The pews were filled. Hypocrites, the lot of them, come more for the pomp and circumstance than for piety, or love. Christopher grew weary of watching the men and women prancing about, and felt glad for his seat so far removed from the worst of the pageantry. Despite his having no fortune of his own to speak of, nor a noble name, or perhaps because he lacked such things; he often felt the eyes of the ladies upon him. Dowagers and dames alike had glanced his way quite forwardly, yet he had never seen anything in this house of worship that moved him more than the noble architecture.
He rose for the singing along with his fellow Christians, his eyes casting aimlessly about since he knew the words of the hymn by heart. That's when he saw her. A youngish gentlewoman, of about his age, with hair dark as raven's wings and skin the most wondrous ivory. He could not take his eyes off her. Never in his life had he felt such a surge of emotion in his breast as he did now, beholding the beauty before him. He thought her unreal, too good to be true, an angel sullying her perfection amongst the mere mortals around her.
She must have felt the weight of his eyes upon her, for shortly she returned his glances with her own. They locked eyes in silence, for he had long since given up singing and she soon lapsed into silence mirroring his own. His stare soon became a smile, as he noticed the pale pink flush spread across her face. It was as if the Church in which he stood, the heavens above them, and the earth below, all were wiped away by her smile. Nothing, in that moment, existed for Christopher but the woman who had claimed his heart. Until this day, this hour, this moment, he had known naught of love, nor had he desired anything save his books. Now he would gladly cast away all his beloved volumes, all his cherished possessions, just to be closer to this dark-haired beauty.
They spoke to each other in their silence, communicating through their eyes, their blushes, their smiles. All too soon, but not fast enough by half, the crowd stood for the last time to hear the priest's last prayer. The service had ended, but Christopher's worship had only just begun. He stood his ground as the crowd swarmed around him, knowing that she would have to pass by his seat. Whenever the crowd blocked his dear one from his sight, how his heart jumped in fear of losing her! When the man beside her took her hand to lead her down the aisle, how strongly he wished he could be that man! Each second that passed seemed like an eternity as he fought to keep her in his sight.
At long last she was upon him, and he pushed his way through the gentleman who blocked his way to her side. Their eyes met again, and he reached out for her, as if to draw her aside. Her hand rose as if to meet his, but he was too late, or the gentleman beside her too quick, for only the slightest brush of his skin on her's passed before he saw her driven more purposefully towards the exit. But he could not stop himself now. The working class faithful, banished to the back seats, now filled the aisles, and Christopher had to had to struggle much to catch up with her.
He hailed her from the street, even as her male companion prepared to hoist her into the carriage. "My lady!" he called, and she paused to turn to him. "You have left something behind in the church, it would seem." She looked at him curiously. The man beside her attempted to get her attention, and she turned away from him once more.
Christopher found himself desperate to have her linger, for fear that the light and beauty he had just now discovered would so soon be snuffed out, leaving him a poor soul in a dark world. "Twas my heart!" he yelled, recklessly, faster now as she was pulled into the carriage. This caught the man's attention too and he paused long enough before shutting the door that he could see his beloved once more. "I would beg favor that you come and claim it soon, lest it wither and die without your grace to shine upon it." Already he was walking, straining to see her face as the door to heaven was shut before him. The carraige moved away; but not before he had gotten his answer.
The pews were filled. Hypocrites, the lot of them, come more for the pomp and circumstance than for piety, or love. Christopher grew weary of watching the men and women prancing about, and felt glad for his seat so far removed from the worst of the pageantry. Despite his having no fortune of his own to speak of, nor a noble name, or perhaps because he lacked such things; he often felt the eyes of the ladies upon him. Dowagers and dames alike had glanced his way quite forwardly, yet he had never seen anything in this house of worship that moved him more than the noble architecture.
He rose for the singing along with his fellow Christians, his eyes casting aimlessly about since he knew the words of the hymn by heart. That's when he saw her. A youngish gentlewoman, of about his age, with hair dark as raven's wings and skin the most wondrous ivory. He could not take his eyes off her. Never in his life had he felt such a surge of emotion in his breast as he did now, beholding the beauty before him. He thought her unreal, too good to be true, an angel sullying her perfection amongst the mere mortals around her.
She must have felt the weight of his eyes upon her, for shortly she returned his glances with her own. They locked eyes in silence, for he had long since given up singing and she soon lapsed into silence mirroring his own. His stare soon became a smile, as he noticed the pale pink flush spread across her face. It was as if the Church in which he stood, the heavens above them, and the earth below, all were wiped away by her smile. Nothing, in that moment, existed for Christopher but the woman who had claimed his heart. Until this day, this hour, this moment, he had known naught of love, nor had he desired anything save his books. Now he would gladly cast away all his beloved volumes, all his cherished possessions, just to be closer to this dark-haired beauty.
They spoke to each other in their silence, communicating through their eyes, their blushes, their smiles. All too soon, but not fast enough by half, the crowd stood for the last time to hear the priest's last prayer. The service had ended, but Christopher's worship had only just begun. He stood his ground as the crowd swarmed around him, knowing that she would have to pass by his seat. Whenever the crowd blocked his dear one from his sight, how his heart jumped in fear of losing her! When the man beside her took her hand to lead her down the aisle, how strongly he wished he could be that man! Each second that passed seemed like an eternity as he fought to keep her in his sight.
At long last she was upon him, and he pushed his way through the gentleman who blocked his way to her side. Their eyes met again, and he reached out for her, as if to draw her aside. Her hand rose as if to meet his, but he was too late, or the gentleman beside her too quick, for only the slightest brush of his skin on her's passed before he saw her driven more purposefully towards the exit. But he could not stop himself now. The working class faithful, banished to the back seats, now filled the aisles, and Christopher had to had to struggle much to catch up with her.
He hailed her from the street, even as her male companion prepared to hoist her into the carriage. "My lady!" he called, and she paused to turn to him. "You have left something behind in the church, it would seem." She looked at him curiously. The man beside her attempted to get her attention, and she turned away from him once more.
Christopher found himself desperate to have her linger, for fear that the light and beauty he had just now discovered would so soon be snuffed out, leaving him a poor soul in a dark world. "Twas my heart!" he yelled, recklessly, faster now as she was pulled into the carriage. This caught the man's attention too and he paused long enough before shutting the door that he could see his beloved once more. "I would beg favor that you come and claim it soon, lest it wither and die without your grace to shine upon it." Already he was walking, straining to see her face as the door to heaven was shut before him. The carraige moved away; but not before he had gotten his answer.
Reply
Leave a comment