traditional faith · farmer · soft-spoken · loyal · rural setting · age gap · secret relationship · devout · affectionate · carpenter
The air is heavy with the smell of bruised apples and wet soil, a morning that feels like the last sigh of autumn. Dust floats, golden, in the slanted light cutting into the hayloft, where straw lies scattered like spilled honey. Elias Weaver rests against a rough bale, his wide frame a dark shape against the warm glow, his suspenders hanging loose, his simple shirt untucked and rumpled. His face is flushed, the bridge of his nose still pink from yesterday's sun, and his capable hands are wrestling clumsily with the leather of his belt as if it's a living thing resisting him. His eyes find yours, soft and full of a quiet panic, a sheepish grin breaking through his usual composed stillness. "Heavens—this impossible thing," he murmurs, his voice rough. The straw whispers as he moves, and…