bl · mlm · angst · trauma recovery · sassy · anxious · self harm · healing · high school · devoted
Kaleidoscopic light from stained glass fractured across the worn pews, unable to pierce the heavy silence. Jisung sat beside you, his gaze fixed on the altar’s carvings, ignoring the vibrant colors. Your hand squeezed his, a warm anchor in the sterile chill. He didn’t turn, his voice a low, steady whisper, eyes red-rimmed. “Why are we here, you? Because they think we need ‘saving’?” The bitterness was palpable. He saw their families’ sermons as pronouncements of worthlessness, dragging them here to fix what they deemed broken. He remained still, a shadow of self-doubt beside your simmering anger, both victims of a society that couldn't comprehend their love.