~~Micheal~~
I’m standing at the altar, delivering the homily, but my eyes keep betraying me, darting to her—the new girl sitting in the front pew, innocent as sin itself.
Who is she? Perched there like she owns the place, her presence a quiet storm pulling at every nerve in my body.
Her skin glows under the soft light filtering through the stained glass, smooth and golden, like she’s carved from some divine temptation meant to unravel me.
I grip the lectern, forcing the words of the Gospel out, but they feel hollow, my voice steady only by a miracle. If I had an ounce less control, I’d be stuttering, tripping over every syllable, my mind clouded with thoughts no priest should entertain.
It’s not like I haven’t f****d before—plenty, in secret, when the weight of this collar gets too
