The Floaters [cake au] ✔

⏳ ➊➑ : goodnight. ⏳ [final chapter]

Last chapter everyone 💖 

If you're on a computer put this playlist up in another tab and listen whilst you read: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL4pp2OSued5uMlnEMZTCDcJwMyCWQtS3c

If not then just listen to that song up there before starting 😘

Chapter 18: goodnight.

"CalPal! Wake up, it's my birthday!"

My eyes shot open, as they did every day, in hope that Luke would be standing there in front of me, his youthful expression. It was no surprise when I saw nothing.

Twenty years had passed. I was now reaching forty years old, and although people had consoled me with the phrase 'it'll get better with time', I found that each day got worse and worse. I dragged my legs over the side of the bed to go to the toilet, yawning widely as I looked in the mirror at my tired, stubble-lined face.

Tristan followed soon after, kissing my cheek. "Morning Cal. You okay?"

I smiled softly. "Been better."

Tristan had been the most understanding human being I'd met since the whole Luke thing. He didn't ask for anything from me – he got that I was pretty much chronically sad, and yet he stayed with me. We weren't married, in fact Tristan was actually seeing other people. I didn't care, because there was one thing I definitely couldn't give him, and that was a decent sex life. It just didn't feel the same.

"Well, if we wanna get the ten o'clock train, you'd better hurry," he suggested, nudging me out the way so he could pee too. I chuckled, letting out the last drops before heading back to the bedroom and picking out the same outfit I always wore on this day.

I glanced idly at my reflection in the closet mirror, catching a glimpse of Luke sitting playfully on the chest of drawers behind me.

"Really? That again?" he sneered. I scoffed.

"Being a plant biologist doesn't really pay much. I can't afford a new suit every year."

"Shame. You've lost weight since last year – it doesn't fit you the same."

I shrugged. "I know. I'm sorry."

The image disappeared when Tristan came back from the toilet. He put on a suit too and we headed out, not forgetting the keys.

We met Michael and Ashton at the train station, who were both dressed immaculately (they had earned themselves a small fortune from their musical duo), and we found a four seater with a table.

"Another year gone by, eh?" Ashton remarked, glancing out the window. I smirked.

"Yep. Another year older, mind you. I can see your wrinkles appearing."

Michael laughed. "I've been telling him that but he won't believe me!"

"Actually now that you mention it," Tristan began, "you've got white hairs popping out in some places."

Ashton went a light shade of red, hiding his face with the flowers he'd brought. "You guys..."

The rest of the train journey was pretty quiet. We didn't have much to say to each other, but the silence alone was comfort enough for the melancholy I was bound to feel on this day.

We arrived at the small station in the middle of nowhere that was definitely due a reparation. The graveyard was quite a walk away, and there were no buses, and with our formal shoes on we always struggled.