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A storm was raging outside, and dan and I were giggling as if there lives depended on it.
I try not to coo as Dan laughs suddenly stopped to make way for a yawn. I loved if when Dan yawn, his mouth opens almost impossibly wide and he shows all his Tate, like a little lion. He flops his face into my last and closes his eyes, letting my long fingers comb through his silky soft hair.
We were having yet another sleepover at Phil's house, as they do nearly every day Phil doesn't have school. Dan doesn't go to school, his father thinks that he might learn bad stuff from the kids at school so he is homeschooled.
"I'm sleepy." Dan states, looking up at is he is waiting for me to wave a magic wand and make his energetic and hyper again. I smile fondly at the 9 year old.
A lot of people at my school think that I'm insane for handing out with "a stupid baby" but they don't understand. Dan is one billion times more mature then most the kids that like the tease me.
"Let's go to get then, lazy bones!" I said raising my eyebrows. Dan just groaned. I smile and, without any warning whatsoever, pick up Dan with one arm around his lets and the other around his back. He's heavy, but if is worth it to hear his existed scream.
*Insert cut time skip symbol here*
"Phil. Hey, Phil! I need you, Phillip!"
I spring out of bed, heart beating so hard that I'm scared it's going to leap right out of my chest, and spring across the hall to the guest room (Witch was really more of Dan's room at this point) in record time; he needs me.
That idea isn't all that foreign to me, but him yelling it at one in the morning from his bedroom is, worryingly so. I mean, what if he's sick or being murdered or there's a monster under his bed?
Hang on. All of the lights are out, even the one we always leave on in the hall overnight just in case one of us wakes up. I'm in complete darkness; surrounded by nothing but endless black and a desire to know what on Earth is going on. To know what on Earth is going on in order to make my best friend shout for my help when he should be tucked up in bed and snoring softly, dreaming about flower crowns or whatever else it is that he could possibly fantasize about.
"Philly!" He yells, voice full of a desperate type of longing that makes my insides feel like ice-cream on a hot summer's day; melting into a pit of sunny oblivion. "Phil!"
"Je- goodness, Dan. I'm right here!" I grin as I stride into his room, taking extra care not to tread on anything in the lightlessness of it all. "What's wrong?" I ask, letting out a long breath of relief at the realisation that he is neither dead nor dying; I don't think I've ever even thought about what life without Dan, my Danosaur, would be like. Actually, I don't think I want to know. "Why's the hall light out?"
In the dark I can just about make out two things for certain; the moonlike glow of Dan's wide-open eyes telling me from their height that he's sat upright and the outlines of his arms, reaching out towards me in a kind of adorable begging gesture. Unable to deny him, even in my exhausted state, I crawl in next to him and wrap an arm around his bare shoulders and letting out a pleased humming sound as he snuggles into my Doctor Who pyjama top. Even through the flimsy fabric I can feel the cold radiating off of small, skinny form, the tip of his nose like a tiny ice-burg as it nuzzles into my chest.
Maybe he is sick, in which case I won't be leaving his side until he gets better. I just hope it isn't as bad as when he was so sick he couldn't even open his eyes without tons of effort. Phil had missed to weeks of school as his mum knows how important Dan is to Phil.
But that wouldn't explain the light, assuming that Dan's problem and the nightlight are in fact two related occurrences.
"Power cut." He mumbles, a soft smile playing on his lips as he slides to lay back down again; this time with his head resting carefully on my tummy.
In the back of my mind I know that I should find all of this contact-based affection weird or icky or whatever else it isn't but I just can't, not when all of this is coming from Dan anyway.
He fits into me so perfectly, like we're two puzzle pieces created for the sole purpose of being able to complete one another. As I drape my arms over his front, wincing at the arctic temperature of his body, I can feel his heart ticking away behind his skin; a constant, pulsating beat reminding me that he's right here and letting me trick myself into thinking that he's mine.
"Oh." I nod, even though I know he can't see me, and slide down the bed a little bit so that I'm in slumping sitting/lying position with Dan still burrowed into me like a little baby bunny. "God, I mean gosh, you're freezing, Danosaur."
"Heating's off." He yawns, mouth stretching wide and showing the glint of his teeth. "Need someone to keep me warm." All of a sudden he goes stiff in my arms, almost feeling to be frozen solid, but then it dawns upon me; he's embarrassed, bless him. "Um, if you don't mind? Please?"
I don't think I've ever really noticed until right now just how cute Daniel Howell is. I mean, sure I've thought he's sweet and funny and kind and sortofreallyperfect before, but this is the first time I've experienced his full capacity of adorableness. Wait, that's not true. He thinks about it about 196.934 million times a millisecond, or at least it seams that way to Phils 13 year old brain.
And it makes the offer of him being my personal teddy bear for the night completely undeniable.
By way of response I simply tuck the duvet tighter around him and ruffle his hair, savouring the way it feels like golden silk beneath my fingers and the way he lets out a little noise of dissatisfaction at the gesture, but says nothing all the same because really, deep down, he loves it.
"Y'know, it'd probably be a lot warmer if you were wearing something more than just your thin pokimon shirt." He shakes his head, clinging onto me and I let out a giggle, just loving the way that he's acting; like he's so... mine. "I can go get you a top if you want, I don't mind."
"I don't need a top!" He declares, tone bold and full of a smirk that I can feel pressing into my skin though my t-shirt. "I've got a Phil."
My arms tighten around him, they can't not, and I squeeze him into the most bone-crushing hug I think I've ever given, and that's saying something.
"Yeah." I whisper, smiling to myself as I think his words over and over and over in my head. "Yeah, you do."
He doesn't respond, just wriggles around a bit until he finds a comfortable position to sleep in. A position that just so happens to be his entire torso resting on top of my tummy like a giant human blanket, our legs intertwined under the covers and his arms locked securely around my waist. Part of me can't help but think that he's only being like this because he's sleepy and he doesn't know any better but another part of me, a bigger and bolder part, is telling me that he means this; that he really does want me here. Not just now, but for forever.
Maybe. But that's no right! I meant mentally slap myself, Dan is only 9, about to turn 10! You can't like him. And he's a boy! You can't like a boy, that would be wired. And gross.
I can feel him starting to warm up, my body heat encompassing him just like my arms are and holding him securely in it's grip; keeping him nice and toasty despite our current lack of central heating. He's keeping me snug too, just in a different kind of way, I think. He's not just warming my body; he's warming my heart too.
God, I sound soppy. Like some lovesick girl writing in her diary about that guy who looked at her across the room in English class that one time whilst they were studying Romeo and Juliet. But, do you know what? I don't care. It's half past one in the morning, the electricity's off and Daniel Howell is currently snuggling into me like his life depends on it; I think I'm allowed to be a little bit soppy if I want to be right now.
A soft sound seeps into the comfortable silence of the room, making my insides turn to complete mush at the insane cuteness of it. Dan's snoring. Not the kind of loud, laborious snoring of some drunken old man on Boxing Day, but the sort of sweet and whimsical snoring you'd expect to hear coming from a fairy-tale princess. He's sound asleep; dead to the world.
Without any form of warning, a hand grabs hungrily onto my own. I look down and, sure enough, Dan's clutching onto my pale paw like it's a lifeline. So what if I like that a little bit more than I probably should; life's just too perfect for me to care right now.
It's perfect because I'm in bed with my best friend, keeping him warm, and he's holding my hand; holding me as if I'm the most important thing in the world to him. Perhaps I am.
"Philly." He murmurs, stirring slightly from his dream as I stroke a soothing hand over his hair; so soft. "My Philly. Mine."
All his.