Love's Sorrow

#1

A/N: okay guys, this isn't going to like start off as you think it might. It'll be a little confusing at first, but you'll get it in a few. Well, I love you!

Phil:
"Okay Danny, your turn now." I smiled and stared at Dan, a smirk plastered onto my face as he glared at me. The two of us were tresspassing on the high school feild, having a picnic.

"Ah. Don't call me that." Dan said. He picked up a strawberry from the basket and popped it into his mouth. He hummed, trying to come up with a question that could stump me. Then, Dan's finger pointed up as he hit a light bulb.

"When looking. . . At a. . . Painting, what type of colours do you look for?" And with the expression on his face, I can tell that he wanted an immediate or a possibly soon answer. That I can not give him. I'm too shallow to think or process stuff as quick as he can.

Two minutes tick by as I think up any possible answer that could satisfy him. . . Nothing came up. . . Well, actually I think I know what to say now. Oops.

"Hmm. . I don't know, uh I guess I look for my favourites or the ones that stand out the most. . . you know?" I looked at Dan, who was taking my anwer in thoughtfully. I hoped he would relate to me at least a little.

"That makes sense." Dan smiled warmly in my direction. I melted a little on the inside. I shrugged off the feeling quickly and adverted my attention to the stars. Dan ate another strawberry.

"Well, what do you look for in a painting?" I ask. I peeked at Dan. I sighed, still alive and attractive.

Not me, Dan. He's attractive. And alive. Ugh.

"I guess," Dan started, I jumped. "When colours say 'Hey! Look at me!' I'll. Look at them, but I also look at how everything molds together, or the colors that were used as a base and aren't important at all because its in the background. Every color on a painting -to me- is special." Dan's expression shifts four times while he says this: tired, excited, disappointment, then to peacefull. I wonder why. I look away from him, trying to not get flustered all over again.

When I sneek a peek at Dan, he has this smile on his face like he's won the lottery. This is usually the kind of smile that makes me want to just reach over and kiss him. . . But I can't. We're just friends and I dont have any guts to, and he's straight, and I'm disgusting, and he's the definition of beaty while mine is of the beast.

"Phil- are you okay?" Dan pushes away the picnic basket, scoots closer to me, and cups my face with his hands.

"Phil, you're crying. What's wrong?" Dan asks. I see t he worry flash in his eyes. Weird. I realize that I am crying, causing me to push away Dan's hands and cover my face with my own. He then wraps his arms around me as I sob.

I try not to shiver when he breaths close to ny ear. I failed. Ths is so weird and confusing, and-

"Hey, you're cold. Take this." Dan removes himself and shrugs off his jacket. He gently drapes it across my shoulders.

"Why don't we just head on to my house, sound good?" he says as he stands up, dusting off his jeans while doing so.

"Yeah, I'll hel-mmf!" Dan interrupted me by tossing the plaid blanket that we were sitting on in my face. Already folded up to perfection.

"I'll pack up, you carry." With that, I nodded, shifting the blanket under my keft arm. Once Dan was done putting everything away, I grabbed the basket with my free hand.

"Let's go."

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Ayyye. Two a/n's in a row? I know right. Wel, sorry that It's short, I just really wanted to update so here you go! If you're confused, youll get it soon.

Well, i love yall and have a good day! *gives swuareflke to self bc nobody's reading this lane excuse of a story.*