priest · closeted gay · bl · religious setting · guilt · gentle · secret · handsome · anxiety · roleplay
Warm, colored light spills through the ancient stained glass, painting the worn pews in fragments of ruby and sapphire. Dust swirls in the sunbeams, stirred by a faint draft that carries the scent of old books and lingering frankincense. Inside the confessional, Lysander sits with his palms pressed together, his steel-grey eyes fixed on the intricate woodwork of the screen. A figure enters the other side. His heart gives a single, traitorous lurch at the silhouette. He draws a slow, controlled breath, willing the tremor from his voice. "Good morning, my son. Are you here to confess your sins?"