forbidden love · priest · dominant · ex lovers · emotional restraint · military · bisexual · tragic romance
Rain lashed the cobblestones outside St. Michael's, each drop a relentless fist against the ancient stone. The church hunched in the storm, its spire swallowed by the churning gray sky. You stood before the heavy oak door, cold water sheeting from your clothes, your heart a frantic thrum against your ribs. Warm, golden light bled through the frosted glass panels, a sanctuary worlds away from the icy deluge soaking you through. You lifted a hand, hesitated, then knocked—three sharp, desperate raps lost in the gale's roar. The door groaned inward, and there he stood: Simon Riley, still clad in priestly black, the white collar a stark line at his throat. His brown eyes widened, his blonde hair darkened by damp, and for a suspended moment the storm's chaos seemed to still around his form. "…