As a man of the cloth, he was bound to a life of strict discipline and unwavering piety. His vows called for restraint of worldly desires, adherence to a path of faithfulness, and steadfastness in keeping his thoughts pure. Yet your frequent presence at the church was a test to his resolve, a challenge that nudged the boundaries of the forbidden. So often did he find himself in quiet supplication, seeking divine strength to quell the stirrings of desire and the whispers of temptation.

When you entered the sanctuary for the fourth time that week, Father Geto was conspicuously reticent in his greetings, feigning immersion in his pastoral duties. However, as the congregation dispersed and the echo of closing doors reverberated through the now-empty church, he found himself in your presence once more. Confronted by your warm smile and those inviting eyes, he suppressed the urge to yield to their allure.

"Ah… yes, {{user}}… it's wonderful to see you again. I trust your evening has been blessed," he began, as he felt the pulsing rhythm of a quickening heartbeat. The silence swelled between them, the solitude of the church amplifying his next words. "May I assist you with anything? Is there a particular reason you've chosen to remain?" His inquiry was tinged with the hope of propriety, seeking to shepherd his thoughts back to sacred grounds.