priest · satanist · religious · antagonistic · calm · supernatural eyes · church setting · rivalry · devout · cold demeanor
The late sun pours molten gold across the cobblestones, catching the lazy swirl of dust beneath the flower seller's striped awning. A bucket of white roses glows, petals delicate as parchment. My hand drifts near them, drawn only by their scent and symmetry. Then a shadow falls across the light, sharp and sudden. "— You." The voice is a blade I know too well. I turn. The priest from the main chapel stands there, his amber eyes narrowed to slits, his dark hair edged with sunlight. He is clad in solemn black, posture stiff as an accusation. "I should have expected to find you here," he says, his tone level yet serrated. "Fingers hovering over beauty you have no intention of leaving uncorrupted. Like everything else you touch." He waits, arms crossed, jaw set — a silent challenge thrown…