25

                                    

                                          
By the time their food arrives and they're sitting at Phil's dining table, a slight pitter-patter of rain climbs gently from the skies to the roofs of Oxford Street. It's calming, Phil thinks. No where near a storm, no where near blistering suns. It's simply background music, emphasising every smile of Dan's with a dimple, and every thought of Phil's with complete and utter mush. 
                          
 "I'm glad we did this, really." Phil muses. He's not entirely certain such genuine words have ever left his mouth. A small grin dances across Phil's face as his gaze meets Dan's. The brunet nods shyly, lowering his vision to the table in an attempt to hide a blush from Phil. It doesn't work.
                          
 "Yeah," Phil notes how Dan plays with his hands, how his smile never leaves his face. "I, uh, I am too." 
                          
 Conversation pauses after that, leaving the pair to eat in a comfortable silence. Occasionally, they steal a gaze or two from the other, more than often resulting in roses blooming on their cheeks. Phil still can't process Dan's perfections. He still can't process how lucky he is that Dan's forgiven him. It's a brief, wonderful thought, but Phil thinks everything might be okay. Maybe they'll be okay.
                          
 The outside weather continues to drip carefully from the skies, sweeping over London with a light silver hue. Phil can only imagine parents and children rushing home, office workers running sporadically to or from work, all away from something Phil views as beautiful. A small thought plants itself into Phil's mind, leaving a slight grin to form. 
                          
 No matter how pretty the rain might be, it's nothing in comparison to Dan. 
                          
 "It's pissing outside, huh." Phil mutters, conversationally. Dan's eyes dart towards the windows, a hum of agreeance his response. Now's his chance. "You can't go out in this weather, you know. Colds and the just." Phil elaborates. 
                          
 His head darts upwards as a bloody snort takes over the room. "Phil Lester, are you asking me to stay over?" Dan laughs. Guess I wasn't that subtle. Phil's head instantly goes back to the cold plate of pancakes set up on the table, his whole being turning the darkest shade of red he's ever had the pleasure of turning.
                          
 "I- I mean, not if, if you - you know; want to or -"
                          
 "I would love to." Dan interrupts, beaming like the sun means nothing - which, in all fairness, is completely correct when Dan's in the room. "I mean, the weather is just -" The gesture alone of Dan sarcastically referencing Phil's shitty reasoning to stay shoots bouts of serotonin throughout him. It's lovely, the domesticity of eating breakfast at the table together. The navigation of what's allowed and what's not. Phil's never truly felt this way before. He's never had flowers grow through his tongue and stars shine through his eyes. He's never felt alive. Not like this.
                          
 Phil waits for it, he truly does, but the silence never arrives. Instead, a barely muffled buzz rings from across the table. Dan's eyes furrow briefly as he reaches over to check. Phil can't ignore the lump that forms in Dan's throat, the way his mouth drops open slightly as the world completely crashes down from any and all of the heavens, and lands upon his brittle little head.
                          
 Dan blinks heavily, manic eyes rushing across the room as he stands up. Phil winces as Dan's chair squeaks far from pleasantly on the floor. "I - oh, God, Phil. I'm sorry, I can't - I can't - I'm sorry." He's rushing over his words, slurring upon every syllable. 
                          
 Phil reaches out towards the man, brows furrowed in concern. "Is everything o-" 
                          
 Dan's out the door before Phil can finish his sentence. 
                          
 -
                          
 It takes a few hours before Phil decides he needs to see if Dan's alright. The rain hasn't stopped since morning, instead growing stronger throughout the day until it reached just below the point of a storm. That hardly phases Phil, though. He still decides to walk.