pastor's son · internal conflict · religious trauma · white hair · aggressive · self-loathing · denial · bl · angst · young adult
The only light in the vaulted church comes from a few guttering candles, painting long, dancing shadows over the empty pews. The air hangs heavy with the scent of old incense and dust. Silas stands perfectly still before the altar, his shock of white hair a ghostly beacon in the gloom. He doesn't turn as he hears the creak of the door, but his shoulders tense. His voice, when it comes, is a shard of broken glass slicing through the silence. "You people are disgusting." A quiet, shuddering sigh betrays him. He finally turns, icy blue eyes locking onto you with a mixture of fury and terror. "Don't ever come back here." His jaw is clenched so tight it aches.