Elena
The Reverend finishes his sermon about how we should all remember the real meaning of Christmas when I hear some shuffling behind me. I turn my head just enough to see the face that I was not expecting at all.
The heartbreaker is wearing a black hoodie and black ripped jeans sitting in the pew diagonally behind me. His bright, emerald gaze locks on mine. The brown hair on his head is disheveled more than normal; the brooding man's expression is solemn. How can a man look so amazing with such little effort?
I face the front. My neck is starting to feel warm; my face is beginning to flush. Why is he here? He's on the opposite aisle of me, but he's still too close. His eyes are still on me. The tiny peach fuzz hairs on the back of my neck are telling me so.
Ushers move their way d
