ℱ☢Ի☂ẙ €їℊℌ†

349 19 20
                                    


"So, you had sex with him?"

Phil crosses his arms, shifting his weight. He looked down at the floor watching as his feet seesaw up and down staring at the heel and ending at his toes. "Does it matter?" he growled.

Mark slumped into the bed placing both of his hands on his chest. "You know me, I could care less," with his eyes he burned through Phil's soul knowingly. "It's just a question.."

Phil hesitates. Both hands tapping his jeans as he began to stand up. He crossed in front of Mark to open the top drawer of his dark blue dresser.

Mark watched silently as Phil's hand-dipped deep into the back of the drawer digging around till he felt silk. He dreadfully lifted up the pair of panties to show as evidence.

Mark smiled. "Pink silk? Philly, you have changed—"

Phil instantly shoved Dan's panties back into safety. "Shut up, asshole."

Mark laughed, hands flowing upwards in defence. "I'm playin', I'm playin'," he utters. "So, what's the deal, show Felix?"

Phil snapped his eyes towards Mark immediately throwing out his hands. "No!"

"Just do it, it's not like you haven't done worse?"

Phil sighed loudly feeling a sudden pang in his heart. "I'm different about Dan, Mark."

"What's different?"

Phil pressed his palms into his eye sockets, shaking his head into them. "I thought...the action of.." he trailed off.

Mark twisted his mouth. "The action of..."

"The action of...liking someone at a—uh—high extent," Phil panted.

"Love?" Mark snickered.

Phil gestured towards Mark with a nod, not daring to utter the word. "I thought it was just meant for reproduction, I mean the last time I saw my parents look at each other in that—love kinda way was when mom got her job." He looked up, connecting his eyes with Mark who sat calmly in front of him. "But Dan? He has this hold over my heart that I could not break if I wanted to," his lips then perked up into a half-grin. "Dan, he's just, everything..." he stopped for a second.

Mark leans back into his seat, watching as Phil stepped over to a bean bag that laid on the floor and smashed into it.

"He's got this attitude, right? And when I say attitude I mean feisty as hell. He's confident and fiery and strong-headed and on God thinks he could beat me up." Phil shifted deeper into the beans sighing with a grin. "He knows, full well that he doesn't need me, and that alone makes me want him so much more, Mark. So much more."

Mark interlaced his fingers, head nodding and eyes squinting. "So, you're in love with one of the Spartan skirts." He smirked with his words.

Phil directed his gaze back to Mark, smile drooping like water from a faucet. A slight shrug automatically took his shoulders. "I-I can't lose him but I don't love him."

"I say, tell him everything—"

"What!?" Phil screeched.

"Come clean, tell him how you feel?" Mark fought through Phil's furious head shakes. "Listen asshole! Dan knows everything about your feelings that you love him—"

"I don't love, Mark."

Mark shot the ball in his hands at Phil, cutting him off. "Shut up, tell him that the whole thing was a bet but your feelings for him are real. Go on this whole spiel then say in order to get out of the bet you have to break up with him—but, it's fake you're not really breaking up with him you're just making it seem like you are and you can bypass that £500."

𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓+𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐒 ✭ 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐍Where stories live. Discover now