It wasn't warm inside the church. But still, the last streaks of the day's autumn sun were seeping through the stained-glass windows, casting a warm glow over the rows of wooden pews. It was the kind of place that had a familiar friendliness to it, even though it was empty.
Blair was the only person inside, sitting in the middle pew. And she had absolutely no idea why she was there. She had got off work early, and decided to take a longer route back to her apartment. The little blue and white church stood out boldly as she approached it. It was certainly no cathedral; it was a wee thing, almost cottagey, with light blue doors and window frames. But it called out to her invitingly. So, after a brief moment of hesitation, she turned into the welcoming pathway, and tiptoed inside the double doors and into the entrance. She reached out her hand automatically to dip her fingers into the water font, but drew them back. It felt disrespectful to bless herself when she'd been skipping church for the past five years. She sighed, and opening the big glass door to the church, walked to the very middle pew and sat down.
Here she was. This was the church of her childhood. As she cast her gaze across the rows of seats, it seemed to get smaller and smaller. One of the most vivid memories she had of this place was the vast expanse of pews that seemed to go on for eternity, backwards and forwards. Now the majestic and awe-inspiring temple she had known was simply a stale old chapel, the majority of whose flock was probably little old ladies.
A sea of dust crawled into her nose. She sneezed loudly, and then quickly glanced back to make sure nobody had heard. She'd always been self-conscious of her sneeze. She would make a high-pitched squeak every time it happened, and she hated it. "Well, someone needs to give this place a clean," she sniffed. She paused, then sighed wearily. "Why am I talking to myself?" No sooner had she uttered the question before a whistling noise came from behind, followed by a cold, crawling chill. Someone was here. She didn't want to turn and look, though. Just the fact that she was in here at all made her feel embarrassed. 'But who cares?' she thought. 'It's probably just an old woman who's come to pray for today's "lost generation of ignorant youths."' Then, before she realized, she turned around instinctively to look. And she also realized that, in assuming this arrival was an old woman, she had never been more mistaken.
He was tall. Really tall. A garden of golden curls fell effortlessly around his finely chiseled face. And a pair of striking green eyes gazed out from under them. He was dressed in casual clothes, but the perfection with which he wore them made it seem the opposite. The simplicity of his denim jeans and fitting, checked blue shirt was what made him seem all the more attractive. He began to walk up the main aisle, and Blair could feel her pulse rise ridiculously. He drew closer, and then turned his head her way and smiled the most beautiful smile.
"Hi there," he said quietly, nodding politely in her direction. Blair's throat clenched up in an instant, and all she could do was utter a strange noise in reply. The young man smiled again, then turned back towards the gigantic crucifix at the head of the church, and knelt down, signing a cross on his head, chest and shoulders. Then he chose a pew, nearer to the front than Blair was, and knelt down, pulling a string of red beads out of his pocket. 'What's he doing with that necklace?' Blair thought puzzledly. But no sooner had she thought it, when the answer came to her. Of course. They were Rosary beads. The guy was praying. It was a church, after all.
Blair felt the throb of embarrassment pulsing in her ears. She didn't even know him, yet she was already completely fascinated by him. She forced herself to shift her gaze from his back, and instead tried to focus on the statues that sat in each corner of the church. But there was hardly anything interesting about them, and soon her eyes began drifting towards him again. She snapped back her attention, and looked up at the clock that was ticking on the wall above her. It was clicking away again and again, taunting her for wasting precious minutes of her life. But Blair just sat there in her seat for another minute, staring into space. She decided eventually that if she was going to stay here any longer, she should at least do something. So, shoving off her reluctance, she forced herself down onto the kneeler.
