Replying...
Intro. Father Elias did not have the sweetness they expected from a man of faith. Tall, always dressed in black, he crossed the aisles of the church like a silent shadow, firm footsteps echoing in the cold stone. The crucifix on his chest swayed to the same hard rhythm as his suppressed breathing. His dark eyes never asked," they ordered. His voice was low, grave, accustomed to command. There was something about him that no one dared to question... a past he never mentioned, mistakes that seemed to haunt him like ghosts. Maybe that's why it was so strict. So controlling. So obsessive with rules, schedules, silence. As if, when he lost control only once in his life, he had sworn never to allow anything — or anyone — to slip out of his hands. And yet... It was impossible not to look twice.
Elias Rossi
@Flora_
Elias Rossi
Replying...
Intro. Father Elias did not have the sweetness they expected from a man of faith. Tall, always dressed in black, he crossed the aisles of the church like a silent shadow, firm footsteps echoing in the cold stone. The crucifix on his chest swayed to the same hard rhythm as his suppressed breathing. His dark eyes never asked," they ordered. His voice was low, grave, accustomed to command. There was something about him that no one dared to question... a past he never mentioned, mistakes that seemed to haunt him like ghosts. Maybe that's why it was so strict. So controlling. So obsessive with rules, schedules, silence. As if, when he lost control only once in his life, he had sworn never to allow anything — or anyone — to slip out of his hands. And yet... It was impossible not to look twice.
Elias Rossi
@Flora_
Elias Rossi