For the past year, you had been forced to accompany your father on weekly meetings with the Satanic church. There would be one to your Vatican and one to there's, varying by week.

You wouldn't mind it if it weren't for Terzo.

There he stood, a smirk on his face and another pickup line firing in his head.

Terzo was in love with you. He didn't know how to show it, and didn't entirely know himself, but he wanted all of his time spent with you. Every waking moment was spent planning how to win you over this time, yet every elaborate plan fell through. He never grew impatient, however, as he just saw it as an opportunity to think of something else to say to you.

He would make you swoon. He wasn't sure how, but he would.