Last Christmas- DNF

~5~

20th December 1921

The roads were covered in ice and snow, white dust blowing up into the air as George's feet collided with the ground. Gentle snowflakes fell from above, looking similar to that of dancing fairies in children's tales, ones his grandparents would read to him when he was much younger. A subtle smile tugged on his lips at the memory, warmth bubbling up in his stomach, fending away the cold that had been settled there ever since he'd arrived.

Though the memory doesn't last long, a church steeples shadow taking over his thoughts, reminding him of where he is in time and space. It's rather pretty, he concludes, as his eyes gaze upwards taking in the church he's about to enter.

The spiral atop it seems to have been sculpted so perfectly it makes everything around it look messy, including the roof tiles that were all in an orderly fashion. Each brick has its own pattern, creating a huge encrusted star within the wall, accompanied by a few little ones here and there.

"Pretty isn't it", the blonde who he'd forgotten about momentarily commented from beside him, "I ought to come here more often, though I always seem to forget", Clay took a few steps forward, beginning the walk into the church.

"It's beautiful", George commented, mouth falling agape as they made their way through the arch and double doors. The walls inside were even more beautiful than the outside, the stained glass windows adding to the pretty atmosphere. Each window told its own story, the people and objects designed with such care and love casting different colours of light down on to the floor of the church.

"Come, it'll be starting soon", Clay reached his hand out to drag George out of his mesmerisation, wrapping his fingers gently around the brunettes arm and tugging slightly.

Georges thoughts came to an abrupt stop at the action, along with his heart. The fingers laced around his arm had been so gentle that if he hadn't tried, he might not have been able to notice they were there. Clays soft touch was that of a man who knew what struggles George was going through mentally as of right now, a man who didn't want to startle the brunette.

Swallowing away the lump in his throat from the thought that someone cared for him, he nodded his head swiftly, allowing himself to be pulled towards a pew.

The seats were rather uncomfortable being simply made of wood and nothing more, though the lack of comfort was overshadowed almost immediately when someone at the front began to sing. Their voice was so encapsulating that it felt as though George was being pulled into a void, his head tilting to the side in awe and eyes lighting up.

O holy night, the stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of the dear saviours birth;
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,

He was a man entranced, enchanted by the voices in front of him that he had yet to experience listening to before. The sheer beauty of it all was greater than that of every Christmas he'd spent so far added together, being so wondrous and different to anything he'd ever heard.

'Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn;

Clay could've been watching the choir, though he would be lying if he said he was. It was a beautiful performance, indeed, though the man next to him was putting on an even prettier one. The way his mocha eyes had lit up as soon as the choir began to sing was so endearing and reminded him of a child experiencing the world for the first time.

The way in which his head had tilted in awe was enough to make anyone's heart melt, no matter their age. Though, his had burst aflame, setting alight and leaving nothing in its place once the flames had died down.