He sat at the back of the church. He was too early but he didn’t care, they had let him pass without a word. A bright forget-me-not rested in the lapel of his coat, his feet resting on the seat in front of him. He remembered when she had convinced him to come to church with her the first time, her blue eyes anxious as he took in the rustic surroundings. It wasn’t one of those “modern” churches with flashing lights, a coffee bar and blaring, “popular” christian music. Though he could tell she had wished it had, just for his sake. It was a church with ageless stain glass windows, an organ resting behind the large, elegant stand where her minister stood. He could tell she loved her church; she loved the light that danced from the windows to land on the heads of the sparse people below. She loved the smell of wood, her eyes shining as she stared down at the people from her place on the balcony. She had loved it all. And because she loved it, he was there.
He believed in God. But not to the extent she did. She would elbow him whenever he blasphemed, or slap him when he insulted anything involving God. Her God meant more to her than anything else in the universe. He found it cute. Dating a Sunday school teacher hadn’t been the plan, but somehow she had caught him with her charming smile, her warm blue eyes. And even more surprising, was she had taken him on. 726Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNGr8oqJxzZ
Her family had been three levels down from “thrilled.” Her mother had shaken her head, her sisters had snickered. Her brothers had crossed their arms. She was dating a non-Christian. She was running down a path they didn’t think she could come back from. If they knew his past like she did - he knew they would never leave them alone together. He held a past of sleeping with whoever came too close, of drinking until his insides screamed, of smoking so his shirts were steamed in smoke. He held a history of drugs that never seemed too long a list… but should have been shorter.
And still she held him closer, and still she kissed him. Still she coaxed him when he felt the world slip away. She urged him to quit smoking. He had left drugs far behind. She laughed at his wit, and smiled at his roguish grin. She dismissed the stares; she ignored the quiet murmur of gossip that dipped and dived in her community. She sang to God, she loved God. She loved him too.
She stood by a champion she knew had little chance of winning. And yet there she stood, there she reached out and promised him her loyalty. 726Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfNhbXhqpFd
She believed in him.
That belief had taken him to the church. That loyalty had him sitting there. He glanced up at the projector and dreaded the moment it flickered to life. He sat there, curled in on himself and felt his insides heaving. She had loved everyone she saw, empathised with everyone she touched. She had told him not to judge her God by human standards, but to see him through the eyes of an angel. She was that angel, she was the creature that convinced him that maybe she was right. God was more than the human standard of love – he was more than a 2D character with a cheesy grin. More than a catch phrase. He was a being with a personality, with interests, with a story to tell. He was her world.
A single tear slid down his cheek, and he moved his feet to grip the bible resting innocently at his feet. The man in the pew had held sway over her heart, he had shown her wonders. And every wonder she had gasped in delight. She had singled him out in a society that had forgotten him. She had held onto him, but he knew, almost ironically, not by her strength. He gripped the book tighter till his skin was bone white. That strength came from whatever she had found in this. He didn’t know if it was true. But he realised, until he had read it through, he didn’t know if it was false either.
He dropped the book back into its slot when the projector flashed its computer logo, blue then yellow. He held his breath as the guy behind the sound desk clicked on a file. He heard people shuffle in, tricking in to take their seats. In the background of the soft noise her face smiled down on them, the same way it had when she looked down on them from the balcony.
He remembered her laughing face, he remembered the way her eyes caught fire when he told her he loved her. He saw her lying on the hospital bed with impossibly bright eyes, smiling weakly up at him.
‘You don’t need my help anymore.’ She had whispered, ‘I’m going home.’
And she had.
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Note: I hadn't meant for it to be religious... but that's just how it rolled. Religion is such a powerful aspect of a person that I feel like it shouldn't be an embarrassing part of you, but something to be worked on, understood and cherished. 726Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2ys2iASLAd
Song: Blue and Yellow by The Used.
ns 15.158.61.39da2
