Sunday|

"Oh, is he not a Christian?"

"He's really rooted in the faith surprisingly," He seemed somewhat unsure of his reply, the syllables of his words curled in confused irony.

I recognised that. It almost sounded like me, whenever someone asked me about my home.

"You have both your parents with you and you're the only child? Life must be great." They'd say.

"Uhh yeah, I guess I am pretty blessed." I'd reply, the irony in my voice burning through every word. Of course, only I could hear it. In reality, I really was willing myself to believe those words, to wring out whatever few drops of comfort they could bring me. I was trying to convince myself.

I knew then that something must have happened. And something I knew even more certainly, was that I wanted to know exactly what.

"Did..something happen?" My question balanced atop the thin layer of ice on which it glided, smooth and cool yet risking high stakes.

His eyes shifted ever so slightly, as if calculating a tedious sum. "Well. I guess you could say that. But that can wait, till after the sermon. Right now, there's a more pressing question - what is your name?"

"Sure. I'm Kylar." I mentally pictured a large, vast sky, stars shimmering in their stead, composed and carefree. Hopefully that would bring some space into my tone, give him the openness to take a breath, and feel okay.

"Alistair." He replied with a mischievous smile, as though we had just shared an unspeakable secret. Which in some way, we had. Not our names, but a trust in each other; a silent, believing trust.

As I returned my focus to the sermon being preached, a wave of fatigue washed over me. Shouldn't have stayed up so late doing math. In a frantic attempt to stay awake, I looked around, trying to find something that piqued my interest. A few rows before me, a little child scrambled up her father's lap, resting sweetly in his embrace, arms looped around his neck, fingers barely touching each other. I smiled despite myself, imagining the warmth and comfort she must feel in her father's arms. She has no idea how lucky she is.

Out of the corner of my eye, I felt his- Alistair's eyes rest upon me, his curious fixation making me blush somewhat. Turning to meet his gaze, his eyes looked faraway, as though reminiscing about something lost. I realised they were brown, a dark hazel, the colour of earth and Fall. Yet, he was there, present; as though he could experience the now and past concurrently. Something about his expression, the way his sad fondness lingered in the brightness of his eyes and clouded their sparkle, made my heart ache. He hurts too. His life, it must have been shattered to pieces like mine.

I realised he was looking at me, fully in the present now, with the slightest hint of a bemused grin settling onto his perfectly sculpted face. I must look like an idiot right now, staring again. I returned an equally amused smile, heart full with longing and gratitude. A longing to learn his story, his roots and wings, and a gratitude, that I had met another quite like me, yet exactly different.

Maybe he, too, was piecing together the shards of broken glass, to create his artwork of hope. How he did so with such knowing confidence, was a mystery I yearned to unravel.

Time seemed to pass me by in a flurry; maybe that happens when you wander through the depths of possibility in your head. As everyone filed out of the sanctuary in respectful order, Alistair and I stayed seated. I turned to him, a myriad of stories cascading down my shoulders; a thousand possibles of the life he led.

"So, what happened?" I kept my voice open and free, sprinkling a pinch of concern for comfort.

Alistair seemed to hesitate a moment, as if deliberating whether or not to share his life. After all, we had only met twice, and tearing a dagger out of your heart to a mere acquaintance was understandably painful. I would know.

But maybe, there was this glimmer of a connection we had? Was it all in my head? I certainly wished not.

Alistair's gaze returned to its faraway trance; an intrinsic sort of melancholy emanated through him. He took a deep breath, and looked into my eyes.

"Did you hear about the avalanche in Colorado last month? My father died." His words tumbled out clumsily, quick yet searing.

The shock on my face must have been blatant and raw as he flinched noticeably, wearing his pain on his sleeve.

"I..I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." His words reverted to their steady, cool tone, covering the grief that was undoubtedly present just seconds ago.

A few moments of silence passed thoughtfully, and I placed my hand on his back consolingly. I wish I could heal him. My heart throbbed at the thought of him having to go through such loss and suffering; one of the closest persons to him, gone, in a flurry of white. The worst part of all, was that he had to mask his pain. His steady footsteps, his assured gestures, all whilst nursing his tattered heart.

"You know something? You're really strong." I said earnestly, reaching as far as I could into the depths of his thought.

Alistair smiled, responding, "That's funny, no one has ever said that of me. It's even queerer that I was thinking to say the exact same thing to you."

His eyes were warm and gentle, every word he said sincere.

"Me? Why?" I hadn't even shared anything, yet he was saying this.

"I don't know what story you have to tell, but I know it's one of pain and tears. You know, some people speak to your soul without saying a word."

I didn't know what to say. I vaguely got what he meant, about certain people speaking straight to your soul; after all, that was how I felt about him too. But one thing I knew surely, in the depths of my heart, was that I  liked him.

A bit more than solitude-craving Kylar should like to admit.