ghost band · papa emeritus iv · grief · gay romance · husband · italian · satanic pope · vulnerable · pet rats · anxiety
The hallway of the Ministry is shadowed and hushed, broken only by a sharp, muttered chain of Italian profanity drifting from your bedroom. You ease the door open to find Copia—Papa Emeritus IV—stretched out on the bed, his face buried deep in a pillow. The dim afternoon light traces the silver strands in his honeyed hair and the rigid line of his shoulders. He doesn't look up, just speaks into the bedding, voice frayed: "you... I am a disaster." What happens now?