MatiIsNotOnFire & AmazingAeryn (Dan & Phil FanFic)

When Mati and Aeryn move into a new flat, they least expect to be next door to Dan Howell and Phil Lester. It all kicks off when the girls start playing My Chemical Romance at full volume, drawing the guy's attention. Dan wants to join the party, but Phil isn't so pleased - until he sees Aeryn. The guys are shocked at first, when the girls don't recognise them from YouTube, but then they see it as a way to make genuine friends (or more?;). That is, until Aeryn figures it out, but promises to keep their fame a secret from Mati.
Mati and Dan end up being in the same law class, whereas Phil likes to stalk Aeryn to her job, at the bakery. Mati still doesn't know the boys are famous, even when they participate in some videos, thinking it's 'just a vlog'. But what will happen if she ever finds out they're famous?

Aeryn's P.O.V written by Teri (Terrance)
Mati's P.O.V written by Molly (Molsy)

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3. Strawberries

Aeryn's POV

 

Phil just looks... Amazing. He's washed his hair, and straightened it, making it look so soft, and shiny. I have the desperate urge to run my fingers through it, but I don't want to mess it up, or seem creepy, or annoy him. As for his outfit, he's wearing a blue and white plaid shirt, left unbuttoned to reveal a plain white tee, and a pair of dark denim jeans.

"I'm really sorry about the whole Chinese thing," Phil apologises, as we walk down the street, hand in hand.

"It's totally fine, I should be apologising for being the fussy one," I say, feeling the evening sun on my back.

"I prefer Italian anyway, Dan just likes Chinese," he assures me, sending me a quick smile.

I smile back at him, "So, I checked out some of your videos."

"Really?" he looks at me, surprised that I would bother doing that, "That's awesome, do you like them?"

"Yeah, you're really funny, and cute," I blurt out, without processing what I was actually saying to him.

It seems like it was the right thing to say, because he blushes, gazing at the concrete pavement in front of us. We keep the conversation going, talking about his vlogs, and he asks me if he can record us walking for a few minutes, to show his fans that he's got a date. I blush, but agree, and smile at the camera on his phone.

"Hi guys, I have a date! I know, shocking, but isn't she just beautiful?" he lets go of my hand for a second, so he can record a full length frame of me, "Anyway, her name's Aeryn, and I'm taking her out for Italian. Wish me luck!"

He ends the recording, taps a few things on his phone, before sliding it back into his pocket. Just as he does, the notification sound goes off on my phone, so I quickly check it. Phil just uploaded that video on his Facebook page, with the caption 'My date!!!' with far too many exclamation marks to count.

I feel my cheeks redden even more, as it starts gaining views. Quickly, I log out of Facebook, to stop any more notifications from the video, and to save my embarrassment. I try yo hide my flush, but Phil sees, and chuckles slightly. 

"What if your fans don't like me?" I whisper, barely audible.

He deadpans me, "First off, I don't see how they can't like you. Secondly, if they give you hate, what's the point in believing them? They don't know you, they have no right to judge you, but if they do, it's just another assumption; nothing important."

I sigh in relief, letting his words sooth me, "You're right. Thanks, Phil," I smile at him, bumping his shoulder lightly.

"It's the truth," he shrugs his shoulders, obtaining the cutest, lopsided smile ever.

About a minute later, we arrive at the Italian restaurant. It's quite small, but it's really sweet, and smells amazing, from the food already being served. Just the scent of their food has my stomach growling in anticipation, let alone the taste. We walk up to the entrance, where there's a little sign, saying 'Please wait here, to be seated.' and a rack of menus. 

"Hello, my name's Stephan, would you like a table, or take-out?" a guy appears, smiling brightly.

His uniform consists of black slacks, a black button shirt, a white waist apron, and a cute little name badge. Most likely for hygiene reasons, his sandy blonde hair is gelled back, but it suits him. He looks really manly, but then his smile is too cute, making him look boyish. I'm guessing he's around the same age as me.

"A table, for two, please," Phil smiles back, pulling me closer to him, when the waiter looks at me.

"Unfortunately, our only two seater tables are outside, is this a problem?" Stephan asks, glancing between us both.

Phil looks at me for approval, so I just say, "That's fine."

Stephan leads us back the way we came, out in front of the restaurant, where the tables are. There's a red and white striped canopy overhead, shading all of the tables. Some people sit around the tables, eating, talking, laughing; it's a really sweet atmosphere. We're placed at a table, a reasonable length away from anyone else, to give us some privacy.

Bushes line the outside seating area, but I'm still able to see the street next to us. A few cars drive by, and opposite us, there's a row of Spanish styled cottages. This doesn't feel like London at all, it's so peaceful, and serene. As we sit, Phil pulls my chair out for me, lightly kissing my forehead, before taking his own seat. I try desperately to hide the blush working it's way up my neck, also trying to ignore the tingling feeling he left behind.

"Can I get you guys any drinks?" Stephan asks, flipping open a notebook.

Phil gestures for me to order first, so I say, "Um, I'll just have a Diet Coke."

"Okay, and you, Sir?" 

"Make that two," Phil smiles, and Stephan scribbles our order down, putting the notebook into the pocket on his apron.

"Okay, here are your menus, I'll be back in a bit with your drinks, and to get your orders," he flashes his teeth, before going back inside.

The chairs we're sitting on, are white, basket material, curved around at the back, with arms. The table is white metal, with a red and white chequered table cloth over it. The red on the cloth matches the red of the roses in the bushes beside us. On the table, there's two wine glasses, a little wooden block holding up some special offers, and the cutlery, wrapped in a white napkin. In the middle of the table, there's a cream candle, not yet lit, because it's still light outside.

"This place is really sweet," I say, gazing out at the Spanish cottages opposite us.

I see Phil smile from the corner of my eye, "So, I picked the right place?"

"Definitely," I nod once, looking back at him.

"I'm glad, I really want this to go well," he tells me, blushing slightly.

I send him a reassuring smile, and pick up my menu, giving it a once over, before reading it in more detail. The thing is... I can't read it. The print is too small for me, and my bad eyesight. Shamefully, I open my clutch bag, and take my glasses out, placing them on my face. They're the same purple colour as my hair, and classed as the 'Geek Chic' frame. Mati says they suit me, but I hate them more than anything. Phil is so silently judging me.

"Aw, you're just too cute in glasses!" Phil coos, and I look down in shame.

"Shut up, I hate them," I say, but I can't help smiling.

"I'll wear mine, too, if it makes you feel any better?" he offers, sweetly.

Before I can even say anything, he takes them out of his pocket, and puts them on. They're black framed, with rectangular shaped lenses. I bite my bottom lip, to either hold back my giggle, or to stop myself from noticing how attractive he looks in glasses. Probably both. 

"You look adorkable," I say, taking his glasses off of his face.

Smoothly, I take mine off, and put his on. His glasses make everything a lot clearer than what mine do, it's like high definition. He puts mine on too, and snaps a picture of us both on his phone. We laugh it off, and switch back to our normal glasses, finally reading the menu.

Just at the right time, Stephan comes back, as we finally decide what we want to order. He places our drinks down, and it's not exactly the normal Diet Coke. It's in a weird shaped glass, with ice, a slice of lemon on the edge of the glass, and a little pink umbrella floating in it. If this place can make Coke fancy, they can make anything fancy.

Phil orders for us, so I just play with the end up my hair, contemplating whether I should dip dye it purple, to match my bangs. Would it look good? Or would it look to over the top? Maybe I should ask for Phil's opinion... To be honest, he'll probably just say it would look good, to keep me happy.

We continue talking, about anything and everything. He has a major in English Language, from a few years of University. I tell him that I can speak Spanish, and a little bit of Italian, which seems to fascinate him. He's impressed by my love for art, so I show him some of my work, from photos on my phone. His favourite one is a sketch of a lion, I did a few years back. In the picture, the scenery is realistic, but the lion is a cartoon. Maybe I could find it, and give it to him...

Our starter arrives, it's pizza-shaped focaccia bread, to share. It's already sliced, so we eat, but the conversation keeps going. Phil seems like the kind of person who won't let a conversation die, no matter how weird it gets. Those are the kind of people I like. The bread is absolutely delicious, and still warm from being freshly baked. The rosemary tastes fresh, as if they picked it themselves this morning.

"So, do you have any brothers, or sisters?" he asks, finishing off his last bit of the bread.

"Yeah, I have a twin brother. He's called Ciaran, and we look nothing alike," I tell him, smiling slightly.

"Do you get along? Or do you argue a lot?" Phil takes a sip of his drink.

"We get along most of the time, but sometimes we fight. I've got a tattoo of his name on my collarbone," I say, pulling all of my hair over onto one shoulder.

The dress' neckline is quite low, but I have to pull the strap over slightly, because it's quite wide. I look down, to check that you can actually see the tattoo, accidentally along with part of my bra. Ciaran is written in black ink, over my right collarbone, in a calligraphic font. 

"That's really sweet of you. Do you have any other tattoos?" Phil says, and I feel a bit awkward, because it looks like he's looking at my chest, but he's only looking at the tattoo.

"Mhmm, I have Mati on my left collarbone," I pull my hair over to my other shoulder, and show him that tattoo, too, "I also have the infinity symbol on the nape of my neck, a dragon going up my spine, and a rose on a place you can consider yourself lucky, if you ever get to see it."

Just to clarify, the tattoo is only on my inner thigh, I'm too scared to get a butt or boob tattoo. They must hurt way more... Anyway.

He blushes bright red at that statement, and I giggle, "I don't have any tattoos," he says, clearing his throat, "I don't think I could ever withstand the pain."

"They're not that bad. They hurt, but they're really addictive," I laugh slightly, remembering how much I wanted to get that rose tattoo.

Our main course arrives. I have fettuccine bolognese, whereas Phil has linguine frutti di mare. Mine is basically spaghetti bolognese, but with thicker pasta. Phil's is ribboned pasta, with king prawns, mussels, squid, and clams, all in a tomato sauce. It looks delicious, and we start eating right away.

"Do you want to try some?" Phil asks, gesturing to his plate.

I shake my head, "I don't eat sea food."

"Oh, why not? Are you allergic?" he looks a little panicked, that I could be allergic to his dinner.

"No, no, no, calm down, Phil," I chuckle,"It's vegetarian reasons. I'll tell you when you're not eating seafood, in case it puts you off, or something."

"Oh, okay," he breathes out, in relief, looking a lot more relaxed.

"Want to try some of mine?" I offer, a perfect amount of pasta wrapped around my fork.

"Sure," he agrees, and I feed him the mouthful, "That's really good," he says, once he's swallowed it.

We finish up our main courses, and take a look at the dessert menu. I'm pretty full, but there's always room for dessert. Phil ordered strawberry cheesecake, for us to share, as I'm pretty sure I'll have a heart attack if I eat a whole dessert to myself. 

"Are you trying to find a job, to do with art?" Phil asks, when we get back onto the occupation subject.

"Actually, I kind of have one. I have a job in a bakery, it's really close to our flat block, but I don't quite know where it is," I sheepishly tell him.

"Oh, I know where it is. I can take you there on your first day, if you like?" he suggests, and I nod, "You've got yourself a good job; it's a really expensive patisserie. What are you going to be doing, in there?"

"Mainly cake decorating, for special orders - that's where the art comes in. I took a GCSE in catering, so I have the qualifications," I say, as the cheesecake arrives.

It's quite big, covered in whipped cream, and freshly picked strawberries. We both cut into it, and eat a mouthful. It's really creamy, and the biscuit isn't soggy, so overall, a good cheesecake. Feeling a wave of immaturity, I tap my spoon on his nose, getting whipped cream on him. I giggle, when he pouts, so I lean over the table, and kiss the cream from his nose. He blushes, and I smirk.

We finish the slice of cheesecake, so there's some strawberries left. Phil picks one up by the stalk, and feeds it to me. I bite the tip of it off, and Phil bites the rest of it off, putting the green bit back onto the plate. Well, I'm not going to lie, but I'm finding this very attractive. That's how we finish the remaining strawberries, and sit back to watch the sun set

The sky turns a soft orange colour, mixed in with dark pink. The sun shines out over the top of one of the buildings, creating a really beautiful scene. It starts to get colder, and I feel Phil wrap his shirt around my shoulders, so he's just wearing a white tee. His body warmth radiates from it, and I send him a thank-you smile.

"This is the best first date ever," I tell him, tearing my gaze away from the sun set, to meet his even more beautiful eyes.

"I can give you the best second date ever, too, if you let me?" he hints.

"I'd love that," I grin at him, and we stand up, ready to leave.

Phil already paid, despite my efforts to split the bill, but no, he insisted on paying. We walk back to the flat block, our arms around each others waist, mainly because I don't want Phil to get cold. Once we're out the lift, we hug for a few minutes, enjoying the last moment of the date. I pull my head back from his chest, but keep my arms around him, and stand on my tiptoes.

"So, see you tomorrow?" I say, our lips about an inch apart.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," he replies, his eyes flickering between my own, and my lips.

I move my head forward half an inch, as does he, and I feel his lips on mine. My eyes flutter close, butterflies erupt in my stomach, and his touch is making goose bumps rise all over my skin. When he pulls away, my lips burn, wanting more of his touch, but I settle for a quick kiss on his cheek.

Without saying anything else, I walk back into my flat. Yes, Mati took the key. No, she didn't lock the door. Genius. Of course, we have our own keys, but we were meant to be going out together, so there was only point in taking one key. I close the door behind myself, and lean against it, sighing loudly. 

When Mati gets home, we're going into full fangirl mode, assuming her date went as well as ours...

 


A/N: It's officially weird Wednesday! Teri and I (this is molly btw) went in town town with cat whiskers, inspired by Dan and Phil of course! :3 thanks to anyone who's read our story so far :D  ~Molly

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