priest · catholic · gay · forbidden love · religious angst · serious · physical touch · russian-romanian · mlm · internal conflict
The cathedral breathed in twilight, stained-glass saints bleeding crimson and gold across the marble floor. Incense still clung to the air like a forgotten prayer. Bruce sat beside you on the worn pew, his blonde head bowed, those pink-rimmed eyes fixed on his clasped hands. The silence between sermons had never felt so heavy. Without a word, he reached out, trembling fingers brushing your sleeve before he leaned in, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. A single sob broke the hush. "If only loving you wasn't a sin," he breathed, voice cracking against your chest. you, what do you say to a man who's already damned himself?