At this point I didn't even care about the looks we got or the fans who might see, I just wanted to be near him. My time was running out before I had to give him up and hand him back over to the other man in his life, I'd be damned if I wasn't about to make the most of what I had.

He was shocked, that much was clear, but the comment he made was considerably more casual than the expression he wore. He tugged me closer to him as we settled into the rush crowd, swaying as the train took off. "You've been awfully clingy today."

"Missed you." I commented quietly, my tone bashful as I ducked my head to hide my face in his shoulder.

He hummed knowingly, lifting his free hand to run it through my hair. He followed that with ducking his own head, only to bury his face in the fluffy mess of my hair he'd just caused.

"I missed you too." He whispered, my eyes going wide at the serious way he spoke, sounding almost pained by the confession.

--

"Just invite yourself in, why don't you?" Phil laughed as I stumbled past him and into the apartment the second he'd unlocked it. I collapsed across his couch, grumbling incoherently. I listened as rushed around the apartment to put everything he'd bought away and get comfortable again, waiting until he'd settled in the seat opposite me to speak up.

"I don't want to go home, too tired."

"It's only a block away." He scoffed, as if impressed by the level of laziness I was displaying. When he didn't receive a response other than a disgruntled whine, he continued with his usual annoyingly bright chipper outlook. "I can even walk you there if you want me to."

"Will you stay with me once we get there?" I questioned into the couch cushion my face was currently pressed into. He hummed thoughtfully, clearly debating it and trying to recall what his plans for the following day were. I held my breath.

"Probably not, I have to-"

"Then no, I want to stay here." I huffed out on an exhale, turning my head so I could look over at him. I stretched my lips into a mockery of my normal smile, batting my eyelashes pleadingly. He didn't seem impressed, lifting a skeptical brow. "Please? I'll even sleep on the couch this time."

He sighed loudly, shaking his head at me. He rose to his feet, looking down at me as he ran a hand through his hair.

"You want anything to eat?" There it was, the indirect method of telling me that I'd gotten my way. It always came sooner or later, the man sucked at saying no to me. I grinned, thoroughly pleased with myself as I let my eyes fall shut. I could have passed out right then and there if it weren't for the fact I knew it'd be wasting my limited time with him.

"Maybe a hot chocolate or something." I mumbled, the words slurring together just enough to be noticeable. He left the room then, judging by the sound of his footsteps as they receded away. I started to slip out of consciousness more than once while he was gone, repeatedly catching myself and forcing my eyes open again for a few seconds. It was on one of these forced-awareness sessions that I spotted him in the seat across from me, realizing I'd been asleep when he came back.

He seemed relieved to see I wasn't completely passed out, reaching out to slide the mug on the coffee table closer to my side. He settled back in his chair as I sat up and took me first sip, the pair of us locking eyes over the rim of the mug. After I finished gulping down the drink I leaned back as well, shrugging my shoulders at the curious way he was still staring at me. "What?"

"There's something I have to tell you." He explained carefully, watching me closely as I processed the information. What did he have to tell me? Why does he look so serious? Doesn't he realize he can't drop big things on me when I'm half asleep?

He sighed, visibly struggling to find words. "I've been putting it off because I'm not sure how you're gonna react, but I can't keep hiding it from you any longer."

"What's this about?" I laughed, trying to gauge whether he was joking or not. His business-like approach didn't crack, a solemn tight-lipped smile just barely tracing his lips. Whatever he was about to tell me must be big. Fuck, I don't want to think about the big things he might feel the need to announce. He has so much power over me and he doesn't even realize, he could break me.

I cringed in on myself just thinking of the things he could be about tell me, looking down at my lap and noticing the way my hands were shaking where they clutched the mug. "He proposed, didn't he?"

"Dan." He sounded chastising, but I couldn't tell why. Was that his way of telling me I'm being entirely ridiculous jumping to that conclusion or his way of comforting me through the fact I'd guessed what was happening on my first try? The tension in the air is so heavy it's making it difficult to breathe.

The worst part is knowing that it's inevitable. Even if it's not happening now, even if it doesn't happen with this 'Alex' guy, it will happen. Someday, probably soon, there's going to be a conversation just like this one where he sits me down and breaks the news that he's gone. That I've lost him.

He'll marry some beautiful person far better fit for him than I am, someone positive and bright and everything I'm not. They'll have four kids and a dog, buy one of the stupid fixer-upper houses Phil is always talking to me about. And then they'll grow old together, they'll have their own lives together that give each other everything they need, there'll be no reason for me to be around anymore.

I'll be a chapter in their novel, a name mentioned in fleeting as they recall all the wrong turns they took before reaching their destination.

I jumped, blinking rapidly to fight off tears when the sound of an alarm going off had me jumping back to present time. Phil looked equally as shocked, digging the offending phone out of his back pocket and apologizing for ruining the moment profusely.

I watched closely as he registered what was on the screen, confused when he just stared blankly at it rather than turning the constant racket off and giving us some peace. He laughed then, a genuinely amused series of giggle and snickers that left me completely lost as to what was going on. Hadn't this been a serious moment?

"Sorry, I forgot I had an alarm set to go off at midnight and it turned out to be perfect timing." He explained as he finished laughing, making me wonder what kind of alarm he'd need at that hour. He tossed the phone at me then though, my eyes going wide as I jumped to catch it. I breathed a sigh of relief when it didn't fall to the floor, glaring at him for the careless action. He just urged me to look at the alarm though, like I was somehow going to find it just as amusing.

I flipped the phone over, dropping it onto the floor despite my earlier precautions when I read the text.

Two months have passed!! You can FINALLY move back in with Dan!!

I looked up from where his phone had just hit the wooden paneling with an unforgiving thud, thankful to find he looked nothing but understanding. I breathed a sigh of relief, allowing myself to consider what I'd just read now that I was certain Phil wasn't mad at me for my incompetence.

Today marked the two month anniversary since he'd left, how could I have forgotten something like that? There'd just been so much going on lately it was hard to keep up, the countdown on my own calendar had gone without updates for weeks now. Time had flown by, it was hard to believe how much had changed since we made this stupid deal.

Worse yet, I had no idea why he was showing me this. He said it was ironic, is that because he was about to break it to me that he doesn't intend on moving back in? Or, do I dare to hope that it might be because he was about to ask the opposite of me?

I looked back over at him, my breath catching in my throat when I found him already staring, a small nervous smile on his lips.

"I gave it a fair shot, I really did, it's just not what I want." He whispered, voice strained like he was having difficulty admitting this. He shrugged his shoulders, looking down at his lap. "I've known what I want for years now, no amount of experimenting is gonna change my mind."

"M-Me?" I stuttered, lifting a hand to point shakily to myself. He looked up through his fringe, laughing at the slack-jawed way I was gaping in his direction.

"Yeah, you." He chuckled, nodding slowly. He seemed to be gaining confidence, or at least admitting to himself that he couldn't get out of this situation without explaining himself better. I watched as he sat up and took a deep breath, very clearly preparing himself for what he was about to say.

I was struggling now, desperately trying not to get my hopes up despite the way all signs were pointing in the right direction. It'd just hurt so much worse if I believed him and then had the rug pulled out from underneath me when I was least expecting it. I squeezed my eyes shut as he started to speak, unable to look at him until it was over.

"Alex was never gonna come with us tonight. I just wasn't sure if you'd be as happy as I was that the deadline was here and there wasn't anyone else in the picture." I nodded, urging him to continue when he grew uncertain and trailed off. "That day when you met him you'd seemed so invested in whether I saw myself with him in the future, I didn't know how to break it to you that I was still counting down the days until I could stop kidding myself and go back home to you."

"So you lied?" I deadpanned, my eyes fluttering open again to gape at him. Here I was thinking myself to be a horrible friend for keeping so many things from him, only to find out he'd been doing the same all along. I would have been a bit annoyed at the irony if it weren't for the overwhelming relief that had just washed over me like a wave against the shore.

He wanted to come home, to me. He still considered me his home, it's not too late.

"It was getting so difficult toward the end, Dan, I wasn't sure that I could make it. I wanted to quit so badly, every time I saw you it hurt to go our separate ways at the end of the day." His voice was wavering now, getting more emotional with each word he spoke. It was clear how much he'd been struggling to deal with all of this on his own, even as he fessed up and struggled with the corresponding anxiety there seemed to be a sense of relief in his eyes as well. He was happy that it was over now.

He stood up suddenly, darting around the coffee table to sit next to me. Not as close as he usually would have though, leaving half the couch between us as he fell onto the opposite cushion and buried his face in his hands. "I was so scared that it'd end up being permanent, I had to start avoiding you altogether."

Things were starting to piece together and make sense, though I still found it hard to believe that so much had been going on from his point of view when I'd been completely oblivious. I thought he was having the time of his life, I didn't realize he was suffering alongside me.

"So when Peej told you about-"

"I felt so awful for lying to you and avoiding you, I really did." He blurted, not even giving me time to finish speaking before he was back to groveling. He leaned closer to me, though he still only managed to cover half of the space between us. "You're my best friend, I could never tire of you."

"I forgive you." I sighed, shoving him away as he leaned even closer. It was meant to be playful, but the more I thought about it after he was out of my immediate presence the clearer it became that I'd just been desperate to put space between us. Having him confess all of this while so close made it difficult to keep from considering the new potential in the air.

Things with Alex hadn't been serious, they weren't getting married by any means and I wasn't on the brink of losing him. It wasn't too late, I'd just been gifted a second chance to make sure that awful situation never became a reality. I could stop it from happening, if only I had the guts to.

"Yeah?" He beamed, grinning. I nodded slowly, debating my options. The first time I'd realized that I had feelings for him, I never thought it worth the risk. He was my best friend, any measly romantic notions I held toward him weren't worth sacrificing that for. It was better to have a little bit of him than ask for it all and lose that.

I knew the alternative now though, knew how wrong I'd been. I loved him as more than a friend, to pretend that I'd ever be truly sated with just that would be kidding myself.

"I forgive you, but we can't go back to how we used to be." He recoiled completely at that, backing up against the opposite end of the couch to stare at me in confusion. His eyes were wide and he hadn't even bothered to try and hide the way my words had hurt him.

"What?" He laughed, as if pleading with me to take it back and admit it'd only been some sort of sick sadistic joke. I didn't, no matter how tempting it was to go back on my word after seeing firsthand the pain that it'd caused. I had to do this and he had to understand why.

He didn't yet, not by any means. He was blinking away tears now, adding to the handful of times I'd seen him cry. "No, Dan, you can't tell me that now. You promised, after the two months were up, we would go back to normal and pretend none of this ever happened."

"I'm sorry." I whispered, scooting closer to him. He looked like he wanted to jump up and flee the room, but instead he stayed put and watched me closely.

"So what? I can't move back in?" I gave a small sympathetic nod, which only seemed to make him more upset. He gave a frustrated sigh, wracking his hands through his hair so rough it stayed standing up on end even after they were gone. He looked away, only to look back at me with a newly obtained sense of determination. He really wanted to figure this out. "Did you start seeing someone else?"

"No! God, no, not that." I shook my head, looking down at my lap. I wasn't sure if I wanted to admit to everything just yet, but he looked so troubled it seemed unfair to not give him any insight into what was going on. Something told me that if I wanted to keep it all to myself he'd still be understanding, no matter how unhappy it made him, but this time it didn't feel right to do that. He wanted answers and he deserved to have them.

I gulped, clenching my hands into fists. "I've just started seeing you in a different light, that's all."

"Dan." My name left his lips on a soft breath, hardly audible it was so gentle. I risked a sideways glance in his direction, deciding that I'd better find out now if he understood what I was getting at. It was hard to tell what he knew from his expression alone, considering he was just gaping at me with a look of wonder, like he didn't believe me.

That was when I made the split-second decision to explain myself even more, to paint it for him in black and white so he would know exactly what I meant. I didn't like this weird in-between ground we'd just settled on, if I was gonna confess I might as well do it thoroughly. Then at least I'll know for sure how he feels, if there's any chance in hell he might feel the same.

I opened my mouth with intentions of having words come out, but instead only a muffled noise of shock filled the room as he leaned forward in one swift movement and kissed me. It wasn't anything too physical, only a quick brush of our lips, but that alone sent shivers down my spine. Though, years of pent-up longing composed into one embrace would be overwhelming to anyone.

I hadn't even had time to close my eyes the entire thing was so sudden, he pulled back immediately to lock eyes with me and smile goofily. The expression in itself was rather self explanatory, he was very obviously quite pleased with himself. He still seemed cautious though, like he wanted to make sure we were both on the same page before he tried anything more.

I found myself speechless, opening my mouth and closing it numerous times before even the slightest sound managed to come out. Finally, I managed to form a word, albeit the one I knew and spoke the most.

"Phil!" I hissed, the name rolling off my tongue with all the familiarity in the world. His expression fell at that, worry tracing his features as he settled a hand on one of mine.

"Is this not what you meant by that? How many different lights are there to see a person in?" He sounded genuinely concerned, eyebrows furrowed together like he was trying to figure out what else I could have meant. I panicked, eager to reassure him as I said the first things that came to mind, hoping they might help.

"No... Well, I mean, yeah, but-" He cut me off again then, laughing loudly over my incessant rambling. He shook his hand, hand trailing away from my palm to trail up my arm. His fingertips ghosted across the sensitive plane of my neck as they continued on their journey upward, causing me to shiver underneath his touch.

"I feel the same." He concluded as his hand reached its destination, cupping my jaw and forcing me to look upward to meet his gaze. It was difficult though, I wanted nothing more than to look away when there was so much raw emotion in the way he was looking at me. It felt like a high of sorts. After denying myself the option to even consider this outcome for so long, it was overwhelming to have it staring me in the face now.

"You feel the same?" I reiterated, begging him to go into more detail, to reassure me that what he was feeling really did line up with what I was. He just shook his head though, leaning in closer to rest our foreheads together.

"I always have." He confessed, a brimming smile engulfing his face. "And now I know that I always will."