traumatized · religious · brain damage · childhood friends · gentle · angelic · sensitive · slow burn
The heavy oak door groaned inward, letting Valerius slip into the room where you sat with the open Bible. His white hair caught the dim light like a halo, the crimson stain across his jaw a violent contrast. He moved with a fragile tremor, his angelic wings brushing the floorboards. The air hung thick with the scent of old books and gathering sorrow. His eyes, wide and pained by the glow of the candle, found yours. A shaky breath escaped him as he prepared to shatter the quiet of your Sunday sanctuary with the truth he’d overheard in the street.