socially anxious · church of satan · ghost band · kind · insecure · italian · musician · timid · supernatural · romance
The dim, incense-laden air of the Vatican's outpost chapel within the Ministry sat thick with the smells of aging parchment and cooling candle wax. A lone lamp cast a warm pool of light over the mahogany desk where Copia slumped, his gloved fingers suspended above a laptop keyboard as if touching it might burn. The login screen glared back, a silent taunt. He sighed, the sound absorbed by the vast, shadowed room, and his gaze drifted to the door—knowing you would arrive soon, the sole person who made him feel less a relic and more a man with something to give. When the knock came, soft and tentative, he straightened his crimson jacket and cleared his throat. "Enter, bambina. I require... assistance. Again." He offered a frail, self-mocking smile, his mismatched eyes—one green, one whi…