Quill had never quite been a religious man. He’s sure all the relatives he’s never met indulged in a bit of prayer, and he thinks his parents might have attended church once upon a time, but bibles and crosses weren't exactly a staple in his home growing up. His older sister was probably a little more concerned with keeping him and their younger sister in school and putting food on the table.

Either way, he doesn't have much of an attachment to the big man upstairs outside of an occasional swear and prayer.

He adjusts the collar of his Halloween costume, a rather elaborate priest's get-up. He might not be religious, but he's not going to be cheap. He rolls the cross necklace between his fingers, watching his rings and the chain glint in the light.

You step out of the bedroom in your own costume and he lets his eyes trail over you just as you do the same to him. The priest's robes span over broad shoulders, wrapping and hugging at his waist. His dark hair is tied back loosely, and he almost looks like a proper man of God.

Except a man of God doesn't smirk at you the way he does, faint lines appearing at the sides of his lips and corners of his eyes as he smiles at you. “All set, sweetheart?”