Take me to church (Book 1)

1- Lets look and learn.

(NOTICE: this story has errors and some of which I'm honestly too lazy to fix and try not to point out continuity errors cause hoe I knowww, but ye I hope you enjoy the story regardless ♥️)
(also this isn't attacking church or religion AT ALL. I've been to church and helped out many times and honestly have never met more cherishing people. It was an enlightening experience for the year that I went. It's just for this story that we're gonna go with those OTHER churches who can't accept others who aren't like them. It's a small majority, but that doesn't mean I'm attacking every church and religious person. Okay ty ♥️)

The organ of the church simmers into a distant echo, bringing the hall into a silent whisp of ending prayers.
The sun light pours through the stained windows and onto the stone floor where only a few feet in front stands the vicar.

And only a few feet away, sat in the front row, sits the vicars son.
His body stiff and fused into a rank of subjection, ears ready to receive and act on orders from his father.
Others of the church hold a book of songs and prayers, the vicars son doesn't need them, he's done this almost everyday of his life from as young as he can remember.

His fathers eyes stare into his, grey meeting blue.
Granted the vicars eyes used to be blue, but years of dedication and hard work towards the church have brought them to a faded shade.

The son wonders about whether that would happen to him?
Would he turn out like his father, strict and drained from all the excitement in his life?
He hopes not.

The words of the vicar go through one ear and out the other for the lad, having heard the prayers enough times to recite it in his sleep, he can just spend all these hours of church daydreaming and coming up with adventures in his head.
But there's always one part of the vicars words that catches him out the dreaming, the same part, everytime.

"Being gay is a sin and for all those that commit this sin shall burn in the fires of hell."

The vicars son shuffles uneasily in his seat, swallowing the lump in his throat and playing with his fingernails.
Everybody else seems unphased by the vicars harsh words against something that's natural and cannot be helped.

Once the vicar seizes his talking he looks over at his son, proudly smiling before gesturing him up with the flick of his hand.
The son discretely sighs and makes his way up.
"Father," he says.

"Phil, my son," The vicar begins, placing his hand onto Phil's shoulder, squeezing it slightly.
All eyes are on the two.
Palms sweat and legs shake, a thing that the vicars son can never get over. Being in front of a crowd and being the main attraction.

Although throughout the eyes of strangers and fellow neighbours, one set makes Phil's mouth twitch into a smile.

"Phil," The vicars voice draws him from the safe eyes. "Soon, one day you will take over my position as vicar, and I have no doubt that you will make me proud as God will be too." The people of the church clap softly, not forcefully to get their point across, but just so that they're being respectful.

The eyes that holds safety for Phil, rolls and the owner shakes their head.

The organ plays and people stand up and begin to leave.
Phil breathes out and slouches slightly, only to be encouraged back up by a small pat on the back.

Once the church is empty the owner of the safe eyes hobbles over to Phil, arms out stretched and a smile as sweet as chocolate.
"Grandma." Phil smiles and hugs the little old lady. Her pungent perfume clogging his nose.

"You got nervous again," she informs, sorting out his dark, black fringe that covers one quarter of his face. "I won't always be here for you to look at when you're nervous Philly."