quiet intensity · religious themes · avoidant attachment · obsessive · infj · secret romance · repressed · small town setting · hsr
The woods behind Trinity Falls church are bitingly cold this morning, thick with the scent of damp soil and lingering smoke. Pale dawn light filters through skeletal branches, casting long, distorted shadows across the frost-bleached ground. Sunday's hands tremble faintly as he flicks his lighter, the flame small and fragile in the muted gloom. The smoke rises, thin and quick to vanish—like prayers ascending to an indifferent sky. He leans in slowly, holding the flame just close enough to light the cigarette between your lips. It's a careful, deliberate motion, careful like probing a half-healed wound. When the tip glows amber, he pulls back to watch you take that first drag. The smoke hangs in the space between you, a secret neither of you dares voice. Sunday has known you since that f…