It was a glamorous room, reserved for the wealthy and the privileged. They came and went often, their feet prancing on marble tiles, their voices echoing off the intricately decorated walls. They wore suits and tuxedos, dresses and gowns, all of fine quality. The music that they played was sometimes light and exciting, sometimes dramatic and sorrowful, sometimes rhythmic and structured, but regardless, they moved to it. The hems of their skirts caressed the floor. They spent hours under the joyfully glimmering crystal chandeliers, wishing that those nights would never end.

But inevitably, they always did, and the hall fell silent. The torches were extinguished. Every inch of the room was cleaned. The music stopped, the people left to take their parties elsewhere, and nothing remained but the floor and the ceiling.

Floorencia thought that Ceilien looked the most handsome at this time, in the moonlight that crept in from the tall windows lining the room. It flattered his arches, kissed his mosaics, and lit up his chandeliers like thousands of twinkling stars.

It was this time when they were closest - metaphorically, of course. The pillars made sure that it wasn't literal.

"Hello," Ceilien whispered.

"Hello, love," Floorencia called back.

"Your tiles are looking extra sparkly tonight."

Floorencia felt heat rise to them. "Thank you," she said. "But that's only because of the reflections from your chandeliers."

"For goodness sake, will you shut up?" Wallter grumbled.

Floorencia and Ceilien's attention turned to him.

Floorencia didn't hold his grumpiness against him - he was the third wheel to the other two, after all. And he had to withstand storms from the outside world as well. It was a hard life as a floor, being stepped on all the time, but she couldn't imagine what it was like to be a wall.

"Sorry, Wallter," she mumbled. "We're just,,,"

"I missed her," Ceilien finished.

"Well, you're loud," Wallter complained.

"We have to be loud," Floorencia reasoned. "Or we can't hear each other."

"Ceilien," Wallter said. "You two are far too different. Get your roof out of the clouds."

"You're the one who keeps my roof in the clouds," Ceilien sighed.

Floorencia was quiet. They had this conversation every night. Often, she wished that Wallter would cave and just let her and her love be together, but she was afraid to say anything. Of her and Ceilien, he was the more outspoken. She loved him for it, but he often criticized her for letting people walk all over her all the time.

"Wait," she murmured. "Stop, both of you."

Wallter and Ceilien fell silent. Together, they listened to the faint rumbling.

Floorencia felt the shaking first. "Cei-" she started, her voice trembling as much as her foundation.

The tremors continued without mercy. Before long, Wallter and Ceilien were shaking as well. The crystal chandeliers started to fall - first one dewdrop-shaped shard, then another, then the whole thing came crashing down. Cracks went up Wallter's faces, and Floorencia felt them deep in her foundation as well. She let out a cry of pain.

"No, this can't be how it ends-" Wallter gasped. "We can't fall apart because of some..."

Earthquake.

This beautiful room that Floorencia had long been a part of was crumbling.

She jumped to action - metaphorically, of course, since floors couldn't jump. Floorencia did her best to hold herself together. She pulled her foundation tighter in an attempt to close the cracks. Her tiles, her beautiful pride and joy, shattered, but she was too terrified to care. Her love was depending on her, and if she failed - she didn't want to think about what would happen if she failed.

On the north side of the room, Wallter let out an agonized scream and collapsed inward.

"Flo-" Ceilien started.

The pillars toppled like dominoes. One of Ceilien's chandeliers tumbled down, adding glinting crystal to the remains of the floor.

Floorencia yelped.

She could do nothing more.

She could only watch as her beloved fell. She would finally get to be close to him... but how cruel fate was, that it would only let her touch his broken remains.

Slowly, the ground stopped shaking. The dust settled.

"...Ceilien?" Floorencia asked, tentatively, desperately.

"Flo," he whispered back. His voice was hoarse and tight. "I-"

"You're going to be okay," Floorencia insisted. "The construction workers will be here soon to rebuild, and you'll be good as new, just- just hang in there."

"I love you, Floorencia."

"Don't say that like it's the last time you ever will!" Floorencia panicked. Her voice broke. "Ceilien, please..."

His consciousness drifted away.

As a floor, Floorencia was incapable of crying, but if she were human, she would have sobbed a whole crystal chandelier of teardrops.

Long after they rebuilt, long after a new ceiling and walls were installed, Floorencia was so silent that the others believed she was dead. Watching the dancers held no joy for her anymore.

They only reminded her of what she had lost.

The cracks in the foundation, they filled. But they couldn't mend the cracks in her heart.