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It should feel cold. The wind whipping around Phil was blowing straight through the thin fabric of the t-shirt he was wearing and yet, he didn’t feel any of it. Why was he out here? Why was he just in a t-shirt? It didn’t matter. It should be cold, but it wasn’t.
Everything around him was a blur. The houses, the lights, the sky above him. It reminded him of the early morning hours, waking up nearly blind as he fumbled for his glasses on the nightstand. But, it was nighttime and he was outside, mindlessly wandering down the windy street of this random neighborhood. He wasn’t even sure where he was going. Somehow, though, he knew which way to go.
The house at the end of the road was calling his name, beckoning Phil to take the final steps down the drive. The gravel crunched underneath his shoes as he climbed up the steps. Phil paused, blinking at the door in front of him. Was it redwood? Birch? Was it even wood at all? Was it even a real door?
He didn’t even realize he had taken the first step inside until the sole of his shoe hit the rug on the other side. The pattern screamed ‘Phil’ but the colors were definitely Dan’s choice and he found himself mesmerized by the swirls under his feet.
When he finally glanced up, everything shifted into place right before his eyes. The art on the walls, the trinkets, the souvenirs he and Dan had picked up all over the world, pictures from their tours, their awards. There was even a sofa crease. Phil’s fingers traced delicately overtop the fabric of the sofa as he walked through the room and down the hallway.
Just like the house calling to him earlier, the room at the end of the hallway was doing the same. An ethereal glow poured out from underneath the crack in the door, drawing Phil closer like a moth to a flame. There was no sense of urgency or fear. Everything seemed calm, slow even. But, Phil couldn’t ignore it. He couldn’t ignore the voice in the back of his head telling him something was off. Something didn’t seem real.
Wrapping his fingers around the doorknob, Phil gently pushed it open only to see Dan.
And himself.
Dan was pacing, frantically from one end of the room to the other while Phil lay on the bed watching him from over the edge of a book.
“I can’t find it, Phil!”
“Just wear the white one. You know you’re going to look beautiful no matter what.”
Dan frowned, “Philll…”
Phil was pretty sure he was dreaming. He watched as Dream Phil caved to Dan almost immediately, pretending to be annoyed in a way they both knew wasn’t fooling anyone. They both disappeared into the closet amidst faux bickering.
Phil couldn’t think of a single instance in his life where he’d ever had a dream like this, a dream where he was observing himself. He knew Dan would say it didn’t mean anything.
‘ Not all dreams have to have meaning .’ he’d say. Phil would half-heartedly argue before dropping it and they’d move on. This time, he was certain this had to mean something.
Dream Dan and Phil were still in the closet, rustling through hangers, when Phil walked further into the room. A faint smile crossed his lips as his eyes ghosted over the pictures all over the room. Apparently, his mind had supplied a surplus of fake memories to fill in these frames.
He stopped abruptly when he saw an invitation sitting on top of the dresser. It was familiar. Too familiar. Phil’s hands shook as he reached to pick it up.
“Let’s Celebrate!” was written on the top in swirly gold calligraphy.
“You’re invited to join us for a midsummer night dinner party to celebrate the marriage of Daniel and Philip Howell-Lester.”
The invitation slipped from between his shaky fingers, falling to the floor. In a panic, his eyes shot to his left ring finger. He barely had time to see the ring encircling it before he jolted awake.
-
The first time they’d talked about marriage was only a year after they met.
“You don’t want to get married?”
“Nope,” Phil answered around a mouthful of cereal. “I just don’t get it.”
Dan’s lips turned down before rolling his eyes. “I’ll never understand you, Phil Lester.”
It hadn’t really meant anything at the time. It was no more than a random conversation spurred by a movie on tv. The conversation hadn’t even crossed Phil’s mind again until a few years later, when Dan asked again.
Dan knew Phil didn’t really care for it and Phil knew Dan was a romantic at heart and it would mean the world to him. But, they never bothered to discuss it further until now.
Marriage had become a common conversation in the flat lately. It started subtly, with Dan casually mentioning ‘how pretty those flowers would be for a wedding’ when they were on their way to Tesco’s, a random email linking to a website about the best season to get married in to save money, forcing Phil to sit through 27 Dresses.
It was getting hard to avoid and there was a growing pit in the bottom of Phil’s stomach that he didn’t like one bit. Dan was hinting. He was blatantly hinting that he wanted to get married.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but it did. What surprised Phil, even more, was the fact he was even considering it. He’d do anything for Dan, right?
-
Phil proposed on a Thursday evening in their lounge. He didn’t have a ring, he didn’t have a plan, but he did have a love for Dan that knew no bounds. He loved Dan enough to marry him, even though marriage wasn’t something he wanted. A flash of boldness had spurred him to propose, a warm fondness spreading throughout his body as he looked towards Dan’s head in his lap. The question came out before Phil had a chance to stop it.
Will you marry me?
Dan had cried. He shot out of Phil’s lap so fast that he nearly toppled off the couch all together. He’d said yes and they were happy.
That was six months ago. They hadn’t talked about it since.
Well, Dan had talked about it. Non-stop almost. From swooning over tuxes to gushing over wedding cakes. It all should have been endearing. However, Phil couldn’t find it in himself to even care.
There wasn’t much of a difference between him and Dan’s relationship with or without the marriage certificate, so why bother? Why did they need a piece of paper declaring their love? They were fine the way they were.
It wasn’t fair, Phil knew it wasn’t. He shouldn’t have been so impulsive to ask Dan, to take something that meant so much to Dan and treat it like it was nothing. He couldn’t take it back. That would shatter Dan’s heart. Phil stared at the ring on Dan’s finger as he sluggishly made his way into the kitchen. It made something in his chest hurt.
“G’morning.” Dan mumbled, grabbing a mug out of the cabinet.
Phil couldn’t stay. “Good morning.”
He went back to his room.
-
Phil never really could figure out where this inner turmoil about marriage was coming from. He’d never really been into the idea, but he never thought marriage would be this big of a deal for him. He never imagined having so many sleepless nights over something he initiated. He was the one who proposed. He wanted to marry Dan. Right? He did want to marry him, right?
Phil frowned at the ceiling.
-
Phil was sat in a flower shop.
Tulips, daisies, roses, baby’s breath. Any kind of flower he could imagine lined the wall, petals trailing from the ceiling to floor, color-coded, and far too neat for Phil’s liking.
Dan was talking. He was holding the stem of a flower in his hand, something white that Phil didn’t recognize, and he held it towards Phil.
“Hm? What about this?”
Phil paused, plucking the flower from his fingertips. Dan was looking at him so eagerly, a gaze full of excitement that overwhelmed Phil. He shook his head, dropping the flower onto the table.
“No.”
Dan frowned, “M’kay…”
This went on for what felt like hours. Phil was sure they’d looked at every flower, every color, every size of any kind of plant in the shop. Dan’s excited gaze had dimmed to exasperation as he held out the last flower towards Phil.
It was a rose. A black rose that reminded Phil of old emo myspace edits that he used to see every day. Dan watched him, arms folded across his chest and eyebrow raised, waiting for Phil to say something - anything - but he wasn’t. His lips were parted to speak but no words were coming out.
He glanced to the flowers on the walls. They were dying. They were all dying. Their petals were falling the floor, stems wilting right before his very eyes.
In their place, black roses were sprouting from the walls, the floor, the ceiling. There was no trace of the beautiful array of colors that were once on the wall before him. The whole room was filling up with black petals. Petals were filling his mouth, thorns were digging into his skin, and he was alone.
Phil woke up with a start.
-
Phil looked up black roses online.
They symbolized death; The death of an old like to be rebirthed into something new.
He slammed his laptop shut and didn’t look at the page again.
-
“What colors should we pick for the wedding?” Dan asked one Sunday afternoon.
The controller in Phil’s hand vibrated, shaking along with his trembling fingers. Dan had been getting bolder. Long gone was the subtlety. Now, he was blatantly trying to plan the wedding.
Phil was being no help. He couldn’t.
“Uh.. Um…”
Dan stared at him, a frown crossing his face. “What’s wrong?”
Phil shook his head. “Nothing, I’m just tired.”
Dan didn’t believe that for a second. He dropped his hand onto Phil’s thigh and all Phil could do was stare at the ring on his finger.
“Are you sure? You’ve been getting like this every time we talk about the - ”
“I said I was just tired, Dan.” Phil snapped, failing to keep the agitation out of his voice.
Dan pulled his hand away so fast it may as well not have been there at all. With an awkward mumbled apology, Dan hurried out of the room.
-
The chapel was lit by fairy lights, thin chains of white flowers wrapped around the chairs facing towards the altar. The suit he was wearing was uncomfortable. It was too tight and all the wrong colors. He wanted to rip it off.
Dan was at the end of the aisle, standing in front of an officiate. Dan’s eyes snapped to Phil the moment he realized he was in the room, a grin spreading across his face immediately. He held out his hand, an invitation for Phil to come to him.
Unwillingly, Phil took the first step down the middle of the aisle.
It seemed like an eternity before he finally made it to Dan. The chairs on either side of him were now filled with people, from family to friends, all wearing the same happy expression as they watched the ceremony taking place.
Dan slipped his hands into Phil’s, his eyes twinkling with tears of happiness, as the officiate starting talking. He was talking and talking and talking. Phil zoned out halfway through, his eyes wandering the room. His parents, his brother, Cornelia, all their friends. They were all so excited. But, their happiness wasn’t radiating to him. He seemed like the only one in the room who was even slightly distressed.
“I do.” Dan grinned, squeezing Phil’s hand. His attention jerked back into the service.
“And do you, Philip Michael Lester, take Dan to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I…”
Dan looked at him expectantly.
“I…”
Everyone was waiting.
“Do you?” Dan asked.
“Yeah, do you?” Someone from the room chimed in.
“Does he?” “Yeah, do you, Phil?” “Spit it out.” A chorus of people followed in suit.
The officiate looked at Phil with impatience. “Philip, do you -”
“I can’t!” Phil pulled his hands away from Dan’s.
Before he could even think about running out of the chapel, he woke up.
-
After the dream, Phil felt himself distancing himself from Dan. It was silly. He’d known Dan a decade, he loved him. He had no idea why he was doing this to their relationship. The flat had been unbearably tense and Dan’s mood was deflating more and more every day.
Phil knew it was his fault. This whole thing was his fault. He shouldn’t have asked if he didn’t know if he really wanted to do this.
Dan was sitting in the kitchen when Phil finally walked inside. His hands were wrapped around a mug of coffee as he stared blankly at the tabletop. Phil wasn’t sure if he should say anything. Luckily, Dan decided to fill the silence.
“Made you coffee.”
“Thanks.”
“Can we talk?” Dan finally asked, his voice soft and heavy with anxiety.
Phil swallowed thickly. He knew this was coming. It should have already come, but now the conversation was here and all he wanted to do was retreat to his bedroom. Dan took his silence as a yes and before Phil could manage to avoid the conversation, he was already talking.
“Are you avoiding me? You’ve been weird lately. Did I do something wrong?”
Phil bit his bottom lip. He wasn’t sure what to say.
“No, no. You haven’t done anything.” He forced himself to reply. “I’ve just been thinking.”
“About what?”
This was it. This was the moment of the conversation he was dreading.
“Us getting married.”
There, he said it. It was out in the open. The conversation was started. Phil didn’t dare look at Dan. He couldn’t bring himself to see the emotions that he knew were clearly written all over his face. Dan also hadn’t said anything - which, in Phil’s mind, wasn’t a good sign.
“Oh?” Phil could hear the hesitation in Dan’s voice. “What about it?”
Phil inhaled sharply, forcing himself to look Dan in the eyes.
“I don’t want to.”
“You don’t want to marry me?” Dan’s voice broke and Phil’s head snapped up to look at him. He gently took the mug out of Dan’s shaking hands and covered them with his own.
“Hold on.” Phil shushed him. “I just… I love you, Dan. You know that. We’ve been together for so long. I just don’t see why we have to get married to prove that.”
“But, you proposed…” Dan’s face fell again.
“I know and I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. I wish… I just - I just need some time to think about it, alright?”
The air between them hung with a heavy silence. Neither one daring to say a single word.
With a quick glance between Phil and the band on his finger, Dan pulled the ring off and set it on the middle of the table. He seemed hesitant to pull his hand away, but when he finally did, he caught Phil’s eye.
Phil could see the tears brimming behind Dan’s eyes. He wanted so much to go back in time and never propose in the first place. This was his fault.
“I love you.” Dan finally said. “Let me know when you’ve figured it out.”
He was out of the room before Phil had a chance to respond.
-
Dan didn’t leave his room at all the next day. To say Phil was worried was an understatement. He’d essentially made Dan the happiest person in the world only to rip it away from him in less than a year. He felt horrible.
He was torn between bursting through Dan’s door and showering him with apologies and simply leaving him alone until he was ready to talk. If he even wanted to talk again. Phil wasn’t sure if Dan ever would.
The only thing that gave him a glimmer of hope was the quiet “I love you” Dan gave him after the whole conversation. That was a good sign, right?
Phil hoped so.
-
He was alone.
The room was empty, sans for himself and an unmade bed to the side. Dan’s ring was sitting on the pillow.
Phil wasn’t sure how long he silently sat on the bed in his dream until he woke up.
-
Seven days. It took seven days before Dan willingly left his room for more than the bathroom and a rushed snack from the kitchen. Phil was sat in the lounge, staring at his laptop screen, when the couch dipped next to him.
“What’re you watching?” Dan slurred, his voice hoarse.
“Um, nothing yet.” Phil shrugged. He was aiming for nonchalance but both he and Dan knew it was anything but.
“Wanna watch something?”
Phil’s looked at Dan with surprise, eagerly nodding. He wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity.
-
Friends had been playing on Netflix for a while now. Phil wasn’t paying much attention to it, honestly. He more focused on how close Dan had gotten over the last hour. He was counting Dan’s every breathe, the rhythm calming him just enough to not have an anxiety attack over the whole situation.
Suddenly there was a weight on his shoulder and the fabric of his shirt was wet with tears.
“I’m sorry,” Dan mumbled.
Phil pulled back in surprise. “What?”
Dan looked him dead in the eye, ignoring the tears spilling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry I pressured you about marriage. I shouldn’t have. I knew how you felt about it from the start and I -”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Phil shook his head. His mouth was open, brain trying to form the words he wanted to say. Dan was apologizing to him? That made absolutely no sense. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. Not you.”
Dan chuckled wetly. “M’fault.”
“It’s not your fault! You didn’t pressure me, Dan.”
“I did though. Whether I meant to or not. Every time I mentioned anything about marriage, it was pressuring you. I knew how you felt and I should have stopped.”
“Dan, no.” Phil wiped his thumb underneath his eye, swiping away the tears. “I shouldn’t have - I mean, I don’t know, Dan. I really don’t know.”
Phil buried his head in his hands and was surprised to feel Dan pulling them away.
“I want you to tell me how you really feel right now.”
-
They talked for hours. The conversation turned delirious, both drunk off sheer exhaustion and the high intensity of their emotions. Phil wasn’t sure when they dozed off.
But, he was pleased to find Dan in his arms in the morning.
-
Dan stood in the open door of the balcony. His back was to Phil, barely acknowledging him as he heard him walk up. Phil rested his chin on top of Dan’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around his waist.
“Morning.” Dan whispered.
“Goodmorning.”
They stayed there for a while, relishing in the comfortable silence that hung between them as they watched the town below. Dan was watching the people. Phil was just watching Dan.
“Love you,” Dan said abruptly, not taking his eyes off the street.
Phil pressed a kiss to Dan’s upper jaw. “Love you, too.”
After a few more minutes of silence, Dan shrugged Phil’s chin off his shoulder. Grabbing his hand, Dan pulled Phil back inside the bedroom.
“Come on. We’ve gotta film today. Plus, I don’t know how much longer you can function without caffeine.”
Phil rolled his eyes, sticking his tongue out at the back of Dan’s head. He knew Dan had seen him when he failed to hide his laughter.
They were happy.