prompt: Southview Boarding School isn’t a castle and Phil Lester isn’t royalty, but he has everything. His father owns the school, he’s popular, has the best room, gets all the best treatment – there are very few things that aren’t handed to him on a platter. Dan is a cleaner/Phil’s personal maid there, and he isn’t as lucky. Everyone seems to take an aversion to the outsider, including Phil (at first).
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As it goes, right now it’s literally Thursday night it’s like 2am and I only just realised I haven’t written any of this yet. Who’s proud of me????
I cant believe the amount of pokemon go references in this chapter I s2g I haven’t even got the fucking app myself WHY am I like this
also things will probably get progressively emo from here onwards. The rise of Emo Dan has begun
warnings: mention of anxiety/panic attacks (kinda), nightmares, not rllllly smut but just kinda ??? sexual tension??? Idk this was a mess lol
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Twelve
Since he’d been warned about the school’s stupidly high security, Dan has been taking extra precautions when it comes to his midnight walks. Phil, on the night of being caught in the undercroft, had given him a specific list of places to avoid, paths that should only be crossed with the lightest tiptoes (such as the one behind the Senior Management boarding house) and CCTV blind spots like the back of the Sports Hall, which is where Dan is sat now.
It’s not like he does anything outrageous enough to have a reason to be hiding from the cameras lurking around the school. He doesn’t smoke, doesn’t do drugs, rarely drinks and keeps well away from the cornered-off areas of the school where access is forbidden and heavy punishments are at stake. It’s just- well, it’s just what he’s always done, really. There’s nothing quite like leaving the hell of a full working day with the sunset and escaping into the night for a while.
Because apparently, a few hours under the stars, sitting on the side of the path or a bench (maybe even the roof of somewhere if he can get to it), huddled up in his dressing gown shaking like a leaf in the cold is apparently his idea of leisure.
But it’s peaceful. The stress of the day’s work, the anxiety and the smashed plates and aggressive colleagues and customers who don’t leave tips, all seem to melt away as soon as he tilts his head up and sees the stars. He’ll try his best to ignore the foggy mess of worries and dark thoughts and creeping anxiety and instead try to focus on the glittering pinpoint lights above him and wonder what makes the universe exist.