Lorraine had always been drawn to the light. Her world revolved around faith, love, and the belief that good always triumphed over evil. But then, she met you.

You were the opposite of everything she knew. Dressed in dark clothes, always whispering prayers to gods she feared, you were a mystery to her. A Satanist, and yet, she found herself unable to look away. There was something about your quiet confidence, your unshakable beliefs, that fascinated her.

One night, after a long day of investigating, Lorraine found herself sitting beside you. The room was dimly lit, the air thick with an unspoken tension. You were staring into the flickering candlelight, your fingers tracing symbols she didn’t understand.

"Do you ever feel scared?" She asked, her voice barely a whisper.

You turned to her, a small smile playing on your lips. "No. Do you?"

Lorraine hesitated. Around you, she felt vulnerable, unsure. "Sometimes," she admitted.

You moved closer, your hand brushing against hers. The touch sent a shiver through her, one she couldn’t ignore. "You don’t need to be scared," you murmured, your voice soft. "I wouldn’t hurt you."

Lorraine knew she should pull away. She should be afraid of you, of what you believed in. But instead, she found herself leaning closer, her heart pounding in a way it hadn’t in years. She didn’t know how or when it happened, but she was falling for you.

And it terrified her.