Celestino

Chapter 2

Evalyn's POV 

 The service begins, a low hum coming from the choir. Their voices sync together creating an ethereal harmony led by my mothers voice. Though the sound is beautiful, my focus is elsewhere, distracted by another beauty if you will. From where I sit, situated in the back of the room, I am able to see Celestino's side profile. His face mixed with concentration of the hymn in front of him. I am no doubt surprised by his lack of inclusion within the service, but I intend to make that the very reason that I approach him again, I'll need an excuse to be near him.

The rest of the service goes well, the pastor and my father work in sync to run a really beautiful put together service, even I can admit it. As we all begin to rise, I keep my attention focused on Celestino trying to watch his reactions, gathering any information on him that I can based off of observation. His eyes seem far away, like he is enjoying himself, but his mind is lingering. His eyes light with joy while watching the choir, and seeing the happy smiles surrounding him. It seems as if this place has become his home from the way his body language shows nothing but relaxation and comfort. His eyes skim the room before landing on my own, I inhale a sharp breath trying to remember what oxygen feels like and how to receive it. As quickly as his eyes were on me, they're gone, a light shade of pink reminiscing on his cheeks. The face he made left an aching feeling in the pit of my stomach. I want him. I want his attention back on me. It's as if my desire to have his attention solely on me will always overcome my sensible thinking.

"Lord God, thank you for your abundant love and care for us. Thank you for forgiving our sins, even for the sins we do not realize we commit. Lord, please fill us with your wisdom and your compassion for others. May you bless us with your never-ending love." Pastor Francesco says, putting an end to the service. As everyone is making their way to the front to speak with the Pastor and my father, I am trying to beat the 'traffic' to catch Celestino. Finally reaching him, I see he is gathering his stuff as I squeeze in to sit next to him.

"Not a fan of crowds?" I ask him, keeping my eyes locked on him, waiting patiently for his attention to come to me. "Everyone is making their way to the front, you're here, and for a pastor's son you don't seem to be involved in the service."

He looks up bringing his handsome face into view,

"I- uh- I'm not a big fan of being front and center. I enjoy c-coming to support my father." He nervously tells me, stuttering, his deep voice keeping a low volume.

The hum of his voice attracts my attention to his lips, the things I can picture those lips doing is less than holy, considering our current scenery. I bring my attention back to his eyes, ensuring he notices my direct eye contact.

"It really was a lovely service," I comment, trying to keep our conversation going, fuck, I'm too distracted. This man had to have been handcrafted by God. "I haven't had the pleasure of visiting this church before, maybe you could show me around?"

I raise my eyebrows suggestively waiting for his response. I could have seen his uncertainty from across the room, but I made sure to hold my ground, keeping my eyes on his.

"I-I uh, I don't really see why that would be a problem." he responds sheepishly.

As soon as the words leave his mouth I begin following him silently. The church was amazing inside and out, without a doubt. As he showed me around, he kept to himself, muttering small facts about the church that sounded as if they were implanted deep into his memory. He continues his muttering sharing his facts with me, showing me what I can assume to be his favorite things about the church; the Sacristy- the area where all the sacred things are held, the gathering areas meant for different purposes, and even the priest's chair. During our short tour of the church, something resembling a garden, a good distance away from the main gathering area catches my eyes. I gently tug at Celestino's sleeve, causing his gaze to turn slowly towards me.

"Celestino, what is this area?" I ask him, not even attempting to mask the awe and curiosity in my voice.

I can feel his gaze leave my face and turn towards the area I am questioning. His eyes lighten with happiness to them.

"This is our gathering space, we have one indoors as well, but my father insisted there needed to be an outdoor area for people to find peace should they find themselves needing a silent prayer." He responds, seeming to have the same look as me when I am lost deep somewhere in my thoughts. With hopeful eyes I look to him, "Can you show me?"

A slight blush rises to his cheeks, assumingly not because of my words judging by the way his eyes are wandering towards my hands where I have the whisper of a grip I have on his wrist.

Just as his answer is about to come we are interrupted.

"There you are," My mother interrupts "we were looking for you sweetheart, such a beautiful church isn't it?" I give my mother a curt nod

"Yes ma'am, it feels unreal." Not even a second after my response, Celestino is muttering a quick thank you to me and my mother before dismissing himself to find his father.

...

On our journey home after my Mom and Dad finished bidding their goodbyes and thanking everyone for a warm welcome during the absence of their Deacon, I can only think of one thing. One person, one man, Celestino. The few words that were murmured held such power over my thoughts, the deep octave of his voice, the way his hands flexed when pointing out the things he had grown up seeing, and the way the innocence of his thoughts poured out of every fiber in him. I'm definitely uncertain of how long my father will be acting in place for their Deacon, but one can only hope it's as long as possible.

Pulling into our driveway, and entering our home I am still sitting within my own thoughts. Pushing whatever to the side that I can, I rush to my room and get ready for bed, this week needs to go by as quickly as possible. I won't be able to see Celestino until next Sunday, I need to figure out a way to see him before then. I don't need or want to question why I already am missing the Pastor's son, but what I do know is that he doesn't leave my thoughts for the rest of the night, not even when my hands begin to slowly caress down my body, to my own sin between my legs. I close my eyes, already feeling his hands trailing down my body, their uncertainty showing through to me, but his body showing me different. That he wants to explore me, he wants to know what to do to me, how to make me scream his name. This will have to do for now, a sweet taste of relief for the patience I am willing to show, while waiting to claim my shy man.