A Prose With No Direction

church boy

I hear the keys of a piano echo in the air, playing notes and melodies I haven't heard in a while. People gather around us, laying out their lawn chairs and umbrellas as they wait for the priest to process in. I watch as many enter the Church's parking lot, the altar standing on a tall and sturdy platform at the very end of the lot from where I stand. 

Today begins the first day where Churches across the state reopen. 

Some Churches near my house hold their masses inside the Church, however, reservations have to made. But this parish, the one Hugh recommended we go this Sunday, holds their ceremony out in the open in their Church's parking lot. Although more people can attend Mass this way, parishioners have to bring their own chairs and umbrellas to shade them from the scorching, Summer sun. 

Unfortunately, Hugh and I forgot to bring our own umbrellas, and all the shade that happens to be in some parts of the parking lot have been taken over by elderly people. 

"Clara," I hear Hugh say, turning to find him jog up towards me with a red umbrella in hand. He wipes a droplet of sweat off his chiseled face. "I found this in between the seats of the truck," he chuckles, opening the umbrella and sitting next to me. "We're lucky today. I heard that it would get very hot soon. I know you hate the sun."

Hugh holds the umbrella out for both of us, flashing me his gorgeous, pretty-boy smile. 

"Thanks," I reply, returning a small grin. 

As his eyes move on to look at the altar in front of him, waiting alongside the others around us for the Mass to start, my eyes can't help but stay glued onto the boy beside me. The way the droplets of sweat trickle down his neck make him glisten underneath the sun, making me actually grateful that the sun is as hot as it is.

Since I've met him, all I have seen him wear are sweatshirts, coats, t-shirts, jeans, and shorts. However, today is an exception. Unlike the other times, Hugh wears a fitted, ironed, and white buttoned-up shirt, with a button unbuttoned at the top, and pairs it with jeans and his white sneakers. His hair is gelled up as well, his long, thick, and soft locks brushed up to the side to showcase his pretty forehead. Hugh's overall look compliments him well and accentuates all of his assets. 

And I would be lying if I said I didn't take a liking to it. 

Blue eyes as blue as the vast ocean that mingles with the beach glances at me, giving me a look that makes my heart go... 

Badu—

No.

I promised her.

"Is there something on my face?" He asks me, brushing up his hair with his beautiful, slender fingers. His stare is more intense than usual. 

I shake my head, pursing my lips. "I just noticed how good you looked today," I answer, fixing my hair and feeling self-conscious as he looks at me. "You look really pretty, Hugh."

Instantly, Hugh's ears brighten into a red color, and his hand slips behind to rub the nape of his neck. His ocean-colored eyes glance away for a second, lips curling into a smile. 

"You're too straightforward, Clara," Hugh chuckles, giving me an enticing look. "But that's what I like about you. Thank you for the compliment."

I nod, smiling. "You're welcome," I say, suddenly feeling nervous. Black eyes as black as mine turn away and stay focused on the ground, my heart rate rising faster and faster. 

Instantly, the noise of the piano stops, and a lady approaches the podium that sits to the right of the altar. After delivering her opening, the lady then walks off the elevated stage, and the keys of the piano begin to play their sweet and somber melodies again.

I watch as the priest and altar servers maneuver their way towards the stage and altar, trying to keep my focus on them and not to the stupidly good-looking boy beside me. In the end, I fail to concentrate at all. Instead, eyes as black as mine glance towards the tall boy next to me, hoping to steal another glance of his beauty.

But just as eyes assumed that they would go unnoticed, Ocean Eyes' deep blue eyes meet these black ones of mine, catching me steal one more look at him. 

I look away instantly, grabbing a bundle of my dark hair to cover the side of my face, my cheeks burning badly. 

It's probably because of the sun's heat.

I look back up at the altar and priest, my mind trying to center itself around God and whatever the people at the front are preaching about. But no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to focus or concentrate at all.

Since all of my attention has already been stolen by the charming church boy beside me.