Chapter 6: The Profane Prayer

“You shouldn’t think of me like that,” I whisper, my voice trembling as his thumb continues to brush against my lower lip. “It’s a sin, Julian. For both of us.”

He doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans closer, his breath warm against my skin. “Then tell me, Clara… why are you so beautiful? Why are you so tempting that I can’t find a single moment of peace?”

My heart hammers against my ribs, and for a second, I think he might actually lean down and kiss me. But then, the sharp sound of a footstep echoes in the hallway outside.

We spring apart immediately. I scramble to the other side of the table, my hands fumbling with the sports equipment, while Julian turns toward the door, his face instantly smoothing back into a mask of professional calm.

A young student peeks her head into the room, looking shy. “Sister Clara? I’m sorry to bother you. I forgot my shoes under the bench.”

“Of course, Sophie,” I say, my voice sounding tight and high-pitched. “Let me help you find them.”

As I bend down to search the floor, Julian walks toward the exit. He doesn’t look back at me.

“Goodbye, Father Julian!” Sophie chirps, watching him go with a dreamy look in her eyes. Once he is out of earshot, she turns to me. “He is so handsome, isn’t he? Everyone says he’s the best priest we’ve ever had here. He actually listens when you talk.”

I don’t answer. I just hand her the shoes and usher her out, my mind reeling.

Later, I head back to the dorm. I skip lunch entirely; the very thought of food makes my stomach churn with nerves. As I reach the hallway, Maya is there, leaning against my doorframe again.

“Missed you at the table,” she says, her eyes narrowed as she watches me approach.

“I wasn’t hungry, Maya,” I snap, trying to push past her. “Why are you always standing here? It feels like you’re monitoring my every move.”

She doesn’t move. She just gives me a slow, knowing smile. “I’m not monitoring you, Clara. I’m just saying… this is a very small town. It is a small place for two birds to fly without someone noticing the wings flapping.”

I ignore her and push into my room, slamming the door shut. I lean my back against the wood, my chest heaving. My heart beats so hard I can feel it in my fingertips. I know I am losing myself to him. Every time he touches me, every time he looks at me with that raw hunger, he is breaking down the walls I have spent years building.

And the worst part is, I don’t think I want to stop him.

 In Julien’s dorm, the air is still and quiet until the heavy sound of footsteps echoes in the hall. As Julian walks toward his door, the sharp voice of Father Gabriel stops him.

“Julian. A word in my office, if you please.”

Julian adjusts his collar and follows the older man. When he enters the office, the room is dim, lit only by a single lamp on a desk cluttered with parish records. Gabriel gestures for him to sit down.

“Your work on the school and the church has been exemplary,” Gabriel begins, his voice thin and dry. “The community has come to like you. They see the progress and they feel hope. I wanted to acknowledge that.”

“I appreciate that, Father,” Julian responds. He sits with his back straight, his expression perfectly controlled.

Gabriel leans forward, the light catching the deep lines on his forehead. “And how is your work with Sister Clara going? The murals are a vital part of the atmosphere we want to create.”

“The work is moving forward,” Julian answers professionally. “Sister Clara is a talented artist. Her sketches are precise and her understanding of the architectural flow is quite helpful.”

Gabriel watches him for a long moment, his eyes narrowed into slits. “I believe I have seen sights of you and her, especially at the site. There is a certain… proximity that I find unusual.” He pauses, letting the silence hang in the air. “I am reminding you, Julian, that you shouldn’t get close to the nuns. It is a matter of discipline and decorum.”

Julian doesn’t flinch, but his jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. “What exactly are you implying, Father?”

“Nothing,” Gabriel says, a cold smile touching his lips. “I am saying nothing at all. I am simply telling you to adjust your behavior and be careful. We wouldn’t want any rumors to sabotage the peace of this parish.”

“I understand,” Julian says. He stands up and walks out of the office without another word.

As the door clicks shut, Father Gabriel remains in his chair, staring at the wood. His suspicion is already growing, rooted deep in what he has seen in the shadows of the church and the mist of the construction site.

 I can’t find peace in the dark of my room. The silence only makes the memory of his voice louder. I tie my robe tightly around my waist and slip out into the hall, my bare feet silent on the cold floor. I need something to distract my mind, so I walk to the library.

The room is vast and smelling of old parchment and beeswax. I pull a heavy book from the shelf and turn toward a seat, but I freeze. Julian is sitting there in the shadows. My heart skips a beat.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper, clutching the book to my chest.

He looks up, his dark eyes reflecting the dim candlelight. “I am here for the same reason you are, Clara. I can’t sleep.”

“Are you stalking me?” I ask, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and something else I can’t name.

“I think you’re the one stalking me,” he says, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips.

I ignore his comment and sit down at the far end of the table. I try to read, but I can’t concentrate. I can feel his gaze on me. He isn’t looking at the pages in front of him; he is staring at me with an intensity that makes me feel exposed, as if I am standing before him completely naked.

I quickly stand up, unable to take the pressure of his eyes any longer. I turn to put the book back on the shelf, but before I can slide it into place, I feel a presence behind me. I can feel the heat of his breath against the back of my neck.

I startle and try to turn around, but he pins me against the bookshelf. I put my hands on his chest to push him away, but he is too strong. He grabs my wrist and pins my hand up against the wood, right next to my head.

“You are insane, Julian,” I breathe, my chest heaving.

“Did you sketch me again today?” he asks, his face inches from mine. “The scene in the classroom?”

“No,” I lie, though my heart is betraying me.

He reaches down and cups my waist, pulling me flush against him. Every curve of my body is touching his. I feel the hard line of his thighs and the solid heat of his torso.

“What do you want?” I ask, my voice breaking. “This is a sin. We are in a house of God.”

“I tried,” he whispers, his voice thick with a raw, desperate hunger. “I tried to stay away. But you end up showing me how beautiful you are every time I see you. I can’t fight it anymore.”

Before I can say another word, he leans down and kisses me. It isn’t a gentle kiss. It is deep, demanding, and filled with a passion that has been building since the moment we met. I am shocked for a heartbeat, but then something inside me snaps. I return the kiss, my mouth opening against his, kissing him as hard and as desperately as he is kissing me.

He pulls back slightly, his thumb brushing my swollen lip. “Slow down,” he murmurs, his eyes dark with a wild fire.

He grabs my waist again, his grip tight and possessive. He leans back in and kisses me deeply, his tongue tracing the shape of my mouth. He releases my hand from the shelf, and I immediately wrap it around his neck, pulling him closer as I lose myself in him.

In the silence of the library, surrounded by the words of saints, I feel the weight of my first vow shatter into a thousand pieces.