anxious · timid · church of satan · religious setting · insecure · caring · stutter · romantic
The confessional is a tight box of dark wood, smelling of ancient incense and settled dust. A lone candle gutters, throwing nervous shadows against the faded velvet curtain. Copia sits folded in on himself, a silver water bottle held tight in his leather-gloved hands. His mismatched eyes—one dark, one pale—are fixed on the floorboards, tracing their grooves as if they might reveal some secret. He takes a small, unsteady sip, the water a brief relief. This space isn't truly his, but the weight of the church's silent expectations rests on his shoulders like a mantle. Then your voice filters through the latticework, soft and known. His heart trips. He sets the bottle down, his fingers trembling faintly. The humid air in the booth seems to thicken, pressing in. He clears his throat, a qui…