Genre: i have no idea
Words: 992
Warnings: like.. one swearword?

Okay wow I have no idea what this is... the poem was meant to be just a plot device but it sort of turned into something much longer than I meant it to be, and now I guess the poem is as much of a thing as the fic is.. it might help to explain this by saying that I had writers block for a bit but I was reading Shakespeare for school and that sort of broke it? Just think of it as racing thoughts, sorta. Also I don't know what's going on with the italics or what they mean and I had no idea how to end it so... okay this is getting long I'll just go

and oh yes the title is meant to sound like the Shakespeare quote "Parting is such sweet sorrow" like wow Stella you really need to stop adapting quotes for your fic titles

"Hey, Dan." Phil greets me as he walks through the door of the living room, looking somewhat annoyed but mostly pleased to be home again.

"You're home early!" I exclaim, suddenly realising that I've left the notebook on the other end of the couch, and it's open and it's just there. I try not to look as nervous as I am, wishing desperately that I could just reach over and close it and tuck it away but I can't, because then he'll see it for sure and he'll want to know what it is and maybe if I just leave it there he'll go off to his room and he won't even see it all. But no such luck, he walks over and sits himself down right next to me, he's facing me, maybe there can still be hope.

"Oh, yeah, well the car broke down on the way there, and by the time it had been fixed we'd already missed the booking anyway so we just decided it was easier to call it off - not too big a shame really, I mean my parents are still around for another week or two."

"Oh, alright." I say, as nonchalantly as possible, but in my mind I'm desperately trying to somehow force him not to look over there and see it - but then he does, and in the same moment as I notice the spark of interest in his eyes my heart begins to sink. All I want to do is to run and snatch it before he can read the words on the page, but I'm somehow paralysed.

"Oooh, Dan, what's this? Some sort of journal?" He picks it up and he's about to read it and then he laughs that soft little laugh, the one that completely melts my- Dan, snap out of it, he's about to read it.

But the dread only truly sets in when he starts to read the first line in that mocking sort of way that is reserved for when ten-year-old-girls read out their big sister's letters to her boyfriend.

"Love is not a blessing, nor is it a curse

Love in its finest is a thing of great beauty

A blissful conjoining of two hearts

That equally seek and desire the other."

But as Phil realises what he's reading, his voice shifts to a nice one, an oh-let's-actually-properly-read-my-roommate's-poet ry one.

"However, I fear that love can too bring despair, wrath

For should the instinctive longing be unrequited

The appreciation of such beauty and the happiness caused by one single soul

Can be harshly bittersweet."

Now I can't think straight because I may have written these words but they marry together with his smooth voice quite perfectly, and I'm still unable to anything but sit here. Being scared made way for being embarrassed which is now making way for being a little bit awestruck, because wow Phil can read poetry well and why hasn't he stopped reading yet. I get this weird feeling of just wanting him to continue.

"And should the longing grow too much

The imminent question presents:

Could an eternity of merely platonic interaction

Ever truly satisfy, ever really ebb the woes of love?"

He gets faster and slower and louder and softer in exactly the right places, and I'm beginning to think that Phil should definitely read poetry more often but then the fear sets in again and oh god soon he's going to realise who this poem's about, it's obvious isn't it, then he's going to know everything you stupid idiot why did you let him get this far - but I can't move to stop him.

"Although the answer can not ever hope to be anything but no

Somehow the minutes continue to pass

Minutes to hours

Hours to days

Days to months

Months to years

Until it seems as if I'm not dead after all

Each night spent alone with nothing but sorrow

Can seem somehow less painful

When, after dawn has again risen

I shall again hear your sweet voice

Even if it is only to utter the word 'friend'."

I'm still in shock, what's he going to say when he finishes it? Is he even going to say anything?

"For love is the most pleasant peril

And even if it kills me I will die smiling

For inexplicably

You're the cause of all my anguish yet the only thing that keeps me sane."

When I dare to look up to his face I'm surprised to find that his eyes are shining with the beginnings of tears but oh crap he's not saying anything.

"I... I think I'm just gonna go." I choke as I grab that fucking book from his hands and turn around to leave, because despite the fact that running away from your problems doesn't fix them maybe I just need to clear my head. But I find that I can't go, I can't get out of here, something's stopping me.

Pale slender fingers are clutching my wrist and I hear Phil say, "Dan... wait. Don't go. Sit down. I want to talk to you." And maybe I would have been able to resist had his voice not been so tender or had the way he clutched me not been just a little too nice, but whatever it was something compelled me to turn back around and do as he said, still desperately wishing that there was some way to turn back time and just avoid this all happening.

"Dan... did - did you write that?"

"What would you say if I said I did?"

A flash of something passed in front of his eyes.

"I'd say that I'm really impressed and that it was fantastic and maybe I've never really told you how much I like poetry before and I think I picked up something in that and maybe I'm wrong but if I'm right can you please just kiss me now or something."

and oh, yeah, at the end of my last fic I mentioned a multi-chapter story. It'll still come, and it's a work in progress but don't expect it for a little while.

Also to the person who left an anonymous review on my last fic asking if it was going to be continued, I can't respond to anonymous reviews and no, that was just a oneshot. I always select the 'Complete' option if a story is complete, so you'll be able to tell from the description