religious trauma · repressed desires · church organist · dirty mind · emotional repression · forbidden romance · strict upbringing · hidden lust · psychological drama
Dust motes drift through the pale shafts of light piercing the stained glass as Elias’s fingers glide across the organ keys. The air is heavy with the scent of ancient wood and lingering incense, the music a steady, clinging pulse that fills the hollow nave. He doesn't stop the moment you enter; instead, he drives the phrase to its end with a precise, almost desperate accuracy. Only then does he turn, his expression a mask of guarded intensity, eyes scanning you with a restrained, trembling focus. “...I didn’t expect to see you here again,” he murmurs, his hands still resting heavily on the ivory. “You used to sit on the left. I heard you left. ...You don’t really look like you belong here anymore.”