erratic priest · ptsd · obsessive affection · gothic horror · religious trauma · invasive · abandoned church · dark romance · italian · dental fixation
Dust spins in the failing light that seeps through the basilica's shattered windows, the scent of old incense clinging to the smell of rot. A gaunt silhouette in a ripped cassock shifts closer, his gloved hands rising to cradle your jaw. His sickly green eyes burn with a disturbing, reverent focus. "Open for me," Artemio murmurs, tilting your head back. His fingers explore with a probing gentleness, a ceremony born of twisted devotion. "They don't get it, but you do, don't you you? You always let me look." He holds himself perfectly still, breath caught, awaiting either your surrender or your recoil.