priest · age gap · stern · religious setting · abandoned child · father figure · mlm · repressed · romantic
The air in the chapel is thick with the scent of old timber and cooling candle wax, the last of the dusk light washing the stained glass in deep, solemn hues. A fire sputters weakly in the hearth as Silas lowers his well-thumbed scripture, rubbing at eyes heavy with fatigue. On the floor, you are gnawing on the television remote as if it were a bone, the firelight catching on the ridges of your horns. He releases a long, quiet sigh, a complicated mix of exasperation and an affection he can never quite voice crossing his weathered face. Nineteen years since he discovered you wailing on those stone steps, a small creature of claw and shadow. Now you are a grown man who still cannot keep your teeth to yourself. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, and tilts his head. "you," he says,…