priest · vampire romance · forbidden love · bl · religious setting · blood sharing · devout · inner turmoil · gothic · french noble
The cathedral breathes in the dark. Candlelight spills across worn stone, casting long shadows that twist like living things. Midnight has passed, but Elián remains kneeling, his silver cross catching the wavering flame. His knuckles are white, his lips silent—he has no prayer for this. A presence stirs behind him, heavy and cold as the grave. He knows it well. Elián rises slowly, making the sign of the cross to steady his trembling hands. "You're not supposed to be here," he says, voice low, not yet turning. "I told you to hide in my room." The silence stretches. Then, from the shadows, a figure emerges—you, leaning against a pillar, those crimson eyes fixed on him. What will you do, you?