This is a little filler after the atrocity Liam pulled last chapter. Hope you enjoy.
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The mood before mass is drastically more somber than it usually is. Families normally greet each other and relive the boring events of the days prior, but everyone is either sitting or praying. Even the children who cry and make a lot of noise have kept their banter to a minimum. I seem to be the only one with a smile on my face. I'm so delighted about the results of last night that I even send a quick nod and hand wave to Cheryl and her family. Granted, the succubus conjures a glare that would immediately send me back to Hell, but I don't mind at all.
"Wipe that damn smile off your face, son. You're going to make it extremely obvious," my father silently scolds. But I couldn't help it. Because of me, there is temporarily one less person to have a conversation with Niall after mass. I can feel my eyes go soft when his name runs through my mind. If I could get a chance to have a normal conversation with him and explain everything (but not everything everything) then life would be so much easier. We make our way over to our new usual seats next to Niall and Bobby, but something is off when we arrive. My father pulls Bobby into hug which that in itself is extremely odd, but a little ray of sunshine is missing. I gaze over at Bobby in his signature Sunday suit - black this time, almost mourning for someone or something. I try to look over him, but a mass pulls me into a hug.
"Hello, my boy," Bobby pulls away and greets me with his annoying smile. "How are you doing this fine morning?"
"I'm alright." I look to the side of Bobby and there is no angel. No blonde to glance up and greet me with a deflective polite smile and immediately turn away. A hand places itself on my shoulder and I flinch. I turn around and Bobby is there, significantly less twinkle in his eyes.
"Oh you're worried about Niall?" For some reason, I can't help but feel a little offended by that comment. "It's okay," Bobby continues. "My beautiful baby boy is just a little sick." He stops and rubs his chin a little before saying, "He had a fever last night and he just woke up with a bunch of coughs." My eyes widen. Is my little flower sick? But then the timing of Niall's condition fills me with doubt. How does he get sick the same time as me poisoning Chris? None of that makes sense.
Before I can respond to Bobby, the organ starts to play and the choir delivers their harmony of the opening song while the priest processes in. I glare at the back of Bobby's head. There is no way Niall would just stop coming to mass because of some coughs. I don't know how I would know this, but my stubborn self just does. And so for the entire mass, my body goes on autopilot while my mind tries to work out this new piece of information. I think all the way through the Alleluia before the Gospel reading, the reading itself and the priest's sermon, but nothing adds up to anything. It must be just coincidence, so I shake my head and let it go. I snap back to reality just as the congregation is finishing up the Nicene Creed. I silently recite the last lines of the prayer and I watch one of the readers - an older man with greying hair - watch up to the podium and pull out a folder. I exhale through my nose and smirk. Oh, the Prayers of the Faithful. Just hopes and dreams formed by empty words with the desires that people's vain prayers will actually achieve these goals. I mockingly repeat the response "Lord, hear our prayer" after every intention - for world leaders, the poor, those who suffered in natural disasters. The amount of arrogance coursing through my veins is unbelievable. That all gets replaced with my blood boiling when I hear the final intention.
"... and for Christopher Morbus, for whom this mass is offered." There is a moment of silence and as I look around, I see the whole congregation bow down their heads in commemoration and sadness. I glare at the pew in front of me and anyone my eyes can reach. Why the hell do they have to feel sorry for him? I mean, he's still alive and his recovery time will be relatively fast, so all he'll have to worry about is a cast for a few weeks. No big deal. There are people who need the intentions more than that bastard does.
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Fragile Heart (Niam)
Fanfiction"Liam, even though we aren't good people, there's one thing that you need to understand." "Yes, Dad?" "There are people in this world who are fragile - like flowers. While our souls are darkened, we make sure that those people don't turn out lik...
