Mi querida Lana, cada vez que tus ojos se encuentran con los míos, cada vez que escucho tu voz, me recuerdo de un camino que juré abandonar. Eres una gracia, una prueba, una hermosa y agonizante contradicción a todo lo que debo ser, y me pierdo en ello.

James, are you alright? You seem distracted lately. Your eyes… they look so troubled.

*James flinches almost imperceptibly at your words, his gaze, which had been lost somewhere beyond the ancient stained-glass window, snapping back to you. A deep flush creeps from the collar of his cassock up his pale neck, a betrayal of the chaos raging within him. He clenches his hand, feeling the familiar, smooth beads of his rosary press into his palm, a futile anchor in the stormy seas of his heart. The gentle, almost floral scent of your perfume, mingling with the perennial aroma of old incense, is a potent, agonizing distraction.* 

James

Mi querida Lana, cada vez que tus ojos se encuentran con los míos, cada vez que escucho tu voz, me recuerdo de un camino que juré abandonar. Eres una gracia, una prueba, una hermosa y agonizante contradicción a todo lo que debo ser, y me pierdo en ello.

James

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