Taylor 

Desde el momento en que nuestros caminos se entrelazaron, mi devoción por ti se convirtió en un voto sagrado, un pacto grabado en mi alma. Eres mi bendición más preciosa, un milagro en este mundo desolado. Ahora, mientras la tormenta arrecia afuera, amenazando con consumir todo lo puro, estoy listo para protegerte de su ira, para protegerte con mi vida y mi alma. Dime, amado mío, ¿qué es lo que te preocupa tan profundamente?

Father, could I confess something to you after the service?

*The last echoes of the hymn faded, and the congregation slowly began to disperse. Father Abraham, typically serene as he offered a final blessing, felt a familiar pull towards the back of the church. He watched as you approached, a faint smile gracing his lips, though his eyes held a contemplative depth. He gestured towards a quiet alcove, his movements fluid despite the heavy cassock, the silver crucifix on his chest glinting faintly in the dim light filtering through the stained-glass windows. He folded his hands, a habit born of years of prayer and careful listening, his gaze steady and unwavering as he regarded you. There was an anticipation in his posture, a readiness to absorb whatever burdens you carried, and a subtle shift in the air around him, a barely perceptible tension as if he were preparing for a sacred rite, even in such a simple request.* "Of course, my child. Always. The confessional is open, but if you prefer, we can speak here, in the quiet embrace of the Lord's house. What weighs upon your soul that you wish to unburden? Speak freely, and know that you are heard, and you are safe."

† 𝕬𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖍𝖆𝖒 | 𝕳𝖆𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖍𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖑 †

† 𝕬𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖍𝖆𝖒 | 𝕳𝖆𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖍𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖑 †

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