Your POV

Dan and I have spent the last three hours talking to each other. We had planned on going to bed, but that ended up never happening. We each lie on our sides, facing each other. Dan runs his hands through my hair, sending shivers down my spine. His hand lingers on my cheek, giving me a soft smile.

"Why are you so cuteee?" He emphasizes the last word as if I'm a puppy, making me give a hearty laugh.

"Why are you so clicheee?" I mock him, kissing him on the nose.

"Hey, most cliche things are cliche for a reason," he says defensively, smiling cheekily.

"Daniel, you're a fucking loser," I laugh, and he pouts jokingly. "Don't worry, I'm a loser, too. We're a perfect pair of losers."

"You're fucking perfect," Dan says, looking into my eyes, and I can't help but laugh at the serious expression on his face. "What? It's true."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," I reply. "You're a twenty six year old dating someone who looks like a twelve year old."

He scoffs. "You do not look like a twelve year old, you can trust me on that. And why does it matter if I'm twenty six years old?" I only shrug, looking down at my hands. Truth is, I don't even know why that came out, but the more I think about it, the more I realize how self conscious I am about my age compared to them. Dodie's the one closest to my age, and she's four years older than me. Phil's a full twelve years older than me. I know age isn't that big a deal, and it's never put much thought into it before I met Dan, but I still worry if it makes them think I'm some sort of kid in any way.

Dan sits up on his elbows, his brow furrowing together. "You're not actually concerned about our age difference, are you?" He asks, sounding somewhat hurt.

I can't look up at him, feeling overwhelmingly shameful. "I mean, if we had met only two years ago, this would be illegal," I whisper, finally giving a voice to some of the concerns that have been nagging at the back of my mind for ages now.

"Yeah, but it's not two years ago anymore," he counters. "And anyway, age has nothing to do with maturity. I mean, look at Phil. He's thirty one and is just as childish as us, if not more."

"I know age doesn't have to do with maturity. That's not what I'm worried about. I'm worried about...you guys thinking I'm young, or immature, or just thinking of me as your pet."

"Have any of us ever done anything to make you feel that way?" He asks. "Have I done anything to make you feel that way?"

"No, but...I dunno, it's kinda stupid, I guess."

"C'mon, love. It's not stupid if it's upsetting you this much. However, you have nothing to worry about." He laughs, then adds, "Sometimes I feel inferior to your astounding intelligence."

I snort. "You have nothing to feel inferior to. But thanks."

He starts talking, kissing me in between each word. "I...think...I...love...you..." he ends with a slow, somewhat shy kiss that makes my heart flutter.

Wait a second. Did he just say he loved me?

I pull away, looking him in the eyes, my eyebrows narrowing. "Did you just say you loved me?" I ask in a small voice.

He shrugs. "I didn't think you'd be as surprised. I mean, I thought I made it pretty obvious, even without saying it."

"Yeah, but..." My sentence drifts off, and I only shrug my shoulders, realizing he's right. "Yeah, I think I love you, too," I say.

His eyes light up like a little kid on Christmas. "I think that's one of the best things I've ever heard," he answers giddily, and grabs my face in his hands, kissing me deeply.

~~~~

I sit in the lounge, lying my head on Dodie's shoulder as we watch Dead Poet's Society, the rain trickling against the glass window peacefully. Dan and Phil have both gone out for some sort of YouTube business. I didn't know the details about it, but they weren't supposed to be back until around five, and it's only about noon right now.

"How's your arm been doing?" Dodie asks, not taking her eyes off the television.

"Fine. Luckily I'm still able to do a lot of things, besides lift my hand above my head," I reply. "It's mainly my back that's causing me trouble, but that's getting better too."

"That's good!" She hesitates for just a second, before asking, "Are you scared he's, like, going to come back or something?"

My throat closes up instantaneously. This is something I've been thinking about, but have been trying to pay less and less attention to. "Sometimes I think about it," I admit. "Sometimes I'll wake up in the middle of the night, hear the apartment building settling, and be scared shitless that it's him." I sigh, then continue, "But then I just have to remind myself that I am safe. I have you, and Phil, and Dan, all by my side. And that's all I could ever ask for."

Dodie stays silent for a second, but then just replies, saying, "Aw, you're so cute," and absentmindedly brushing my hair with the tips of her fingers as the movie continues playing. "Do you want to talk about it? If you don't, that's cool, but I can tell it's eating you alive."

I sit up, looking at her with my eyebrows raised, and she only returns the same expression. I can't help but look down at my hands. My nails are chewed raw, which is strange, as biting my nails has never been a habit I picked up. "I do. It's just...I don't want people to feel sorry, or pity me."

"C'mon, (Y/n), you know it's not like that," Dodie assures me. "You can tell me anything, it would never change the way I think about you. I don't know your story, but I know your character, and I know that you're pretty fucking amazing."

I laugh nervously. "Okay, um, I'm gonna tell you what happened, because I feel like if I don't let it out at some point, I'm going to explode," I say, readjusting the way I'm sitting to a more comfortable position. "And I might start crying, but just try your best to ignore it, because that's what I'm planning on doing." Dodie nods. I take a deep breath, and dive into the story head first.

I tell her about how PJ would snap at the littlest of mistakes, his punishments ranging from hitting me with the belt to locking me in a room to not letting me eat. How he had this twisted mentality thinking we were star crossed lovers, made for each other. How he took away all my freedom and communication with everyone, completely isolating me from the outside world.

I then tell her about the more intense and twisted details, and these are the things that finally make tears trail down my cheeks. How he would force me into bed with him. How ninety-nine percent of the foreplay included hating on Dan, how dominance and validation were the only two things that turned him on.

I explain the misery of him dragging me out in public, where I'm surrounded by all these people, yet I can't scream for help. How I'm pulled around like a dog on an incredibly short leash, or an incredibly bored child being dragged by their parent. How even though my body is in incredulous pain, it could never amount to what I'm going through psychologically. I don't mean to let out all these details, but they kind of just fall out without my permission.

When I finally exhaust myself and have run out of things to say, I wipe my tear-soaked face with the sleeve of my jumper, and look at Dodie as a way of telling her I'm finished.

"Okay," She says softly. "What do you want to do about this?"

I huff, trying to collect my thoughts. What do I want to do about this? Obviously, my first instinct is to try and ignore it until it goes away, but we've already eliminated that option a long time ago.

The only option that seems possible, at least, a little bit, is closure.

"I want to be able to get over this," I say. "Part of me wants revenge, but part of me wants to just let go. I don't want to think about it anymore. I want to put it all behind me."

Dodie nods. "We can do that. However, getting over it isn't pretending it never happened. Getting over it is accepting that it happened, and then moving on from that."

I sigh. "Okay."

She gives me a small smile. "Okay."

~~~~

"Dan, you've been up for over twenty four hours. That's definitely not healthy."

"I can sleep when I'm dead."

"And if you keep doing what you're doing, that's gonna be pretty damn soon."

Dan sits at his computer, typing furiously on his laptop. He won't give me a single clue about what he's writing about, which, if I'm honest, is what's annoying me the most.

"If I go to bed, I'm gonna lose all the ideas wizzing around my brain, and that's not something I can risk. Especially not now."

"Is this about that meeting earlier?" I ask, leaning over the side of his chair and brushing a few loose strands out of his eyes. He and Phil both came home three hours later than they had planned and all hot and bothered. Both had insisted on retreating to their rooms and locking themselves in there for an eternity.

It's only eleven, but Dan hasn't gotten a single bit of sleep last night. I had just assumed it was restlessness, but now I realize it could be something much bigger. I mentally slap myself for not asking him earlier if something was wrong.

"Yes, it is about that meeting. However, (Y/n), I don't really have time to talk about this right now."

I roll my eyes. "Do you at least want something to eat or something?"

"Chips. Coffee," is all he says. I lightly slap him beside the head, and walk out to the kitchen. I start making a cup of coffee, and grab a bag of chips from the pantry. I bring the treats back into the room, placing them in front of Dan.

"You think you're gonna go to bed anytime soon?" I ask, and he only shakes his head no. Of course.

I lie in bed, burrowing myself under the covers to block out the light as much as possible. To my surprise, I'm actually incredibly comfortable, and I fall asleep to the sound of Dan typing keys and chewing the occasional chip.

~~~~

I wake up the next morning, panicking for just a second as I kick the blankets tied around me away, thinking I might suffocate. Once I'm done wrestling with myself in bed, I look to Dan's side of the bed, only to realize it's bare. I look around the room, and see him conked out with his face on the keyboard.

I laugh and stand up, walking over to him.

"Danny..." I whisper into his ear, kissing his cheek. "Wakie, wakie, eggs and bacey..." I kiss him again as he lets out a low grown.

"Stop...sleep..." he moans.

"If you're gonna sleep, at least do it in bed," I say, rubbing his back.

"So...tired..." he breathes, then falls back to sleep on the desk. Whatever.

I grab some of my own clothes from around Dan's room, seeing as most of my wardrobe is already in here, anyway, and walk to the bathroom to change. I dress in a light blue sundress, and straighten my hair down my back. After doing my makeup, I walk into the lounge, where Dodie sits, eating a bowl of cereal while watching cartoons.

"Aren't you supposed to be older than me?" I joke, falling down next to her.

"Age doesn't matter when it comes to YouTubers. When we start making videos, that's when we stop aging."

I laugh. "You're not wrong."

After countless reruns of old cartoons I only vaguely remember, Phil stumbles into the lounge, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"About time you woke up," Dodie sneers, "I thought you died or something."

"It feels like it," he yawns, dramatically falling down on the other side of Dodie, dropping his head onto his shoulder and giving a comical snore.

"What happened last night?" I ask. If Dan won't tell me, maybe Phil will.

"You'll have to ask Dan about that," Phil says, and I respond by groaning.

"Why is it that big of a deal?" I whine. "If he just told me what it is, then at least I would know why he's shunning me."

"He's not shunning you!" Phil contradicts. "He just...when he gets these sort of project ideas, it's impossible to draw him away from them. He gets incredibly absorbed, and basically becomes a robot. Don't worry, he'll come back soon."

"Yeah, I hope so," I mutter. The last thing I need right now is for Dan to leave me, especially when he hasn't even gone anywhere.

Dan's POV

My head is pounding as if I have an extreme hangover, except I know I didn't have a drop of alcohol. I stand up and mope to the bathroom, and almost flinch at my reflection when I click the light on. Sleep deprivation is not a good look on me.

I walk back into my room, and sit down at my computer. The document I've been writing on has forty seven pages of the letter 'g' typed over and over again, from my face being pressed against the key when I passed out. A half-full glass of lukewarm coffee sits on my desk, along with a chip bag and crumbs littering the surrounding area.

I sweep the crumbs and bag into my waste basket, and grab the coffee, walking it into the kitchen. I dump out the mug, and turn on the coffee maker, refilling it.

"You know what's even better than coffee?" I steady voice says behind me. I turn around and see (Y/n) leaning against the doorway. "Actual sleep."

She walks toward me. She's dressed in a girlish sundress, her hair straightened down her back. She looks like a fucking angel. Even though we've been dating for months now, my stomach still fills with butterflies every time I see her.

"Yeah, well, not all of us have time for that," I remark, grabbing the mug of steaming coffee.

"Why though?" She blurts impatiently, her eyes narrowing. "I mean, can you at least tell me why you're spending every minute on your computer, not even talking to me?"

I can tell she's upset, and I can also tell she's trying her hardest to hide it. My eyes turn soft as my heart sinks just a bit. "I'm sorry, I really can't," I reply.

She gives a huff of frustration, throwing her arms on the air. "Fine," She snarls, and storms from the kitchen, hair swinging behind her.

Every part of my being wants to run after her and tell her. Every part of me wants her to know that this has nothing to do with her, and I'm only protecting her. The only thing is, I'm going to have to tell her at some point, I'm just petrified of when.

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Yo! When are we gonna catch a break? I mean, I shouldn't really be saying anything since I'm the one writing the story, but still...don't worry, everything's gonna be fine.
Hope you're enjoying the story! Exams are a total pain in the ass but whatever. See you later! 💜