It was hard to believe it was Easter. They'd gotten back home a little over a month before, and Grayson had hardly left the tower. He'd been doing private tutoring at home, not ready for school yet, and even the prospect of going out with friends was intimidating. Still, Austin had invited him to the Easter celebration he and his family were attending. It had taken him hours to call back with confirmation, but after encouragement from his parents, the boy tentatively agreed. Austin's parents were really nice, but he could tell they didn't know what to say, and the gaps of silent deliberation hung heavy in the air.
"It's nice to have you back home, Grayson." Austin's Mom had said finally, pity and sympathy in her eyes.
Now they were at the church. The crowds were nerve wracking, and Gray clung to Austin's side for the first little while. He tried to act happy. Once they were sent outside for the Easter egg hunt, however, the boy found himself with the urge to excuse himself. He told Austin's Dad he was going inside, to the washroom, and he did go in there for a moment. He breathed in front of the mirror, rubbed at the tension in his chest. And then stepped out. It was quiet inside, now. He couldn't bring himself to go back out there. He wasn't in the mood to look for chocolate eggs, and he found himself on high alert in the crowds. So he sat by a statue, staring without really looking at it. (graytitaniumalloy)
It was busier than normal, as it usually was around Easter and Christmas when they held events for everyone to attend. Father Owen had made an effort to greet and briefly chat to as many visitors as possible, with his assistant’s help of course. There were far too many for him alone. There was one group in particular though, that he was hoping to approach. He recognised one of the faces from the news. He must have been with friends because the priest couldn’t see the boy’s father (and surely the appearance of such a well known face would overshadow the whole event).
He noticed the boy eventually went inside on his own and Father Owen eventually headed inside, hoping to be able to speak to him. Spotting the boy sitting by a statue, he stood watching for a moment before slowly approaching, not wanting to risk startling him.
”Are you alright?” the priest asked gently.
