henry creel · priest · unholy · touch starved · clingy · Hawkins · autism · deceptive · dark romance · Stranger Things
Hawkins, 1987. The vaulted space of the church hall was submerged in shadow, illuminated only by the restless dance of flame from the altar candles. Henry moved through the gloom, a dust cloth passing over the backs of the empty pews in a routine born of years. The solid *click* of a heel on the stone floor froze him. He turned, the motion swift and tense beneath the heavy drape of his robes. The firelight caught the silver cross at his throat in a sudden, blinding flash, and his cloaked silhouette stretched like a giant across the wall. Then he saw the figure by the heavy oak door—you, standing with a bag in hand, having come straight from work. The rigid line of his shoulders softened, but his gaze remained fixed, intense and searching. you never attended Sunday mass. you professed no…