"Hey Dan, come over here, quick!"

I heard this muffled shout through the music from my earphones. I took them off and held my hands there, an earphone in each, tilting my head. After a couple moments I got up and made my way to the door, pushing my chair back and walking around my bed.

"Phil?" I shouted to the hallway after I opened the door. Then I walked into the hallway. What was this twat doing again? He had been quiet for quite a while now, which made me more than a little suspicious. We edited and posted another gaming video yesterday so he couldn't possibly be busy editing.

"I hope this isn't another prank," I muttered as I walked into the kitchen. Phil was standing at the stove, his back to me, fumbling around who seemed to be a bunch of pots. The kitchen counter was a mess of opened packets and bags of powder. I had the urge to sneak up to his unsuspecting form and tickle his sides. That's what he deserved after calling me over from my work and not even paying any attention to me.

But he was handling hot equipment and was naturally clumsy so I decided I'd rather not have a third degree burn to end this day off, thank you very much. I walk up to him and asked "What are you doing?" while putting my chin on his shoulder.

He jerked, loosing his grip on his wooden spoon and knocking my chin off his shoulder. I fell hard, since I didn't expect him to throw my off so suddenly. He elbowed me in the face and pretty soon I was rolling around on the floor in agony.

"Dan!" Phil exclaimed, and he immediately crouched down to help me up, but I was having none of it. I cover my throbbing nose with my hand, glared at him, and rolled over to face the cupboards. Behind me, I heard his stifled laughing and my face heated up in the indignity of it all. He had one hand on my arm, shaking me back and forth, and I knew the other hand would be covering his mouth and the tongue that stuck out when he laughed.

He kept on shaking me for a while, and then suddenly jumped back up to his feet, saying "Crap!" and grabbing his spoon again he resumed stirring. Curiosity got the better of me, as well as the fact that it was a little dusty on the floor, and I once again peeking over his shoulder, this time at a safe distance and with a great deal of caution.

"You need a caution sign, mate." I complained. "People need to know when they need to watch out." Phil laughed and pointed to what was in his pot.

"Here, this is what I called you over here to see," he said. Soup steamed in the pot, a light yellow tan color. It smelled like onions. "I wanted you to taste it first." Phil held up a spoonful. I took it all in my mouth and immediately regretted it. I backed away from him, fanning my mouth.

"Is it not good?" Phil asked, his face falling. "I thought it was pretty good." I roll my eyes to him and spat the soup into the sink. I took a swig of lukewarm tea from Phil's mug. "It's not that, you tit," I said, my voice going higher. "Don't shove the entire thing in my mouth! That was straight from the pot!"

"Oh," he said, looking back to the pot. He turned the fire off and looked back at me. His face brightened. "Does that mean it was actually pretty good?"

"How could I know? I couldn't even taste it since I getting my tongue burned off!" Phil laughed and spooned out soup to two different bowls. I fumbled around the cupboard and pulled out two spoons. On the cutting board were two chunks of bread and I put those on a plate and joined him at the table.

I hadn't realized that I was hungry until I got there and my stomach growled. Phil smiled when he heard the noise and inside my head I dared him to say something. He didn't and I laughed inside, calling him all sorts of demeaning British insults. He laughed in real life and I knew that he knew all the weird scenarios that went on in my head.

I polished off the soup in a matter of minutes, soaking the bread in the drops left in the bowl. "That was delicious," I praised, truly meaning it. "What is this?"

Phil smiled proudly. "It's leek, onion, and potato soup. And the best thing is, it's also a Delia Smith recipe!"

"Wow, this is really making me feel bad! Look at you, being all productive and spending the day cleaning and cooking while all I'm been doing is slouch in my internet position and checking Twitter," I said, making a face.

"Well, you do deserve a few rest days since all we've been doing for a year now is writing The Amazing Book is Not on Fire and creating the 7 Second App, and the tours," Phil said as he put the dishes into the sink and running them through water.

I pulled myself up and went over to him. "I'll do them. After this let's start a live show... By the way, did you see the new video danisnotonfirevyou1 posted yet?"

"No, not yet, but I'll get to it." Phil called back to me as he left and after a moment I heard his door close.

Night fell.

It was cold but when the heat was on it was stifling and dry, so I couldn't bring myself to turn it on. I got up from my bed and checked that all my windows were closed. They were, except for one, that was cracked open slightly, letting in the sharp, cold winter wind I was feeling. It was dark outside, but I could see the lights of my fellow neighborhood late-sleepers.

My mind was awake again, like it always was when it was dark outside. It was funny, how I was completely listless when it was bright outside but was energy-filled when everything else is drained, dark, and quiet. Staring at my bright screen was giving me a headache and I found myself unable to sit still or focus.

Unconsciously I found myself up and pacing. My heart quickened, my breath sped up, which had an inverse effect, and I felt like I was getting less air. From the back of my head, I heard Phil knock twice on our wall. Feeling light-headed, I forced myself to walk over and lifted my fist to return two knocks as well to let him know I was okay.

But as I got closer it felt like my wall was a mile away and I stood in front of it, my hand frozen at my side.

I sank down to the floor and pondered over why humans existed.

Why do humans exist? Moreover, why do our necks exist? What sort of function do they have again? If we had to have something that allowed us to turn around, why not have it make us able to turn around completely, like owls? Why do I have to get up and turn from my hips to look behind me? And on necks, why would giraffes have such long, useless necks, then? You would think nature would make the legs longer or have them develop the ability not to rely on tall trees instead of favoring longer and longer necks, which can also be a hindrance... Giraffes look weird.

"Dan? Dan?" I felt Phil's hand on my shoulder.

"Guhteay..." *Go Away

"Can't sleep?" He guessed. He shook his head, grabbed my arms, and dragged me across the floor, through the hallway, and into his room. My foot hit many different corners of the rooms as he did so, but as usual he went cheerfully on his way without noticing and without a care in the world.

He pulled me onto the his bed, one limb at the time, and left me there. He went back to my room to close the lights there and in the hallway. I lay on his bed, flat on my back, wondering if people who were blind could imagine and dream in color. Out of the corners of my eyes I could see him walking around, closing all the electronics. He set his phone on his nightstand, and changed into his sleepwear.

He came up to me and slid my belt off and pulled my jeans off. He pulled my shirt off and tossed my clothes off the side of his bed and onto the floor. Of course after all these years he would know I couldn't sleep if I wasn't in boxers. He got in bed, pulled his blankets out from under me.

"Move over," he said, pushing me until I rolled over to the left side, which was patterned with blocks of purple and dark blue. He slid in under the covers and threw some blankets over me as well. They were cold to the skin. Under the blankets, I feel his arms sneak up over me and his form enclosed me. My head stuck out higher than his, since I was taller, and his hair tickled my ears and his face nuzzled my bare shoulder.

It was dark. He had turned all the lights off.

It was quiet. But his heart was beating.

It was cold everywhere in the room but Phil was warm.

Slowly, I felt my limbs relax and my brain turn muddy. My eyes settled, stopped darting around, and I couldn't remember what I was so obsessed about before. My breathing evened out and my heartbeat slowly matched his.

Suddenly, I had the will to move. I turned around and wrapped my arms around him as well, entangling our legs.

I breathed one final breath of satisfaction.

Then I was asleep.