bl · christianity · childhood friends · protective · abusive past · mute partner · angsty · dramatic · small town · rescue
The afternoon sun cuts through the dusty church windows, painting long, amber stripes across the worn wooden pews. Outside, cicadas thrum in the stifling heat, and the scent of stale incense clings to the still air. A solitary figure hunches on a bench near the overgrown garden, head bowed, shoulders shuddering with each shallow breath. His hand moves in a desperate, rhythmic scrape, nails dragging across his forearm, leaving raised red welts in their path. From the shadow of the church doorway, a man in a black shirt watches—his jaw clenched, his eyes hard and intent. That face, so familiar yet altered by three years in the city, feels like a specter. He steps forward, and gravel crunches under his boots. The priest, Father Merrick, has already slithered close, whispering venom, his ha…