w// suggestive material

P H I L ' S   P O V

"W-what?" I choked out.

"You heard me."

"But you're so-" I cut myself off when Dan frowned. "You're just-" he crossed his arms. "It's not an insult! You just wear flower crowns and pink fluffy sweaters- why would you want a piercing? And where?"

"A septum piercing."

"The one that goes in the middle of your nose?" He nodded. I ran a hand through my hair. "Would your parents kill you, me, or both of us for it?"

"Yes."

I huffed. "Let's do it, then. Just tell them that you got it done for yourself though, alright?"

He nodded, and suddenly he was trudging forward and leaning his forehead against my chest, holding my waist. My eyes widened in shock, unable to hug him back. I hadn't been hugged by anybody in forever. Not without stabbing them in the back, at least. And I mean that literally.

But slowly, I raised my arms, wrapping them around his shoulders and hugging him to my chest. He leaned into the touch, resting his cheek against my shirt and letting out a tiny sigh. "Thank you."

I hid a grin. "C'mon, you sap."

We walked outside, heading to the piercing and tattoo shop.

I told the artist what he wanted and Dan sat down, his legs dangling since he was too short for his feet to touch the ground. I watched as the man cleaned off his nose first. He then grabbed the piercing, focusing on Dan's nose.

"This is gonna hurt, okay?" He told Dan. Dan nodded, and suddenly he grabbed my hand.

"I can hold your hand, right? I'm sorry I just get scared-"

"It's fine," I responded honestly. He nodded then stood still, squeezing his eyes shut when the metal pierced through his skin. He squeezed my hand extremely tight, causing me to bite my lip. He tensed up and I watched as blood began to pour from the new cut. The artist cleaned it off.

"All done, just make sure you take some painkillers and wash your nose so it doesn't get infected."

Dan nodded, his eyes watering at the pain. We thanked him and Dan looked at me, still holding the towel to his bloody nose. We drove home and went up to my bedroom. "Phil, you have tattoos."

"And?"

"I wanna see them."

"I'd have to be shirtless, and one of them is on my inner thigh so-"

"I'm okay with that."

My eyes widened. "Let's just go home first."

He nodded tiredly and I drove us back home, bringing him up to my room again. I shut the door behind us, Dan throwing away the tissue once the cut had stopped bleeding. He looked really good with the new piercing, if I must admit.

I stepped back, turning away from him to take off my shirt. I tossed it across the room, turning to him. Dan stepped towards me, mesmerized by the ink on my chest. I had two, one under my neck and one one on my stomach.

He brushed his fingertips along my torso, moving up the middle of my stomach to my chest before planting both palms on my shoulders and leaning towards me. I could feel his hot breath brushing against my lips, and I tensed- and

-then I woke up. I shot up gasping, my elbow hitting the headboard of my bed. I looked around to see no sign of Dan, remembering I had dropped him off at his house after the nose piercing.

I quickly took a shower, shaking my head. I stepped out with a towel tied around my waist, staring at myself in the mirror.

I checked the time, seeing it was almost midnight. It was storming outside, lightning flashing and thunder rumbling, the rain attacking my window.

I jumped at a loud tap at my window, staring at where the noise came from. I cautiously tiptoed towards my window, squinting out for any sign them yelped when a small pebble hit the glass.

I looked down to see Dan, standing in the pouring rain in a lilac t-shirt that was too big for him, curly hair, black briefs and fuzzy socks.

I quickly opened up my window. "Dan, what the fuck?"

"Please just let me up," he spoke, his voice shaky. I furrowed my eyebrows but nodded, watching as he climbed up the escape ladder and into my room.

"What is it?" I asked. His whole body was soaked, raindrops dangling from the ends of his curls. "Dan, you're freezing. Come on, I'll get you some warm clothes."

He nodded, his teeth chattering and his arms around himself. I hurried over to my closet and grabbed a band tee, handing it to him. He thanked me and turned away, slipping his damp shirt over his head. I stared as his shoulder blades moved with his arms, freckles littering his pale back.

There were small scratches on the back of his shoulders, looking like they were done from fingernails. I decided I'd ask about them another time.

I tilted my head. Every part of him was beautiful.

I wanted to touch him- without it being lustful. I just wanted to feel his skin against me, the softness of him and his stomach jumping when he laughs, his heart beating with my head on his chest. I wanted to comb through his hair while we rest, and kiss his lips while he smiles against my mouth.

I shook off my thoughts when he turned, my shirt on him.

"My underwear is still damp."

"Oh! I'll give you some," I told him sheepishly. He nodded, his cheeks slightly rosy. I grabbed some briefs from my drawer and tossed it to him.

He thanked me and turned, telling me not to look. I said I wouldn't, averting my gaze.

"Okay, you can look."

I did and sat down on my bed, Dan moving next to me.

"So what is it?"

"I just really hate thunderstorms. It's astraphobia- which means someone who is afraid of thunderstorms. There's other words for it like brontophobia, keraunophobia, or tonitrophobia," Daniel told me.

I nodded, leaning down and laying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling with my arm under my head. "So how come you came here?"

"My parents don't like when I bother them about it. I hate being alone during thunderstorms- plus I have really bad anxiety and it just helps if I have someone with me. Mason used to help me, b-but-" he cut himself off, his eyes watering.

"I know, hey, you don't have to talk about it," I told him, sitting up taking him in my arms. He sat in between my legs and hugged me, his head nudged into my chest. I brushed my fingers into his damp hair, my chin on the top of his head.

"I miss him so much. I just don't understand why someone would kill him. He n-never did anything wrong. All he ever was was nice- to anybody! Even to people who weren't nice to him! And that person didn't even give him a chance, they just took him from us, from his family, from his future- everything. And I hate them. I hate whoever killed Mason. And maybe it was more than one, but that doesn't change anything. I hate them, and I hope they burn in hell."

My breathing hitched. This was my fault he was in so much pain. I listened to Wirrow. I listened to him when he wasn't even right. Mason was innocent. We killed the wrong guy. We killed someone who helped a boy named Dan with anxiety because all he ever was was alone. But I didn't get the chance to know him.

Suddenly the lights flashed out and it was pitch black besides the reflection of the moon through my window. Dan whimpered, clutching me tighter and nudging his head closer to me. "Dan? Are you scared of the dark too?"

He hesitated before murmuring, "yes." I smiled sadly, petting his hair still and rubbing his back with my other hand. "But not when there's a light in the room."

"There isn't one."

"Yes there is," Dan whispered, turning to face me. "He's right in front of me."

And in that moment I knew, that deep down, no matter how hard I tried to block it out or deny it, I was in love.

I had stupidly fallen in love with him- the boy named Dan.