People streamed out the doors and down the stairs, now that service was over. Matthew stayed in his seat at the back, watching the pews empty, before he finally got up and slunk out one of the side doors, hands in pockets.

Light peeked out from under the door of a second-floor activity room. He let himself in and locked the door behind him, eyeing the other occupant of the room. The same pale blond hair threaded with grey, the clear, piercing blue-grey eyes, and the same small, serene smile. The vampire could almost believe the man didn't age, and sometimes desperately wished it; wished he hadn't noticed the few more strands of grey. "Pastor Mortimer."

"Matthew." He always sounded quietly pleased to see him; there was a particular quality in that deep voice, something about how the name rolled off his tongue. "I'm glad you joined us today." And that was the real kicker, that the pastor was always entirely sincere, never mind that Matthew hadn't attended service for the past few months.

The vampire shrugged. "No one else today?" he asked, with another shrug of a shoulder indicating the room in general.

"I thought you might appreciate a moment of quiet before speaking with Miss Alina," Pastor Mortimer replied, sitting down. He had already taken off his jacket, and was now neatly folding up one sleeve.

Matthew sat down beside him, opening the first aid kit on the table and drawing out supplies. "It's terrifying, how well you know me."

"Only because you allow it," the other man said warmly, offering his wrist.

Cloud-grey eyes glanced away as he grasped his arm. 

Pastor Mortimer, for his part, was unruffled as usual. "Heavenly Father. All that we have, all of it is a gift. It comes from you, O God, and we thank you for it."

"Amen," Matthew murmured together with him, and sank his teeth in.
[hr]The entrance hall doubled as a dining hall, or simply a place to sit, with long tables and benches filling most of the space. It was not an enclosed space, and was currently filled with people having lunch, making conversation, and all the other things that acquaintances and friends did. They no doubt appreciated the weather: bright, but not too hot and sunny, with a cool breeze blowing.

Matthew glanced out at what was the next best thing to direct sunlight, and suppressed a wince, returning his gaze to the crowd. Today he wore a long-sleeved blue v-neck shirt and white pants; overdressed for the weather, not quite formal enough for Sunday best. Or the other way around, depending on how one looked at it. He was leaning against a pillar in the corner, occasionally waving back as someone recognised him. Pastor Mortimer had come downstairs too, bandaged wrist hidden beneath his jacket sleeve, and was doing the usual rounds, asking after people, taking an interest in them.

It was all warm and friendly, and he never could shake the feeling that he did not belong.