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He looked towards the boxes packed in the living room, they had well and truly run out of space in that spare room, as well as any other small room in the house. Every single one of their belongings was packed, except a single mattress on the floor they planned to chuck into the moving van and take to the new house tomorrow.
The new home.
He walked towards one particular box labelled "old stuff" sitting in the middle of the living room where the lounge used to sit. He remembered him and Dan kind of chucking the things from the drawers into it without much of a thought, probably planning to throw it away or give it to charity the minute they had settled down enough to think about something other than financials or all the discarded stuff left behind couches and bed backboards.
It was a quiet night, nothing left to do yet take the last of the boxes. He had no responsibilities tonight.
Phil sat down next to it, lifting the not-yet-taped-shut lid and peering inside. It was a reasonably sized box, definitely big and heavy enough that someone like him would need two sets of hands to carry it, but a wide reached muscular man could probably do the job just fine.
Phil had definitely felt weird today, a tighter feeling in his chest and a fluttering nervousness in his stomach. It was more apparent right now though as he took out the first item attached with a thick black wire.
Tetris blocks, the light up kind you can get in dollar stores.
He remembers the first time he brought those, standing at the cash register next to Dan, the two buying separately as they didn't yet have a joint bank and no shame in sharing money.
It was a nice memory, made Phil smile. Reminded him of a simpler time where neither could have ever predicted what the future had for them. What the future had for him.
He placed the light on the floor, pulling out another item.
Another light up, lamp this time, in the shape of a stuffed bear with a little lamp head on top.
The bear was worn but soft. It smelt of Dan, bringing Phil back memories of years ago and the candles they had lit on rainy days huddled in bed, spending the whole day unproductively watching whatever show or movie they were into at the time.
The bear fluff smelt of vanilla and musk, the type of scents Dan would light when he was in control of the candles.
It made him feel nostalgic like he hadn't felt in a while. He was the type of person to seek out nostalgia in listening to old music and sitting at his old house on Google maps, but he didn't feel it with Dan. Sure maybe a memory of an event would pop up and he'd indulge, but Dan felt like an infinite forever thing that he just never felt like he had to miss.
Right now he was missing a young love, that feeling when you first move in with someone, when you're in your first years of first times.
He gave it a small squeeze before placing it next to the Tetris block, his hands smelt of candle wax.
A few miscellaneous books were laying in view so Phil picked them up one by one, briefly reading titles by authors such as Steven King or George Orwell. They all had individual universes living inside of them that Phil felt himself submersed and apart of it while reading the inked pages. He didn't exactly believe in stories being gateways to alternate realities but that's exactly how he thought of them, they were all realities somewhere out there and that thought gave him comfort.
He picked up another different item, a small decorative character that seemed like a throwaway ornament at the time. A Chinese fridge statue sat proudly in his palm.
The pig shaped figure had a symbol on it meaning "double happiness" in Chinese, it was a cute little thing a friend gave them, it would sit in the fridge door and say "hello" in both Chinese and Japanese whenever you opened it.
Phil didn't think he could miss a fridge greeting.
He almost wished it would talk to him right now, but Phil has a feeling it would give him a craving for midnight snacks.
Not that that would be so bad, midnight snacks while watching movies on the sofa, huddled in a cocoon were his favourite nights. Sometimes Dan would join him, and Phil loved that just as much, but sometimes the dark bliss of being alone at such an hour felt nice and safe.
He felt an emotional attachment to this tiny creature, it hurt his heart a little to know that he would probably never hear its sing-song again.
Flipping it around in his hand a few times, he placed the plastic down next to the rest of the pile.
There were a few more books in the way before he could get to the last item, he was feeling his way down to the bottom until he felt something cold and glassy, grabbing it by the side he realised it was a picture frame.
A Muse poster, wrapped in glass and a frame.
It was the size of the box itself and he held it in both his hands, feeling a small tug at his heart.
They only had this up recently, and would probably keep it somewhere in the new house, but with Phil's wave of emotions and noticing that the glass has scratched slightly while being in the box, he felt his eyes well up.
It was just a simple paper poster with all the album covers and the Muse logo, but it felt like so much more.
I would have to replace the frame, he thought subconsciously looking at the tiny scratches on it. He couldn't bare something that precious to be damaged.
It was so much more than just a poster. It was his favourite memories, his teenage years, the root of his nostalgia and happiness, and his first conversation with the love of his life.
This band was how he survived his high school and University years, it brought him home in a way he never thought music could. It's amazing how something as simple as an indie rock band can be so life changing.
People you've never met can change your life.
He almost didn't want to put it down. He felt like he was somehow letting something go by doing so, and he was in a way, he was letting go of close memories as they got further and further away with age.
His throat was clogged when he placed the glass back in the box, ready to pack everything he took out back in to take tomorrow.
It really hurt to know that this was the last time they will be moving. Although it was a pain sometimes, it was still some of the happiest memories of his life.
Freaking out over going to a University for the first time, feeling too young to be growing up this quick.
Driving in the car with his parents, boxes and moving gear surrounding him and a tight strange feeling in his stomach.
Holding hands walking into the Manchester apartment for the first time, looking around at their new home and smiling unabashedly at each other.
Laying on the unfurnished floor of the London apartment, all sweat and frustration over building shelves.
Spending the first evening of the second London apartment on the balcony eating cereal and laughing until 3am, looking up at the stars covered in blankets and cuddles.
Although things leave and they change, Dan will stay with him. His things will stay with him. His conscious will stay with him.
It wasn't really a change, really, but it felt like it. On a universal and symbolic level it felt like it.
Everywhere else had just been a house, another place to put their stuff, but this, this was their home.
Their home.
"You ready for bed, Phil?" Dan echoed through the hallway.
"Yeah be there in a sec!" Phil replied, packing the things he brought out back into the box quickly, just as they were when he opened it. He grabbed a roll of pale duct tape and pulled a strip out, breaking it off with his teeth and securing it over the lid.
And when he thought about it, Phil felt content. He felt like he had done everything, he had lived and strived and fallen.
He knew tomorrow would bring bigger things, bigger than he ever imagined, but he knew it would be okay. That everything would be okay.
He walked down the hallway to find Dan content and exhausted, RuPaul playing on his laptop.