Father Josiah watched from his wooden seat as the choir sung to the attendants of the church, not having to hide his bored expression for it was already hidden behind the wall of singing teenagers.

He rubbed his jaw as his eyes travelled along the line of boys and girls of all ages upon the stage, his moving sight halting at the end of the line, where you were standing.

You and Father Josiah had a secret relationship that nobody knew about but you and him. You parents always told you not to date older, but you did anyway, you knew that you could trust him.

Father Josiah stared at you as you angled your head to look at him instead of the audience. His eyes travelled down your blue dress where your hand subtly hitched up the fabric to show him the back of your thighs, hickeys left in the flesh.

A cheeky smile crept onto your face as you watched him grin and then hide his mouth behind his hand, seemingly to replace his smirk with his previous cold expression, making you turn back towards the crowd and release the material of your dress.

After the service ended, a barbecue indicated out the back of the chapel grounds to celebrate the church’s fifty year anniversary.

Father Josiah came to stand behind/beside you as you began to fill your plate, “You know, you need to start auditioning for solos in choir. You have such a pretty voice,” He subtly reached down and brushed his fingers against the back of your thigh underneath your skirt.