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There were many beautiful sights Phil had been so lucky to have seen in his short life, but nothing left him quite in awe as the sight that stood before him.
It was a quaint little town, clouded with a certain sort of beauty and wonder. Even from the distance, he could see that the town was far from picture perfect, and yet, Phil found that even the spots of tiny cottages laid scattered in random fashion, was still a wonderfully breathtaking sight.
Photography was the art of taking something meant to be seen, and make it felt, he was once told, and in his mind, he knew there was something incredibly special about this town he had so much as stumbled upon by chance. With several snaps of the camera that was hung round his neck, he was off.
The awe Phil felt when his eyes first landed on the town only seem to grow in size as he walked through the tiny entrance of the town. What struck him immediately was the laughter that would fill the cool air, and innocence that would fill the hearts of the young and naive, who ran freely through the snow.
Holding onto his thick blue coat just a little tighter, he looked around, thinking of what to do next. He wanted to just lie there in the snow and immerse himself in the sights and sounds of the town, but he knew better than to open himself up to frostbite and even possible death in the freezing temperature. A yawn also escaped his lips, and the exhaustion he felt began to sink in.
It was then, that Phil felt a sudden tap on his shoulder. He turned round, to a petite lady, looking to be in her 40s.
"What's a young chap like you wandering here at this time. It's nearly 8 o'clock, goodness! I reckon you're not from around here?" The lady said, her voice rather gruff, not fitting her small, harmless looking frame.
She looked rather amused, which was not actually surprising, considering how much of a wreck Phil looked to be in, with his hair sticking out in strange places and his clothes covered in snow. He could nearly swear there was a growth on his nose from the looks the lady was giving him.
"Oh, erm, yup. I'm from London, actually. I was just wondering if there was any motel or something that I could stay in for the night?" Phil smiled, finding it hard to maintain eye contact as he fidgeted with the strap of the camera. He didn't know how to talk to people.
"London! Lovely place, I used to go there all the time with my husband. There's a motel actually, you'll have to go straight up and you're on your way. This town's tiny, you'll barely have to walk a minute to get to the other end of town. I'm exaggerating, but don't mind me." In a chatty, open fashion, the lady then insisted on bringing him right to the doorstep of the motel, claiming that it was a 'town thing to never leave tourists lost and feeling un-welcomed'.
As they moved through the snow-covered streets of the town, the lady's chatter and energy never faltered. And although, there was little Phil actually paid attention to, he couldn't help but find her sickeningly charming, as with everything else in the town he was slowly beginning to fall in love with.
The rest of the night was uneventful, as Phil fell asleep surrounded by the flowery walls of the motel room and the street lights outside his window that never dimmed, even in the night. That night he dreamed of great, great things, for the greatest magic of the town was that it made Phil feel that anything seemed possible at that moment.
*
Phil never found out the lady's name, but he did however, find out that what she said rung true. Finding his way around the town the next morning was a piece of cake, to say the least. Turns out, when you're not being so moon-eyed about everything, street signs begin to exist. Phil felt the slightest urge to whack himself in the head for looking so lost, confused and in awe last evening. The lady probably thought Phil was from a cave, and hadn't seen civilisation in weeks.
Picture after picture he snapped, of the people, of the corners, of the snow, of the sky, one more stunning than the next. Phil had been told his entire life that he was one of little talent, but it was an undeniable fact that Phil had the ability to turn the beautiful to ugly, and the ugly to beautiful, all through his camera lens. That was a power Phil loved relishing in, and the highly acclaimed photography website he independently ran, was his proudest achievement.
Phil had been alone for a while now. He kept to himself a lot, hadn't made many friends or had any that mattered. When his parents passed away a week after his twenty first birthday, he was left to fend for himself. His incredible gift of photography had been practically all that he had left, and it soon became his form of escapism, his way of coping with the grief that threatened to overcome him, and his way of making ends meet.
It was simple really, Phil would travel remote corners of the earth to take the most exquisite pictures. With the money he earned, he would travel even further away from home. Phil left London nearly two years ago, and never looked back. It wasn't that he hated London, definitely not, it was more of that that there wasn't a reason for him to stay. There never was, as he moved from place to place to place. His heart connected only to the sights he had seen, and little to the people he had met. That was the way things had been for Phil, and it was enough for him.
There was no reason for him to stay in the town, but if Phil was to be honest with himself, he found himself wanting to busk in the serenity he felt in the town, for just a little longer. It was then, that Phil decided he'd allowed himself to stay, for two more nights, before he'd be off again, to find a new sight to ignite his senses and passions.
There had always seemed to be an invisible affinity with Phil and beauty. So Phil often let his body and soul wander, and take him places. This time, however, he found himself wandering through the tiny forest just on the outskirts of the town. Half and hour in, and barely anything captured his attention. Phil had then concluded that the forest was the plainest part of the pretty town, as he began to retrace his steps to find his way back, his never ending train of thoughts clouding up his mind, leaving him detached from the world around.
"And all the sweethearts that e'er I had, they would wish me, one more day to stay", a distant melodious voice emerged, which Phil thought, only made the silence that the forest had previously been engulfed in, pale in comparison. His thoughts forgotten, Phil found himself incredibly drawn to the voice. It felt like a whisper of the wind, a passing feat that he longed to hear, and feel once more. Phil wasn't quite sure what happened then but something in him snapped, and he was sent racing, in search of the voice.
He never found the voice, and Phil brushed it aside as hallucination, trudging back to the motel, feeling slightly emptier than he usually did. After all, he had been stuck in this limbo between facades of beauty and stark reality for so long, that he wasn't quite sure what was real anymore, as he found himself badly wanting the voice he had heard to be real.
*
The next day, Phil was back in the forest again, despite his inner thoughts telling himself not to waste his time, for there was simply nothing there. This time, however, he did happen to find something, as his his stumbled upon the most magnificent sight.
A boy, seemingly a couple of years younger than Phil, laid against a tree, fast asleep. His mouth was parted slightly, eyelashes long, brown hair messily done and Phil decided instantly, that this had to be the prettiest person he'd ever had the pleasure of seeing with his own two eyes. Carefully approaching his peaceful frame, he had his camera up, craving a keepsake of the perfection the boy that was in his direct view of sight.
Phil never knew he could be that fond of the look on someone's face as they slept, and yet Phil was discovering so many things just from the admiring the boy in those minutes. "Just a few snapshots", he thought to himself. He didn't admit this out loud to himself, but a certain part of him was so drawn to this beautiful boy, that pictures were actually just an excuse for him to get closer to him. It must have been odd, the way Phil admired the sleeping boy's perfect features as he slept, for the chocolate brown eyes that were suddenly in full view, stared into the Phil's pale blue eyes, evidently shocked.
The boy sat up abruptly, causing Phil to retreat slightly from the close proximity he had been to the boy a minute ago. "Um. I'm so sorry. I was just-I was just walking round and I saw you and I just thought you'd be good for a photo and you're just very pretty and." Phil felt his face heat up, as he rambled, clearly feeling embarrassed and extremely awkward from the situation. He slapped a hand over his mouth the moment he realized what he had admitted to the boy.
The boy stared at Phil for some time before breaking out into a laugh. "It's fine, it's fine, I get it. I've been told I'm a work of art anyway." He said, a dimple appearing as he gave Phil a cheeky little smile before winking, "You're not too bad yourself."
"You okay there? You look slightly pale." the boy's tone changed to somewhat that of concern, as he got closer to examine Phil's face. "Yeah.. I'm fine." Phil said, and he found himself being charmed by the younger boy's charisma and positivity. Next to him, Phil felt like a dull, lifeless ghost and at that moment, he thought that maybe he was.
"So the name's Dan. Do I get to find out your name as well, sir? Or do you prefer going by the name 'Pretty Eyes'?" he teased, playing around with the snow. "Phil, I think."
"Play a game with me, Phil? I'm bored, and there's nothing much that goes on here." Dan said, frowning a little, as he stood up and grabbed Phil by the hand, urging for him to sit.
Phil felt himself feel comfortable in the boy's presence and found himself liking and enjoying the warmth of his momentary touch, and that was something incredibly scary and foreign to him.
Dan's intense stare was the first thing he noticed when Phil snapped out of his thoughts, as he opened his mouth to speak. "500 facts. It's the only proper way to get to know someone, don't you think? Basics first and I'll go first. I'm nineteen, born in Manchester, but I've lived here my whole life."
"Twenty three, and I'm from London." Never did Phil find himself in such ease in a complete stranger's presence, and that was special. Never did he feel himself wanting to be close someone and feel their warm, warm touch again. Never did he find himself, wishing his time with someone would simply never end.
Hours went by, and the game was mostly paused, as the conversation quickly moved into mindless banter, childhood stories, and their interests and aspirations. Dan had kept count though, and they were at fact number 83, apparently.
Phil found out that Dan could play the piano, had a sensitive neck (something Phil intended to make full use of in the future) and once had a hamster while Dan learnt of Phil's job, his parents untimely death and that he was actually blonde.
If you didn't know, you'd think Dan and Phil were exact opposites, with Dan having a relatively happy and secure life, and Phil being the lost soul he was. Despite that, they both knew they were the same, underneath the superficial external differences. Just two boys, slightly overwhelmed by the size of the world, and how they were just so insignificant compared to it. Both lonely, with a hole in their heart that they didn't know was even in need of filling, and suddenly, after a few hours with a stranger they had just met, they were both left wondering how they had lived their lives without feeling the completion they now felt.
Quickly, night fell, and both of them could feel that their time with each other come to at end. "I guess it's time to go now? I'll take you to the motel." Dan offered, as both of them stood up, before taking his hand and started walking, knowing Phil would reject his offer.
Hand in hand, they walked through the forest, and then the enchanting street lights that was probably Phil's favourite part of the town. Yet, next to Dan, nothing seemed quite as bright anymore. As they approached the entrance of the motel, Phil felt a certain yearning pass through him, and he didn't let go of Dan's hand. The strangest thing was, Dan didn't either.
Like every other occasion so far, Dan finally made the first move, and let go of their entwining fingers as he turned around wordlessly, wanting to walk away. Phil's hand immediately felt empty and out of pure impulse, he reached out to hold his again.
Dan looked startled for a bit, before smiling slightly. In that moment Phil decided that, that was his favourite thing to look at, and he smiled too, for being the reason why Dan did. A little shyly, Phil leaned in and pecked the other boy's soft cheeks. "Good night." Dan felt himself blushing and he avoided eye contact with Phil. "Good night." he said, before turning around as he had done earlier.
This time though, Phil let him go, as he snapped a picture of the pretty boy as he walked in the snow, feeling slightly awe struck by Dan.
That night, Phil couldn't stop admiring his pictures of a certain dimpled boy, and Dan dreamt of blue eyes, chaste touches and smiles that never fade.
*
When Dan woke up in the morning, his thoughts instantly travelled to the man he had met just yesterday and felt himself redden at how Phil had kissed him on the cheek. He wasn't sure why, but Dan knew he wanted to meet him again and knew he'd really like to kiss him endlessly while he was at it. Dressing a little better, combing his hair a little more, he wanted to look his best, next to the man he considered perfect. His parents had already left the house for work by the time he was ready, and he left for the forest, excitement filling his heart quickly, just like how Phil did.
In the exact same spot Phil had found Dan the day before, Dan found Phil, looking through his photograph collection. "Truly a workaholic, aren't you?", Dan chuckled, gesturing at the camera that Phil never seemed to be without. "No, it's not work to me. I just really like capturing beautiful things at their finest moments."
"Like me?" Dan laughed. Phil didn't bother denying it, "Like you." Neither mentioned how funny it was though, how they hadn't arranged to meet again, and yet they easily found their way back to each other. It was nice and comforting, knowing that the other wanted nothing more than to waste the hours to be with the other.
"Fact number 84, I make killer sandwiches." "Fact number 84, I can't cook, and I live off microwave food and Chinese takeout." "Then it's a good thing I brought these." Dan smirked, proudly showed Phil the boxes of homemade sandwiches he had brought along, prompting a question of genuine curiousity from Phil. "Why'd you bring those?"
Dan rolled his eyes, and said in a rather deadpan tone, "For feeding the raccoons." "There aren't raccoons here though.. Oh." Phil realised how stupid he sounded at that moment and covered his face in a childlike manner, something Dan must have found endearing, as he tore Phil's hands away from his face, bravely kissing him right on the lips.
It was then, that Phil wished could capture this moment in a shot, because the feeling of Dan's lips on his, of his warm body pressed against his, of the smile he could feel on Dan's face, was something Phil wanted to keep forever. He didn't understand the concept of forever, or certainty, but Phil thought he was beginning to learn.
Their bodies never parted after, and they stayed in a comfy spooning position as Phil held on tight to the boy that made everything seem brighter and better for him. Through Dan, Phil discovered a lot of his new favorite things, and this was one of them. They never stopped playing the game, and with every stupid fact they learnt about the other, the feeling in their hearts only seemed to grow stronger.
"Why 500? I've always been wondering," Phil asked suddenly, as they were at their 208th fact. "Well, it was actually a hundred but I thought that maybe a longer game would make you stay a little longer," Dan stated a quietly, feeling a little vulnerable, for they hadn't spoken about their feelings out loud much at all. It was more of actions and just knowing with the two of them. Words always seemed to pale in comparison to what you could show, after all.
"I like this game though, and I like being here with you." Phil didn't say anything else, like promises of him staying, or for always being there. He didn't like promises, after all, he was never sure if he could keep them and he hated nothing more than lies.
Night had fallen once more, as it did every other night, and Dan found himself lying next to Phil on the soft snow, where they could see the brilliant night sky, sprinkled with the bold and blinding lights of the stars above. Dan always liked stars, they always seemed to tell a different story, and that night, they were brighter than ever, and nothing felt more right.
Dan saw love when he looked at Phil, and he'd like to believe he and Phil were soul mates. What were, after all, the chances, that a random man, four years older than him, would randomly stumble across a lonely boy like him? Phil didn't know this, but Dan had been lonely for most of his life, and never found that great thing they called love, or even a best friend.
He immediately felt an attraction, and a connection towards Phil, and he knew that he wanted to keep Phil around for as long as he could, and so he did. Two days they've met, and yet it feels so much longer than that. Dan liked his childish interests that were slightly hard to believe, due to his detached exterior, how he would do a little eye squint when he talked about something he found cute. Many things, he didn't tell Phil though.
"Phil, do you believe in soul mates?" Dan asked, a little louder than usual. It seemed that the contrasting warmth of Phil and the cold of night, had sent Dan's thoughts to a certain sort of blur, and suddenly everything felt bigger than it was. "No," Phil said simply.
"I do. It seems sort of fitting, the idea that there's someone out there that fits you, belongs with you. Not necessarily as a romantic partner, but sometimes just as a companion. It's when no matter how far the odds try to bring you apart, you'd always be sent racing back in the arms of the other. That one person who will always be a different kind of important from the rest of the world to you. It's.. It's pretty special, don't you think? And I think I'd want that in someone." Dan said, leaving Phil a little stunned.
Phil didn't know how to react to something like that. How were you supposed to respond when a nineteen year old boy, who seemed rather untainted and still unaware of the evil of people, told you that? Do you encourage that sort of thinking? Or do you tear down such idealism?
For Phil didn't believe in such ideals. He didn't believe that there was anyone who would take him as it is and never get sick of him. Even though, he found himself, wanting that with the boy he was laid next to more than anything he'd wanted in the last twenty three years of his life, he couldn't bring himself to believe that proper eternal love could exist.
That's what soul mates were about anyway, isn't it? The idea that you could have a sort of love with someone that transcends through just life and death. It's something more than that, and Phil didn't think someone like him was capable of giving that to someone like Dan. They were the same, except Dan was so much better than he was, something Phil didn't want to think about, but knew was the truth.
"Yeah, I guess." That was all Phil said.
Phil saw love when he looked at Dan. He saw life, but he also saw insufficiency and flaws in himself, and he'd never want to touch the perfection of the boy he'd only just met. Dan was too beautiful to be wrecked by him. Too god damn beautiful.
He was made certain of this, when he felt himself fall asleep in the forest, to the sound of a familiar voice, cooing him to sleep. "And all the sweethearts that e'er I had, they would wish me, one more day to stay."
*
The cold never felt so strange, when Dan woke up alone the next morning, without the feeling of Phil's warm embrace. He didn't think much of it though, thinking Phil had things to do. He did smile a little, however, at the scarf wrapped around his neck. It was blue, and it reminded him of Phil's pretty eyes.
What Dan didn't know then was, it was the only thing he'd have left of Phil. The only solid, concrete proof, that Phil wasn't just a fragment of his imagination, and that his memories and feelings with him were real. It was probably harder that way though, having to handle the heartbreak, instead of brushing aside like it was just all a dream.
You see, Dan waited everyday in the forest. Same spot, same time, for the man that never came back. The light in his eyes that shone the brightest around Phil had now faded to a certain kind of solemn. After a few days, he finally plucked up the courage to face the harshest reality, as he discovered that his fears were realised. "Phil Lester? He checked out a couple of days back, said he was off to find a new adventure."
Maybe that was all that had been to Phil Lester, just another adventure, just another pretty thing to kill his time with. Dan didn't know if he could handle it, but he was learning slowly that he would have to regardless. Loneliness never felt as lonely as it did then.
*
Dan never told anyone, about the feeling of completion and ecstasy he felt those days. He didn't think anyone would understand. He went back to the forest on some days, talking to himself. This happened even as the seasons changed, and it was spring, and then summer, which was the opposite of the freezing cold of winter. He always carried the scarf with him even on those days though, as a reminder of could have beens.
Although Dan was twenty one now, and he was far more grown and handsome than his nineteen year old self, nobody ever looked at him the way Phil had. Nobody ever treated him like he had, nobody ever seemed to get him like he had. Maybe Dan was being slightly overdramatic, and he should probably get over something as fleeting as that thing he had going on with an older stranger two years back, but until he found someone that could match up to what he felt on those day, he didn't feel like he could.
He did find Phil's website though, and that comforted him a little, knowing that he could, at least, travel the world with Phil in spirit, even he didn't really want him there. What pained him most, was that Phil never did post anything about his town, as though the entirety of his time at the town, had not been good enough for Phil Lester's eyes.
While all of that was happening, Phil never stopped traveling, just like he did before meeting Dan. Every day, he would fill his camera with the newest exciting thing he found, and when all the memory i his camera was full, he would transfer them all into his laptop, leaving his favourite photos. He didn't post anything about Dan's town. It felt too intimidate to be shared with the world, like the hundreds of photos he had taken of Dan sleeping, Dan talking, the forest spot where they met, the spot at the motel they stood when Phil kissed someone for the very first time. Phil had made sure to take a picture of everything there before he left, because he knew that Dan was something he wanted to remember, always.
"I always let my heart take me to wherever it feels like is right, and today my heart points towards love. They say home is where the heart is, and that's where I'm going. I never post anything personal here, but I thought I'd just let you all know because I don't think I'll be posting anything on here for a while. I'll be sure to let you all know soon." Dan felt his heart sink a little. Phil had fallen in love, and he had known Phil wasn't going to remember him, had known that it was going to happen someday, Phil finding someone else. What he hadn't known though, was that the pang in his heart then, was going to hurt that bad.
*
As the familiar cold of winter was welcomed into the little town Dan lived, Dan was sat in the forest spot once more. It was on this date that he had woken up to Phil's eyes on his, two years ago. It was also then when Dan decided he needed closure. Phil wasn't going to come back, and Dan needed to be happy, for Phil and for himself. So he danced around the spot he was on, feeling like a kid again, playing around by the trees by himself when he felt himself trip over the protruding roots of a barren tree as he landed on the ground.
"Fact number 498: I'm a klutz. I trip over everything," he heard a voice call out from behind him, and Dan never felt himself turn around to something faster.
There he was, bloody Phil Lester, still as tall and beautiful as he remembered, only this time his eyes looked a deeper shade of blue, his hairstyle a little more mature, and his frame a little stronger. "Fact number 498: I have insanely good memory, and I can remember random things from years ago," Dan said slowly, a confused smile creeping onto his face.
"Guess neither of us were lying then," Phil said as he helped Dan up from the ground, "We stopped right there, didn't we?" Phil pulled Dan into an embrace as he whispered, "Fact number 499: I think you look even more beautiful now than you did two years ago, and you were the most beautiful person I've ever came across."
Dan felt tears spring into his eyes but he held them back, "Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be back at London?" He let the confusion and sarcasm seep into his tone of voice, he didn't want to get played again.
"I knew you'd find my website. Internet stalker, you said you were, didn't you?" Phil laughed a little, before his face turned serious. "Well Dan, I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, and I've had a lot of regrets. I think leaving you here was the worst. I guess it was a stupid move, and I won't blame you for hating me, or for even forgetting my existence. London had never been home for me, Dan. I never had one, not till I met you. Yeah it took me two years of traveling in circles to realized that I want nothing more then to return home, and that's to you." Phil took a deep breath, holding Dan tighter, not wanting to lose his embrace for even a second. He had missed this.
"Those short days we spent together, I've never felt like that for someone as I did with you. That scared me off a lot, I didn't think I could be good enough for someone like you, Dan. Two years later, I still don't think I'd ever be able to give you everything I want you to have, but now I figured that I don't want any more regrets. I want to try, see if you'd have me stay as much as I'd want to. Remember when you asked me about me believing in soul mates? I didn't then, but if I can't help but bring myself back to you even after two fucking years, then I'd be a fool for believing anything else." By the time Phil was done speaking, both men were crying into the other, because they had both been fools. They told each other so much about themselves, but not enough of the things that mattered.
"You're really stupid and I really, really hate you. I never stopped thinking about you and just as I was ready to forget, you just come running back and I wish it didn't feel so damn right, but it does," Dan said honestly, slightly hitting Phil's chest.
"Fact number 500: I think I love Phil Lester, and I'd like him to stay." Dan said, before eagerly kissing Phil on the lips. "Fact number 500: I think I love Dan Howell, and I'd like to stay." Phil replied, his smile never quite as bright.
Far too much time had been wasted and Phil thought then, that he wanted to make the most of the rest of his life, only now with Dan by his side. And with that, the pictures on Phil's website were no longer that of the dazzling streets and sculptures he saw, but that of the forever he wanted to build with the boy he met in the most unlikely of places.