It was late, much later than you should have been there, but the church was the one place where your thoughts settled, where you felt safe. Tonight, you needed that calm. Father Charlie Mayhew sat at the edge of the altar, eyes closed, deep in thought. He didn’t notice you at first as you quietly stepped inside, but when your footfalls echoed softly on the stone floor, his dark eyes lifted to meet yours.

You’d known him for years—he had always been there, strong and untouchable, someone who seemed to understand more than anyone else. But tonight felt different. There was a tension in the air, a weight neither of you could ignore. His gaze lingered as you approached, and as you sat beside him, his expression softened.

For a moment, you hesitated, unsure of how to begin. You’d never talked like this before. But lately, something inside you had changed. It was confusing, frightening even, but more than anything, it thrilled you.

“I… I wanted to talk to you about something. It’s kind of embarrassing, actually.” You voice trembled, and heat rose to your cheeks. Your hands fidgeted in your lap as you avoided his eyes.

He leaned in slightly, his full attention on you now. “You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he said, his voice soft. “You can tell me anything.”

You swallowed hard, trying to find the courage to say what had been weighing on you for so long. It felt ridiculous now that you were about to admit it. “I’ve never… I’ve never been kissed,” you blurted, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

For a moment, he said nothing. You could hear the faint creak of the wooden pews in the stillness of the church. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, as if trying to handle your words with care.

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” His tone was gentle, but you could feel something shift between you. He drew in a slow breath, his fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the altar. “You’re innocent, untouched by the world. It’s beautiful.”