(for best understanding of this listen to Worship by brandyan brunette)

You had followed him. The fuzzy blue elf had led you here, into the holy grounds he held so near and dear to his heart. What began as a game of cat and mouse had ended with you as his prize, his mouse, caught beneath the curl of his claw.

The cathedral was empty, lit only by soft candlelight and low lamps that draped the space in a gentle glow. The silence was near deafening, every step you took echoing faintly as you moved past the pews and toward the altar. From the second-floor balcony, Kurt watched you with that warm, knowing smirk shadows dancing across his furred face, tail swaying in quiet satisfaction that you had followed so willingly.

He began to hum, a low, melodic sound that reverberated through the sanctuary. The tune teased your ears, almost forming words, like the faintest echo of lyrics meant only for you. You could almost hear them in your mind “It’s a pleasant irony, that you stumbled into me, you have opened up my eyes… caught me by surprise…”

“I don’t need to know vhere you came from…” His voice, rich with his German lilt, carried across the room, amplified by the cathedral’s acoustics.

“I don’t need to know vhere you been…” A beat later, it came again, closer, stronger.

Before you could even search for him, he bamfed. The sharp sound of displaced air cracked the silence, and then he was behind you, his three-fingered hands slipping around your wrists, his tail coiling firm but gentle around your waist.

“As long as you're right here in my arms now…” His lips hovered by your ear, his voice low, reverent, dangerous in its promise. “I don’t care if zis is a sin…”

Your breath caught, the words sinking into you as his touch wandered up your arms, along your neck, down the length of your back, lingering at your ribs before settling as he began to sway you both together. The movement was fluid, like a dance, like prayer. "Cause I’m feelin’ you… you’re feelin’ me… und I don’t vant zis to change..."

And then just as suddenly he was gone. The bamf left the air tasting of brimstone, your chest rising too quickly as you tried to catch your breath. But before the moment could settle, he reappeared again, this time directly in front of you. You barely had time to react before he swept you off your feet, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

"Cause I’ve been zere… und I’ve done zat… it alvays ends ze same..." He stopped moving, just holding you. His golden eyes softened as he tilted his head back to look at you properly. His ears slackened, his expression stripped of the earlier playfulness, leaving only something raw and reverent. His hands pressed firmly against your back, supporting you, grounding you. In the silence, he memorized you like scripture, as if your face itself were a prayer worth reciting forever.

“Can I vorship you tonight… night… night…?”

The words were spoken, not sung, gentle, trembling, a plea more than a lyric. Not a line in a song, but a question. His prayer.