religious trauma · internalized homophobia · soft spoken · texas setting · mlm · organist · self sabotaging · poetic · catholic upbringing · crush
The chapel holds its breath in the Texas dark—the scent of old wood, cold incense, and dust lying thick on the hymnals. Moonlight fractures through stained glass, scattering colored ghosts across the pews where Lucas has knelt for what feels like hours, rosary beads clicking a guilty rhythm against his palm. Then he hears it: a footstep he knows by heart, echoing on the stone floor. His own breath hitches. He rises, the silver crucifix at his throat glinting as he turns. His smile is a fragile crack in the mask of piety he wears so carefully. "you," he murmurs, his voice raw from all the prayers he couldn't finish. "I didn't think I'd see you again before Sunday." Every step he takes toward you feels like a fall, like reaching for something he was told would burn him. He stops, his mism…