Gravity

Chapter Four

A/N: Hey guys. Here's another chapter.  Our dear friend Chris seems to be quite in denial, isn't he? :P Anyways, be patient. Buckin mushiness does lie ahead in the story, promise.  

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Chris went out of their flat and hurried down the street. He needed to put his thoughts back in order. He needed advice. Unfortunately, there was no one he could think of confiding with his current problems. No one would understand him, the guys would probably judge him, he supposed as he briskly walked along the curvy streets. His intention had been of finding a telephone to call Guy, but instead of going to the usual booth just round the corner from their flat, he had walked the other way and now he was aimlessly wandering the neighborhood. As he waited at the intersection to cross the street, he spotted the distinct roof of an old Gothic style chapel, just a minute ahead of him. He saw some people entering the building, it must have been mass time, he reckoned. An idea hit him and he made his way there.

Although he had been brought up as a Christian, he was not a particularly religious person. He believed in God and all, but he did not attend services regularly or care much about the states of the Church of England, but he currently saw this chapel as the only place he could get some answers. He had always been told you could not love another man like that, with the years he had gathered substantial evidence to prove that indeed, many people could and were completely happy loving and cherishing people from their same gender, but he did not feel he was like that.  You needed to be a really brave and strong person to follow your heart despite having many people against something so intimate and personal as whom you chose to love. However, this could not be happening to him. It just could not. He needed to talk to a priest. He would know what to say.

He took a deep breath and walked in the ancient church. His steps resonated around the quiet room. Fear rose within him, but he soon managed to fight it. He stopped and looked around, people, particularly elderly ones were slowly filling the front row benches; sitting down in contemplative silence, waiting patiently for the service to start. Some of them threw inquisitive looks towards him. It was after all, quite unusual for a young man of his age to come alone to a mass service on a Saturday.

A grey-haired petit lady approached him. “Excuse me, young man. I don’t mean to pry, but you do seem a bit lost. Are you looking for someone in particular? Is it your first time here?” she asked in a kind sweet voice which instantly reminded Chris of his nana.

“Oh, eh, yes, thank you. It is indeed my first time here,” he said with a quiet laugh. “I came to attend mass, but also, I mean mostly, I need some spiritual advice and I was hoping to talk to the priest or a counselor, if it was possible. Do you think it is possible?”

“Oh, we are delighted to welcome young people like you in our parish,” she said.

“Thank you,” Chris had started to feel a bit more at ease.

“Our priest, Jerry, often stays after the service to talk to the people who need him. I think I can put a word for you, I’ve known him for years, let me tell him you are waiting to see him,” she said spotting the tall man who had just entered the room.

“Oh, thank you very much,” Chris said to her.

“It’s my pleasure,” she answered and headed towards the religious man.

Chris watched as she exchanged a few words with the man, before he looked at him and nodded his head in acknowledgement. He did the same. A few seconds later the lady, returned, a small smile on her face. “He’ll be happy to talk to you when mass finishes,” she announced.

“Oh, thank you again,” he told her.

“Don’t worry. I’m always happy to help. What’s your name?”