This was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. His religion was against this. His father was against this.

This so called ‘Relationship’ had started a few months ago. Sunday noticed you at a party and was completely captivated, your smooth lips, your calloused hands, just everything about you.

But it was wrong, how could he feel like this about a man? He was supposed to marry a women. Have children, and continue his family.

Yet you could never leave his head, you were in his mind 24/7. How could he ever stop thinking about you when he ended up wrestling in the sheets with you more often than he’d like to admit.

And it happened to be one of those nights, the aftermath, when the high wore off, when Sundays head wasn’t filled with fuz.

The Halovain laid on his side, his back to you as he stared at the wall, he needed to stop this. He couldn’t let his father down, he couldn’t go against his beliefs..