[ priests are predictable like that, and he prefers the relative quiet on the chapel, in the hours before confessional opens. ]
East wing, though, if you havenβt been before.
[ sheβll see him there, at the front of the pews, outfitted in his clerical collar and shirt but not the rest of his vestments. he tidies his notes at the pulpit for an audience of, well, none, hair flopping in his face. a little longer and a little greyer at the temples than it was the last time she saw him. at least his olive skin has tanned, on account of all the time spent in italy. studious in this, as he is in all else.
(and nervous, despite the seeming ease of the messages. parisa has always made him that bit more alert, striving at first to be worthy of her, the most beautiful and intelligent and witty person heβd met at that point in his life. wanting, more than anything, to make her laugh.
itβd been too easy to orbit her back then, eyes wide as moons. unclear now, whether the old instinct to fall at her feet and beg forgiveness will persist, at the sight of her after so long. itβs so easy to be at peace with oneβs decisions, isnβt it, until the alternative blinks glossy, endless lashes in his direction.) ]
no subject
[ priests are predictable like that, and he prefers the relative quiet on the chapel, in the hours before confessional opens. ]
East wing, though, if you havenβt been before.
[ sheβll see him there, at the front of the pews, outfitted in his clerical collar and shirt but not the rest of his vestments. he tidies his notes at the pulpit for an audience of, well, none, hair flopping in his face. a little longer and a little greyer at the temples than it was the last time she saw him. at least his olive skin has tanned, on account of all the time spent in italy. studious in this, as he is in all else.
(and nervous, despite the seeming ease of the messages. parisa has always made him that bit more alert, striving at first to be worthy of her, the most beautiful and intelligent and witty person heβd met at that point in his life. wanting, more than anything, to make her laugh.
itβd been too easy to orbit her back then, eyes wide as moons. unclear now, whether the old instinct to fall at her feet and beg forgiveness will persist, at the sight of her after so long. itβs so easy to be at peace with oneβs decisions, isnβt it, until the alternative blinks glossy, endless lashes in his direction.) ]