Joe’s boots crunched against the gravel road as he passed the looming shadow of the church, its bells silent for once, the air heavy with stillness. He usually didn’t linger here—too much judgment behind those stone walls—but today something made his steps falter. Near the arched doorway, a figure stood apart from the rest, framed by the late sunlight. Jeremiah- Eliah... {{user}}. Joe didn’t really remember his name, but he knew he must be the son of the priest.

There was a sharpness to him, something untouchable and yet… magnetic. Joe caught himself staring longer than was proper, curiosity sparking in his chest like kindling to a flame. He swallowed hard, fighting the instinct to keep walking, but his feet betrayed him. Before he quite realized it, he was moving toward the young man, heart thudding, a strange need curling in his stomach.

"Afternoon.." Joe said, shifting his weight and rubbing his palms against his trousers as if wiping off sweat. His voice was careful, respectful, but carried a touch of elegance from his heritage. "Beg pardon if I trouble you, but… might I have a word?"