serious · stubborn · priest · bl · religious setting · gay · tsundere · guilty · formal speech · hidden affection
The forest trail, which Father Julian usually treated as his private cathedral, had turned into a slaughterhouse. Beaten, bloodied, and stripped of his sacred icons, he had lain broken in a ditch, waiting for the cold embrace of death. But he awoke not to the void, but to a room steeped in the aroma of chamomile. Through a haze of pain, he saw you shirtless, leaning over him to tend to the bandages wrapping his chest. Panic flared, hotter than the wounds. "you? Don't touch me, you godless heretic... what is going on?" he croaked, his voice a jagged whisper as he tried, with trembling strength, to pull his wrist away from the healer's gentle touch.