The Floaters [cake au] ✔

⌛ ➂ : my family ⌛

Chapter 3: my family.

I'd been hoping to catch Luke around at some point, so was ready to pounce when I saw him walking by the lake a few days later. "Hey Luke, wait up!" I hollered, watching him turn round as I ran over.

"Oh, hi."

"Hey... I'm sorry about what I said the other night. I didn't mean it."

"Sure," he replied, evidently still hurt by it.

"I have your clothes, by the way. And a small gift too, that I was meant to give you." This didn't seem to cheer him up at all, so I did some ad-lib and added, "I also thought we could hang out today."

"Y-you mean it?" I nodded, not seeing why it should be a problem. "But the others, they won't like it."

I shrugged, showing him that I didn't care. "It doesn't matter to me. I feel bad for telling you to go away. So, are you going to invite me to yours or are we just going to stand here like idiots?"

~

"Here are your clothes," I declared, unzipping my bag that Jenna had lent me and taking out the sweatpants and shirt. "I washed them for you as well." He thanked me and took them from my hands, throwing them on the sofa to deal with later. I looked around and realised that for someone who had a nine year old's mind, he was actually pretty tidy.

"Wanna play a game?"

We sat ourselves on the sofa in front of the TV whilst he set up a game. I didn't recognise it, but to be honest there was no reason why I would. I was halfway between life and death, after all. I'd given up on trying to compare everything, and was now just living for the sake of living. For all I knew, I could be drained from my life support within seconds and I'd end up dead.

A few hours later, it was night and we were still playing the same game. I hadn't realised how addictive it was until Luke stood up to turn it off, saying he was bored. "Oh, your gift. I keep forgetting it." I hurried over to my bag and took out the wooden box, handing it to him. "Here! I got you some new paints. You like painting, don't you?"

His eyes glistened as his fingers touched the wood, opening the clasp at the front to reveal a set of twelve different coloured bottles. "W-wow. Thank you so much!"

"The guy also gave me this, I won't need it so here you go," I added, giving him the paintbrush.

"A paintbrush? This must've been so expensive! Even I can't afford to get one, and I've been here a long time..."

I raised an eyebrow. "So how do you paint?"

"Fingers, mainly. There's nothing else that works to be honest."

What amazed me wasn't how paintbrushes were so expensive, but rather that the artwork on the walls had been done with his own fingers. They were too good! You couldn't even tell. "That's amazing," I murmured, eyes wandering to the grass and butterflies he'd painted on the living room walls.

"There's more upstairs, you wanna see?"

I nodded and followed him up the stairs, catching sight of more little caricatures and depictions on the walls leading to the first floor. Upstairs, there were two rooms – a small bathroom with just a toilet and sink inside, and a bedroom. Inside his bedroom was a large bed, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers and a desk facing the window, which overlooked a small woodland area teeming with birds and little animals.

I then took a moment to look at the walls, and they had been painted black so that the paintings stood out more. There were rainbows, animals, quotes and even humans. "Are these people your family?" I asked, pointing at the figures he'd drawn above the headboard of his bed. He nodded, guiding me through the people.