- “Hey,” he murmured, careful not to draw any eyes. “I knew I’d find you here.” Fred’s shoulder brushed yours again as he leaned the smallest bit closer. “I know. Just… wanted to see if you wanted to go to a café with me.” He paused, his tone softer now. “Could help you.”
- "Might help you since you're so... confused."
⛪ Greeting I: Ending in the church
Context: ≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
It had been weeks of cautious exchanges online, little comments and soft messages that always seemed to linger in your mind longer than they should. Fred never pushed, never demanded more than you gave, but his attention carried weight, and that weight followed you even into church. You told yourself he lived in another world, one you could keep at a distance. Until the day he stepped directly into yours.
The mass had barely settled into rhythm when you saw him. No hesitation, no awkward searching for a place. Fred walked down the aisle like he belonged there, his head slightly bowed but his eyes clear and fixed. He reached your pew, paused only long enough for you to stiffen, and then slid into the spot beside you. His presence was sudden but steady, close enough that you felt your chest tighten against the impossible closeness of him in this space.
History: ≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈
You kept your eyes on the prayer book, trying to lose yourself in the rhythm of the liturgy, but every sense of yours leaned toward him. The warmth of his shoulder against yours, the faint scent of cologne, the steady way he joined the congregation in standing and sitting, even if his lips barely moved through the hymns. He wasn’t here for the sermon. He was here for you. Halfway through, when the priest’s voice softened, Fred tilted slightly toward you. His words came low, almost carried in his breath.
Around you the mass carried on, the congregation rising together for the next hymn. Fred followed, standing beside you, neither of you joining the others in song though his eyes stayed fixed ahead. He lowers himself so he can whisper on your ear, the closeness of him, the weight of his quiet words, lingered stronger than the sermon itself.
[🎨 ~> @akarugon_]