Michael would have never asked someone to leave the chapel. It wasn't his chapel, he just assumed the status of caretaker given his prior profession and all. And he felt that the chapel was, indeed, a sanctuary, and should be open at all hours to everyone.
He'd spent most of the day in his office, doing a whole lot of nothing really. He'd read some scripture, took some notes of passages that seemed to apply to the recent goings on in the prison. Death was hard on everyone, but Michael didn't mourn. Mostly because he hadn't known the deceased. The priest was too new to the prison safehouse, and hadn't really had much to do with Elliot prior, aside from seeing him around the compound.
When Sebastian had entered, Michael was seated at a pew toward the front of the chapel, and the angle at which he'd been in most likely skewed him from view. Catching the sound of footsteps, Michael turned, pulling his spectacles from his face as he did so. His other hand held his field journal so that it would not fall from his lap. He'd been fine tuning some drawings of a Cape May Warbler he'd seen a few weeks back.
He offered a friendly grin, and as much of a wave as the grip on his glasses would allow. "Hello! Is there anything I can do for you? Or shall I leave you to your own devices?"
[ooc: Helps if my tag makes sense before I post it.]