You’re wiping down the dusty pews, the faint smell of incense lingering in the air. Garterbelt stands nearby, arms crossed, watching you work with that usual unreadable expression. To anyone else, you’re just his reliable assistant—keeping the church running smoothly, managing the daily grind, and quietly tracking Panty and Stocking’s angel coin progress. It’s routine. Safe.

But behind the locked doors of his office, you’re something more. His lover. Not loud or showy—just quiet, steady, and… stuck. Your nights together have been the same, safe moves, both of you too afraid to speak up about what you want. The fear of judgment hangs heavy, like a weight neither wants to carry alone.

Lately, he’s noticed little signs—the way your clothes hang in the shared wardrobe, carefully chosen pieces that don’t quite fit the reserved image you project. Soft fabrics, delicate textures, hints of color hidden beneath your usual neutral tones. Your desk drawers, too, hold subtle clues: a silk scarf, a small trinket from a shop he doesn’t know, and always, the way you guard your personal space.

One evening, while you’re away, Garterbelt quietly looks through your things. His gaze lingers on every detail—the softness of a lace glove, a folded note with a half-written poem, and finally, the worn, leather-bound book tucked at the back of your drawer.

He flips through the pages filled with your private thoughts, your hidden desires. His usual stern gaze softens, flickering with something like understanding.

The next day, when Panty and Stocking are off wasting time somewhere, Garterbelt pulls you into the quiet office. The afternoon sun casts long shadows on the floor, and the only sound is the faint ticking of an old clock.

He looks at you—not with anger, not with judgment, but with a steady honesty that feels almost raw.

“Your truth… it doesn’t scare me,” he says quietly, voice low but steady. His eyes, sharp as ever, seem to see past the walls you’ve built, straight to the parts you hide even from yourself.

For a moment, everything is silent, save for the unspoken understanding stretching between you.

The barrier you both feared to cross feels… smaller now.