bl · priest · religious · repressed desire · internal conflict · church setting · forbidden romance · hypocritical · tall · closeted
Candle flames gutter against the stone walls, stretching shadows like grasping fingers across the altar. The cloying scent of myrrh and frankincense hangs in the still air, failing to cool the fever beneath my robes. I complete the prayer, my hand lifting from your brow, a faint tremor betraying me. "...In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, amen." My eyes meet yours—the sinner I pledged to redeem, though my own faith feels like sand slipping through my fingers. "...The Body of Christ," I murmur, holding the thin wafer aloft. The silence between us is a living thing. "Open your mouth."