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Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you are currently standing in the kitchenette of your church holding a cup of punch.
Around you in the room, picking chips from assorted bowls and small rolls with turkey (or something?) inside of them. Your church does this sometimes, little lunch things in order to celebrate something. In this case, the celebration is the birthday of your father, a deacon in the church. You tend to enjoy this celebrations because, free food is a yes in your book.
It’s been something like two months since your current preacher, Gamzee Makara, came to the church. You still remember that vividly, due to your idiotic feelings which needed to calm down. You remembered, because that was the day you met Gamzee (uh, Mr. Makara) and pretty much loved him from then.
Well, you didn’t at first. You just thought his sharp, sloped features were gorgeous. It didn’t matter if he sometimes didn’t brush his hair. Gamzee had been so wonderfully kind to you during this couple months. You discovered a few things about him, like his enjoyment of rap music although he told you not to tell anyone, that the church might kick him out for enjoying the styles of a certain Wiz Khalifa.
You also found out a couple other things, like the fact that he had an older brother. So did you, however you found Rufioh wasn’t really a fan of the new preacher. He said something about how he didn’t like ‘his looks’, even though you didn’t know what that was supposed to mean.
You also discovered Mr. Makara enjoyed writing, as he showed by the extensive notes he took whenever he did sermons. He also liked writing poetry and raps, and you shyly told him that you too wrote raps. He had laughed, a light, elated laugh and said you both should ‘slam and jam’ sometime.
In short, you liked Gamzee, and you liked him a lot. He was kind and sweet and you two liked the same kind of music. You enjoyed the same hobbies. When he spoke to you, he didn’t sound like he was talking down to you at all. He didn’t say stuff like “so what are you” in regards to your ethnicity, and when you told him you were Brazilian and could indeed speak spanish, he looked starry-eyed.
You were brought from your thoughts of Gamzee by Aradia appearing by your side, smiling in the broad way she did. Aradia was about seventeen, you thought, and was one of your only friends. She liked to play RPG games and roleplay with you, which was fun. But sometimes she was a little creepy.
Aradia smiled and touched your arm to get your attention. “Tavros, I think the preacher wants you outside.” she says. You look up to see Gamzee outside the window, waving a little and smiling. You barely retain a grin in return.
“Uh, thanks Aradia.” you say, and shoulder through the congregation to walk outside. You close the screen door behind you and Gamzee walks over to meet you halfway, smiling still and tucking his hands in his pockets.
“What’s up Tav, I figured we could get our chat on. We don’t really ever have no time to talk fully, amiright?” he says, and you smile.
“You’re right, I know a place we can sit. Won’t um, people miss you though?” you asked. The preacher was a loved one of the women. They just liked the way he spoke.
Gamzee glanced over into the church through the window, and crinkled his nose (which you noticed curved down a little at the end) and shrugged loosely. “Nah, they can survive for a little while we take a spell and chit chat.” he said, and you smiled and huffed air from your nose in a small laugh. Gamzee seemed to like this, as his grin got wider.
You led Gamzee to the spot where you both could talk most likely undisturbed, which was the shed at the far side of the backyard. You sat on the stairs in front of the door, and Gamzee followed. You noticed how much higher his knees were than yours.
Gamzee sighed contently and stayed quiet for a moment, then turned and looked at you.
“You know, I’m awful glad I up and stayed here. This is a nice lil’ place ya’ll got.” he said, and you blushed a little.
“Ah, well. It’s always been um, very small and close. So we all just kinda mold into a family, kinda?” you say, and he smiles.
“I can tell. Ya’ll are all real nice. ‘Specially you, Tav. Lemme hear your story.” he asks, and you’re confused for a moment.
“You know, your story. What you think ‘bout all of this, your beliefs an’ all that. Ain’t no need to lie around me. I’m real open.” he says once you ask.
You hesitant for a moment, thinking about whether or not you could trust Gamzee. You search his face for a moment, and find nothing but a fond, lazy smile and eyes. You blush, and sigh a little.
“If you, uh, wanna know the truth… I guess they’re pretty, limited, my beliefs that is. I used to believe really, uh, heavily and all but I guess I grew up a lot and started figuring things out on my own? I’m not- I think I still believe in God and all, but like, I just don’t follow? I’m not an atheist. I guess I just don’t know… If there’s a God and all.” you say, slowly rambling with your own thoughts. You had never really told anyone this, it never came up, and you certainly had never told your dad or Rufioh.
Gamzee seemed to roll this around on his tongue, thinking for a second, then leaned back on his elbows.
“You’re what the theology class up and calls ‘agnostic’, Tavy.” he says, and makes you blush with the nickname.
“I understand though. Back in my wayward teenage years, I wasn’t really all cosy with God. Smoked a lot a’ dope.” he said, and then laughed. You tried not to be too surprised, Gamzee just looked like he would smoke pot or something.
“With smokin’, came the thinkin’, and I up and thought God didn’t even exist for a while. But my old man kinda forced me back into the path, and here this mo- guy is. But that’s just the way it goes. Every preacher got their time of doubt.” he laughs a little, and you feel like you and Gamzee got a lot closer just now. He didn’t seem to change his opinion of you at all, and you felt relieved.
After a moment of silence, Gamzee looks over at you. He seems to think for a second, then sighs. “Well, don’t be tellin’ nobody I smoked sh-stuff in my younger years.” he said, and you smile.
“You’re only twenty-four, Gamzee. Still young.” you say, and this causes him to laugh again. You love how much he seems to laugh and smile.
“My back says otherwise. Seriously though,” he says, and you look up because it isn’t real often Gamzee seems serious.
“I really do love it here. Love a lot of things. This church really is somethin’ of miracles.” he says, and you smile.
“I, um, really like that you’re here.” you say and blush and curse your stupid tongue for spitting stuff like that out so carelessly. You didn’t feel like having your dreams crushed today if Gamzee managed to figure anything out.
But he doesn’t seem anything but starstruck and happy, and that makes your heart swell. The look Gamzee gives you could send anyone soaring.
He parts his lips, then speaks softly.
“I’m real glad. I like to think we’re real good friends, Tav. I ain’t had many friends, so… If I’m wrong, go ahead and tell me.” he says sheepishly, and you feel your heart break a little.
“Of course we’re friends, Gamzee! You seem like a great guy. You’re um, really nice… And funny, and you like cool stuff.” you say, trying to get him to think so.
His face falls, but not in a bad way. His eyebrows furrowed softly upwards, and he shifts to look at you. He looks almost sad, and you think you did something wrong, but he speaks before you can apologize.
“I ain’t never heard nobody say that about me. I can’t… I just gotta say, I-” he stops, and fiddles with his bony hands for a moment. You let him gather his thoughts, because the emotion bleeding onto his face is scaring the shit out of you.
Gamzee finally speaks, and when he does he tries really hard to hide the way his voice cracks and it doesn’t work and you think you’re gonna explode.
“I really fell in love with this place.” he says, and you crumble just a little.
Gamzee seemed lonely. The way he spoke just made you think of the kid in high school that sat alone at lunch, or never walked to class with anyone. He just seemed, lonely.
“... We should go back inside?” you try, trying to get him back into the swing of his usually cheery mood. He looks over at you with painfully shiny (wet) eyes and forces a smile onto his face. You can tell it’s fake, because his eyes don’t crinkle when his lips move.
“Sure thing, Tav. Thanks for talkin’ to me. We need to do this more.” he mentions and stands with a sigh, and stretches a little. You stand beside him, and with a shared smile walk back to the church.
Your name is Tavros Nitram, and all you wanna do is hold your preacher’s hand.