10:30 am. the sun was shining, birds were tweeting, the lovely heat of the sunday sun rested down on him like a gentle caress. brown hair strands twinkling in the light like soft fairy lights, eye lashes reflecting the sun. delicately tanned skin glowing with the light. it was such a lovely day, such a calm, pleasant day.
wait...10:30 am?
DAN WAS LATE! SO LATE. LIKE, 30 MINUTES LATE FOR CHURCH. OH GOODNESS HE NEEDED TO RUN.
sitting up with a sharp breath, dan yanks the covers off. the cold air bit at his skin and the sudden change of comfort disgruntled his senses. his brain screamed at him to snuggle back down and the duvet practically dragged him back in. but now was not the time to sleep.
now was the time for running to wardrobes, throwing on your sunday best, tying your tie and running a brush through your thick, fuzzy hair. eyes wide in anxiety and panic, he runs down the stairs frantically. he trips over himself as he ties his shoes on the run to church.
the warm heat of the sun and gentle taps of the rain contradict one another as he runs. his breaths cant seem to come quick enough and his legs cant either. feet stumbling and mind rushing, he bursts through the front doors.
quick second of composure. enter.
"give me oil in my lamp, keep it burning. give me oil in my lamp i pray..." the church is filled with the sound of fifty or so voices. out of tune and out of time, but somehow fitting together like the perfect patchwork.
the backrow is free, there is only one person. dress shoes shuffled, shamed, to the free seat. the man next to dan looks at him, and smirks. this man does not belong in a church. he belongs in a heavy metal band.
donning a black leather jacket, black ripped skinny jeans, dark t-shirt and ebony boots, the man stuck out in the church like a sore thumb. and partnered with his dirty smirk and sinful eyes, this man really didnt belong here.
"i see you're late," the man smirks, delicate fingers running through his fringe.
"how far are we in?" daniel said back, panting and shaking lightly. his knees are a little weak and his heart beat is loud.
"just starting prayers. chill out pretty boy." smooth voice, gentle but roughened with masculine texture. blue eyes, aqualine and piercing but still containing little flicks of yellow and brown and blue that shimmer with iridescence.
dan raised a sweaty hand dismissively. "you can't say dirty things in church, sir."
"sir?" the eyes are distant but present as he thinks. "yeah, i like that. call me sir more often."
rolling his attractive brown eyes, dan started to join in the end of the hymn. gentle, blissful voice adding another patch to the blanket. head turned and blue eyes widen.
"you're a good singer."
dan chooses to ignore him again, mouth still moving and throat still projecting the religious lyrics. he does not like compliments. to accept them is wrong. having been devout christian for a long time, dan knew all the rules and beliefs. he followed them strictly.
silence now, organ had stopped. the patchwork had been undone for now. leather cushions were compressed by people, bibles were clutched yet again. the word of god ready to be listened to. pulling out his sleek, black bible, dan sits.
"hi, i'm phil. whats your name?" phil greets, legs spread and arms over the back seat casually.
"daniel james howell. and you cannot just slouch like that in a church. it is a holy place, not a house."
