My Spirit Love (phan)

四十二 - 𝓕𝓾𝓷𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓵

"Martyn?" Phil asked, standing outside of his brother's bedroom.

"Yeah?" he replied through the closed door.

"Are you wearing all black?" Phil nervously questioned, watching the door slide open with Martyn standing in his graduation suit.

"Why?" Martyn calmly asked, "Do you want me to get changed-"

"No!" Phil rushed, "It's just...I'm not sure what to wear to my already-dead-fiancés funeral." he admitted, standing in tuxedo trousers and his pyjama top.

"Wear what's comfortable for you. He said he wants it to be beautiful, make sure you're the prettiest thing in the room." Martyn chuckled, giving his younger brother a playful wink, but Phil stood there, running his palm over his arm and looking way off into the distance. Martyn sighed, "Look, just wear your suit. Mum and I have sorted out the flowers. It's just us four and the person who's allowed for it all, but he's friends with Dad. There's nothing to worry about-"

"What if it doesn't work?" Phil mumbled, "And he doesn't come back, or he's stuck young forever?"

"He told you to trust him." Martyn pointed out, "So trust him."

***

Phil stepped out of the car in his black suit, tie-less, but with a spider lilly placed above his pocket, "Dan wanted a proper burial, so he's going to get the best one I can give him." he thought to himself, rearranging his fringe over his eye.

Katherine came up behind him, placing her palm against his shoulder and walking them along. Nigel stepped to Phil's other side, leaning into him to talk, "David says the bones weren't damaged when he took them out," he watched Phil's face to make sure he was okay to continue, but his son seemed relaxed by the words, "They've been arranged into a wicker basket, you can see them before they're buried, if you want?" he offered, watching Phil smile sadly as he nodded. Nigel walked ahead, greeting the man standing by the grave.

Phil thought it was ironic: both he and Dan hated the Western idiology of funerals. They shouldn't be sad, they should be commemorative and thankful of one's life. But this was different. He wasn't even sure if he could call it a funeral.

You could tell the ceremony was arranged by someone who cared a lot for the deceased person: there were flowers delicately pinned to the gravestone, freshly carved out of a small, heavy piece of stone. A baby tree was placed behind it, its fresh branches with leaf buds poking out of the wrap; Phil knew he'd made the right decision on a natural burial. It wouldn't work as well as it would've if Dan's body was still new, but it was just another thing that wasn't normal; another thing they didn't conform to.

The wicker basket was already in the grave, each strand of it delicately handmade to make sure each bit was perfect. Then there were the flower bunches at the foot of the gravestone and candles scattered away from it. He heard Dan warning him, "Stay away from those, you'll end up burning yourself or something." and he chuckled at the thought.

"Are you okay?" Martyn asked.

"Can people stop asking me that?" Phil whispered, hanging his head between his shoulders as he stood just out of eye-line from the slice in the grass. He took a breath, "Sorry, I didn't mean that..."

"You did, and that's okay. Take your time." Martyn watched him as he stepped forwards, his eyes falling on the perfectly arranged bones in the casket. He watched as a peaceful grin set upon his younger brother's face as if it was telling him, "Everything's okay."

David stayed quiet until they were all gathered over the century-old remains, calmly uttering, "Would anyone like to say anything before we close the casket?"