i made like six more of these but they won't freaking upload

Strawberry Kisses

So I have written this fic for billyiscoolerthanyou because she won my little contest from a while ago!

Her prompt was: Dan feels depressed and has an eating disorder and Phil finds out. (Ending will be cute) ———————————— One… two… three… four… Dan was counting the little leaves he plucked off the strawberries, one by one. It was a hypnotizing occupation, actually. The smell seemed more amazing than ever before. Five… six… seven… ‘Dan?’ Phil’s voice went through his whole body and full of shock he dropped the strawberry on the ground. Quickly he picked it upagain, but didn’t eat it. He hadn’t even heard Phil coming in. 'Phil, what’s up?’ 'Why have you been sitting here for twenty minutes, looking at that strawberry?’ 'Excuse me!? I have eaten them, too, weirdo.’ That was a lie, and he felt Phil knew.  'Then why are there no less strawberries on the plate?’ Phil spoke, pointing at the plate on their living room table. 'I bought more this morning and just put them on the plate, too. It looks so ugly when the plate’s only half full, that’s the reason.’ 'Oh, okay.’ Phil sighed. 'I’m unexpectedly going to eat in town with Louise now, do you feel like coming with us?’ 'Nah, sorry man, already got plans.’ 'With who?’ It was quiet for a moment. 'The internet, very romantic,’ Dan tried to joke it off. 'That’s stupid. You haven’t seen friends like Louise for so long! Well, anyway, if you feel like coming, we’re at the Cat Café.’ Phil went to leave but just before the door he stopped and turned around. 'Dan, please eat that freaking strawberry, you’ve been holding that for minutes now.’ And with that, he left. Dan didn’t eat the strawberry. —– Fuck, he’d lost count. Where was he? Eighty-five? He’d probably been doing this too long. He picked up the strawberries with their plucked leaves and wrapped them in some toilet paper and threw them in the garbage bin. The toilet paper was necessary, as otherwise Phil would find out he hadn’t eaten them but thrown them away. This is what he had done with most of his food for the last four months.  Now it was time to weigh himself. Phil was in town again with Louise, so he didn’t have to be too secretive. It was three days ago when they went to th Cat Café and Dan couldn’t help but feel a little put aside, even though it was mostly his own fault. He walked to the bathroom and opened the little cupboard in which the scale was placed. There was a toothbrush on it, which Dan shove aside. He then took out the scale, stepped on it and closed his eyes, waiting for it to show him how heavy he was. —– One hundred twenty. One fucking hundred twenty pounds. He hadn’t even lost that much weight. Disappointing, to say the least. He placed the scale back in the cupboard and went to his room. Just then he realized how much he hated other things counting him, measuring him, telling him what he was. He shove his curtains aside and starting looking outside. London. The weather represented quite well how he felt. Cloudy, grey, the sun trying to shine through but not succeeding. Sometimes thoughts of simply jumping out of the window wandered through his head. It wasn’t that he wanted to die, but he just didn’t see the joy in living anymore. Everything was fucked up. He looked awful these days. Fat, tired and sick. Often he felt guilty for not finding the motivation to upload more videos. And then there was Phil, who made things so much better and so much worse at the same time.  Hopelessly in love. That was all there really was to say. Phil was the first and last thing he’d think about everyday and the fact that Phil would often rather go out with friends than stay at home with Dan was hurting him. It was absolutely normal and realistic for Phil to do that, but still Dan often felt forgotten and less loved by Phil than before. The definition of that 'love’ was unclear to Dan. They were best friends, but sometimes Dan thought there was more. Their cuddles just lasted a little too long. But then again it may just be wishful thinking. —– Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine… twelve o'clock. Phil had said he’d be home by twelve. Dan couldn’t help but always wait for Phil to come home when he’d gone out. Not that he’d let Phil know, he’d do it secretely by simply staying awake in bed until he’d hear Phil enter their apartment. He just had to be sure Phil got home safely. Probably because Phil was the only thing in his life that could sometimes make him smile and actually feel good and he just had to be sure that his only source of gladness was sage. Pathetic, he thought of himself. Phil’s an adult, not a kid. Stop treating him like a baby. He isn’t a baby. He isn’t your baby. He isn’t yours. Just as he got lost in his own self-destructing thoughts again, as he’d do every night, he heard a door click. Then something fell on the floor. Now he was sure it was Phil, as Phil would always drop something on the floor when he came home. Some kind of undiscovered and useless talent. But Phil was home, and now he could sleep. —– Three knocks. Dan groaned. What the fuck? He had finally fallen asleep. Was this death to tell him his life was finally over? 'Dan?’ Suddenly Dan was completely awake. He looked at the clock and saw it was only one o'clock. 'Phil, what’s wrong?’ Dan sat up straight in his bed. 'You’re asking me!?’ He sounded angry. 'What the fuck? Phil, I haven’t done anything and it’s midnight! If you won’t explain then go away please.’ 'If only you gave me the time to explain!’ 'Can’t it wait till the fucking morning?’ 'No!’ Dan didn’t feel like yelling back again. Not at Phil. Phil was never angry, especially not with Dan, so this kinda scared him. 'Let’s talk in the living room, Phil.’ 'No, let’s do it here. Dan….’ Phil sighed. 'Why are you destructing yourself?’ Silence. Dan could count the seconds, but didn’t. More important things were happening. 'What are you even talking about!?’ 'Dan, I’ve seen for months you’re not well. But since this week it’s going downhill so fast…’ 'Excuse me!?’ Dan so didn’t feel like having this conversation. Phil shouldn’t and wouldn’t know. 'Dan… I- I’ve seen it. The scale. I mean, that you are trying to lose weight.’ 'That’s fucking bullshit!’ 'You moved the toothbrush. That I placed on it. So you have weighed yourself. A lot, actually. Don’t lie, I know.’ Dan was shocked. Stunned. Numb.  'Dan, I only want to-’ 'WHY do you interfere with my life!? Just keep your head out of my business Phil!! I can’t believe you!’ 'You’re skinny. I don’t want you to kill yourself.’ 'Please get out of my room. How dare you!’ 'Dan, please-’ 'I said get OUT. You clearly don’t give a fuck about my privacy or me-’ And that’s when Phil walked, almost ran from the door towards Dan and forced his lips on Dan’s. Rough, yet full of love. Angry, but so soft. Their lips slided against each other and the feeling warmed Dan up inside. Phil grabbed Dan’s neck and automatically Dan’s hand went to Phil’s back. They bit each other’s lips and grabbed each other harder to be closer. It was very wet and full of all the emotions they had both recently felt. Suddenly Dan felt tears rolling over his cheeks. Phil probably tasted the salt in their kisses, as he looked up to see Dan crying. 'Phil… I’m so confused.'  Phil hugged Dan, who placed his head in the crook of Phil’s shoulder. 'I understand, Dan. Fuck, why do you destroy yourself? You’re so precious. So amazing, so full of love and kindness.’ 'I don’t know, Phil, I don’t know.'  'You have weighed yourself more than fifty times. I counted.’ 'Please don’t count everything I do. Ever. Not anymore.’ 'I can’t promise that if you’re still doing that yourself.’ 'What do you mean?’ 'Dan, can’t you see? You are the only one measuring yourself, hating you. That’s because you measure everthing about you. Not because other people or other things do that.’ 'I can’t stop counting, Phil.’ 'Maybe not. But you can stop counting that. You should start counting other things.’ 'Like?’ Phil kissed him. 'Like how many kisses I will give you from now on each day.'  Dan smiled. 'Or how many times… I make you laugh!’ And with that Phil started tickling Dan’s tummy. 'PHIL! PHI- STOP!!’ Dan laughed and Phil stopped. 'Or… how many times I will tell you I love you?’ Phil spoke, with slight hesitation. 'Why was there a question mark?’ 'Because I wasn’t sure how you’d react…’ 'I love you, Phil.’ 'I love you too, Dan.’ They both smiled. —– 'Phil?’ 'Yeah?’ It was twenty minutes later. They’d just been sitting on Dan’s bed, talking calmly and sometimes share little kisses. 'Will you stay here with me? Tonight? Just to- sleep?’ 'Yes, under one condition…’ 'Which is?’ 'Wait here.’ Phil stood up from the bed and walked out of the bedroom. A minute later he came back with a strawberry.  'Eat this and then I’ll stay here for the night.’ Dan hesitated. 'For me?’ Phil added. Dan smiled. 'Okay…’ Phil handed him the strawberry, which he ate, while still smiling. 'Tastes good.’ Phil snuck in the bed besides Dan and pulled the blankets over the both of them. 'We’ll get through this, Dan, together. I love you.’ 'Seven.’ 'What?’ 'You said you loved me seven times today. I counted’