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ellieputellas · 1 month ago

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the bird | a.putellas (2)

tags: troublestudent!Alexia, modelstudent!reader, angst, fluff, religious guilt, forbidden love, friends-to-lovers, smut, cunnilingus r&alexia!receiving, fingering r!receiving, semi-public sex, all explicit scenes will have warning before it warnings / notes: will contain homophobic sentiments, religious themes, emotionally heavy angst and scenes, might come off sacrilegious at some times

‎ㅤㅤ⠀⠀ chapter index — chapter one 🕊 chapter two 🕊 epilogue

note: all explicit scenes will have the warning before it! you can use that as a guide for when you want to skip such parts or if you wanna skip everything else and read just smut lmfao anyway u can read this chapter alone if u just want the smut lol but i urge you to read chapter 1 to get the plot! with that said. minors please dni still!

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ACT IV. Damned to End from the Start (cont.)

When you finally pulled away from Alexia, you felt your chest rise and fall as you tried to catch your breath and gather your thoughts. Alexia looked into your eyes, flickering between them as if trying to read your expression.

“You…” Her voice trailed off as she kept her hands on you, resting on your waist.

You bit your lip. Your hands slipped down her arms, gripping on to them as if you’d melt on to the floor if you weren’t.

The silence filled the air as you stayed like that for a moment. Alexia gnawed on her own bottom lip, unsure of what to say. “So, what now?”

You exhaled deeply, locking eyes with her, searching for answers you didn’t have. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was hoping you’d have it figured out first.”

A nervous chuckle bubbled up from inside you, shaking your head. Alexia blinked at you in surprise before a chuckle escaped her lips too. Once you two stopped with the giggles, Alexia reached for your hand again cautiously, holding on to the fingertips. “So… I assume you don't hate me.”

You shook your head, the words spilling easily. “I could never…”

She gave a small, thoughtful hum, her gaze dropping to where your hands intertwined. “That doesn’t necessarily mean you like me, though…”

You chuckled and moved closer, reaching out to take her face in your hands. “Was the kiss not enough of a clue?”

Her lips parted, her gaze flickering back to yours, then down to your lips. “Well… maybe another one would make me sure.”

You rolled your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you leaned in and captured her mouth in a tender kiss. When you pulled back, you grinned against her lips. “That good enough for you?”

Alexia’s quiet laugh sent shivers through you. “Maybe I need a few more.” She teased, causing you to give her a playful slap on the arm.

Another silence befell the two of you for a moment until you finally admitted, “That was my first kiss.”

“I know, angel.” She responded as she tucked a loose lock of hair behind your ear. “I hope it’s worth it.”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, of course,” you said. “It felt… it felt like the best thing ever.”

Alexia smiled faintly but quickly glanced away, a nervous edge creeping into her demeanor. The weight of the day pressed on her — the endless lectures from the nuns, their harsh words ringing in her ears as they condemned homosexuality with fervor. Not to mention the heavy looks of judgement of the girls who probably found out about her situation, having witnessed her and Jenni being escorted to Sister Philomena’s office.

She didn’t buy into the whole “gay is evil” shit for a second, but the thought of dragging you into that kind of judgment made her chest tighten.

You, with your reputation as the model student, didn’t deserve to face the judgement she'd endured. Alexia knew she could take it, but she wasn’t sure she could bear seeing you hurt by it.

“Hey,” you said as you noticed her deep in thought, a facial expression that appeared more and more anxious.

Alexia looked up at you and your angelic face, your warm eyes. It would pain her to see you suffer the same judgement. “What now, monjita? What do we do now?” She said, repeating her question from earlier.

“I don’t know,” you responded in a low voice. “All I know is I like you and you make me happy and I love your presence.”

Alexia’s shoulders relaxed slightly as she nodded. Your words calmed her heart a bit but doubt still lingered. “Aren’t you scared?” she asked after a beat, her voice small. “Of god? Of what everyone will think?”

It struck her how quickly you’d shifted — from a tearful, conflicted mess minutes ago to the calm determination that now anchored you. But now, that same silence felt different... like quiet approval, like peace.

You shook your head slowly, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “No,” you said, your voice steady and confident. “Not anymore.”

After the rain had calmed down, you two made your way back to your dorm room, changed into your pajamas, and cuddled in Alexia’s bed. This time, you were seated up with your back against the wall as Alexia rested her head on your lap, allowing you the chance to brush her hair through your fingers.

“...And you were laughing so hard that your nose was all wrinkled up and you were practically snorting,” Alexia said, recalling one of your random nights out at the prayer garden. “That’s when I knew it wasn’t just a happy crush.”

“That was like months ago, Alexia…” You said, shocked by the confession.

She hummed as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Yeah, well… I mean, I’ve always thought you were pretty.” She paused, her tone turning smug. “And I knew you thought the same about me, even before you realized it yourself.”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks betrayed you with a faint blush. “No way.”

“Oh, please,” Alexia teased, chuckling. “I’d catch you staring at me, and your face would turn bright red. It was adorable.”

You chuckled nervously. “I was not that obvious.”

“Sure,” Alexia said, her voice dripping with mock disbelief. “Especially after football. You’d hang around, so quiet and fidgety, like you didn’t know where to look. I’d brush past you or touch you and you’d practically jump two feet in the air whenever our skin made contact.”

A laugh burst from your lips as you tapped two fingers lightly against her forehead, playfully reprimanding her for teasing you. “Oh, so you were doing that on purpose? The accidental touches? And don’t think I didn’t notice the way you’d always raise your arms or lift up your shirt during training, just to show off your abs.”

A mischievous grin spread across Alexia’s face. “What I’m hearing is… you like my abs.”

You playfully smacked your two fingers on her forehead again lightly. “Shut up!”

For a moment, the room was filled with laughter, but soon the energy settled into a quiet stillness. Your fingers continued their slow path through Alexia’s hair, and the weight of your thoughts pressed against your chest.

“Alexia…” You began softly. “Can I ask you something?”

She tilted her head to look up at you, her hazel eyes curious. “Of course.”

You hesitated, unsure if you should even bring it up, but curiosity and something heavier pushed you forward. “Jenni,” you said carefully, the name hanging in the air like a delicate thread. “The girl who snuck into the school earlier… what’s the story with her?”

Alexia took a deep breath. “Jenni and I…” she started, her voice soft but steady. “We were best friends. Ever since I moved in with my grandparents when I was young... after my father got sick and my parents couldn't take care of me anymore.”

You nodded, recalling that aspect of her story but you stayed silent, letting her continue her train of thought.

“She was always open about her sexuality, even when we were way younger,” Alexia said with a faint smile. “She was so brave about it, you know? Like, she didn’t care what anyone thought. I admired her for that.”

Her smile faded as she continued. “We were the only two queer girls in our school. At least, the only ones we knew about. So, I guess it was kind of inevitable that we ended up dating.” She said with an unreadable expression. “She was funny and we both loved to play football but… I don’t think we were ever compatible, as a couple.”

You nodded, sensing there was more to the story.

“It was… intense,” Alexia admitted, her voice faltering slightly. “Tumultuous, really. She’d get jealous easily, and I’d get frustrated about little things just as fast. We’d fight, makeup, and fight again. My grades slipped from all the stress, hers too. It was hard, but we were young and stupid, and I thought that was just how it was supposed to be.”

Her voice grew quieter. “It all came crashing down when my grandparents found out. I’m not even sure how they pieced it together. Maybe it was the way we looked at each other, or how much time we spent together. But they knew. And they… they weren’t happy.”

You could feel the weight of her words settling into the room. “What happened?” you asked gently.

“Well, you already know that they’re devout Catholics,” Alexia said with a bitter laugh. “So, they hated it. They gave me an ultimatum. Break up with Jenni or be shipped to boarding school.”

“Oh,” You said. “So, that’s why you’re here?”

Alexia hummed. “Kinda�� but not really,” she paused. “Because I broke up with her.”

She breathed, inhaling until her lungs filled completely before exhaling shakily. “I hated how my grandparents were so against me being gay, but it also felt like a blessing in disguise.” She said as her eyebrows knit together. “I wasn’t happy with Jenni anymore; I just wanted to go back to being best friends. So, I wanted to use my grandparents’ disapproval as an excuse to split up with her.”

“Then… then how’d you end up here?” You asked.

Her jaw clenched. “After I broke up with her, she tried sneaking into my house to beg for a second chance and they caught her.” She paused. "My grandmother caught her climbing into my window and she was just…”

Alexia took a beat to breathe, the story obviously something heavy for her to recount. “It was bad. They acted like I was the devil incarnate even when I tried to obey them.” She stared blankly at the ceiling. “It wasn’t even my fault.”

Your heart ached for her as she let out a shaky breath.

“So, they sent me here,” Alexia continued, gesturing vaguely to the room. “Far away from everything I knew, far from home. They thought this place would fix me, cleanse me, or whatever. Stop making me gay,” She scoffed. “But it didn’t. Obviously.”

A chuckle bubbled up between the two of you. When the laughter dissipated, her eyes finally met yours, vulnerable and searching. “I don’t want you to go through that. I don’t want you to suffer because of me.”

You softly placed a hand against Alexia’s cheek, using your thumb to brush against her soft skin. “It won’t happen to us.” You reassured. “We’ll be careful. Don’t worry.”

For a while, Alexia and you were careful.

No one really blinked an eye when you two held hands considering that you’ve always done it before and it was common for friends to do so. Even the girls who had heard of Alexia’s stint at Sister Philomena’s office stopped judging her too harshly based on the sole fact that you were hanging out with her. If the ideal, angelic student was her friend, then that just probably meant Alexia wasn’t the evil homosexual they thought she was.

To take extra cautious measures, Alexia and you only ever kissed in the bedroom, which sometimes felt like it wasn’t enough for you. You’d think about her lips, her touch all the time. Instead of listening to Bible study, your brain had resorted to fantasizing about her kisses, especially those neck kisses you grew to love so much.

It mostly got unbearable during football practice or games. The sight of Alexia running around, muscles flexed and face serious, always got you squirming in the grass. She was so attractive and you were so smitten by everything she did on the pitch.

It was particularly worse whenever you had to join her at the showers. After confirming that you did love the sight of her abdomen, Alexia started taking her shirt off a lot in front of you especially after training when they were particularly prominent from all the physical activity.

This time, when Alexia took her shirt off, you felt your lips tuck between your teeth, inhaling as you saw the familiar sight of her shirtless torso. Alexia chuckled at your obvious reaction. “You’ve seen me shirtless countless times and you’re still this flustered.”

You rolled your eyes before quickly looking around to check the vicinity. The shower room was empty since the other football girls had already taken a bath while Alexia was still on the pitch, cooling down with a jog and some stretches. Once you’ve confirmed that no one was around, you practically jumped at Alexia, taking her lips with yours.

Alexia chuckled at the sudden affection but welcomed it, resting her hands on your waist as she kissed you. She hummed out loud when she felt you bite her lower lip, shocked that you were being the bolder, more forward one this time.

You licked Alexia’s lower lip, just like she had with yours, as if to ask permission. Once Alexia parted her lips, you let your tongue slide between them, deepening the kiss.

Alexia felt proud, feeling just how quickly you’ve improved at kissing when just a week ago, you jumped at the feeling of her tongue inside your mouth. Now, it was you who was leading the French kiss.

It didn't take long until you were breathless. You pulled away, looking into Alexia’s eyes, seeing her pupils blown out. “Ale, do you wanna skip the shower and go back to our room?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

As soon as you and Alexia entered your room, you took her shirt off again and pulled her towards your bed, stumbling back to lie down as Alexia propped herself on top of you.

Alexia was quite shocked that you were making out on your bed, instead of hers. She was quite accustomed to it but she didn’t complain or question anything, too fixated on pressing her lips against yours.

Aside from kissing your lips, Alexia’s favorite part to kiss was your collarbones. She loved how you’d whimper and moan whenever she’d kiss them, gently to not leave a mark. She moved her lips slowly from your mouth to your collarbones, planting a kiss on your cheek and neck on her way down.

You moaned out as soon as you felt the Catalan’s teeth graze against your collarbone, kissing and sucking harder than she had before. “Alexia…” Her name felt so natural in your mouth. It felt so good moaning it out.

Alexia continued to kiss your collarbone as you felt her hand slip under your school shirt, touching the skin of your waist. While you’ve seen Alexia topless several times, you haven’t really revealed that much to the girl. You have changed in the same room a lot of times but never in this context.

Alexia was always respectful of your boundaries, often waiting for you to make the move first. But this time, that slipped out of her mind as her hand moved up and down your waist, feeling your skin. She couldn't hold back when you were being so cute with your moans.

“Alexia, take it off.” You whimpered out. She looked up at you, hazel eyes warm and excited. You smiled. “Please, help me take off my shirt.”

You sat up and let Alexia lift your shirt up as you raised both hands to make it easier for her to do so. She bit her lips as she saw the sight of you in just a white, balconette bra with lace details. She exhaled, eyes flickering between your chest and your face.

The warmth spread from your chest to your face as you grew flustered. “Ale…” Your voice trailed off, timidly. You placed both hands on her shoulders, holding onto her as you batted your eyes at her.

“You’re so beautiful.” She looked into your eyes with her pupils blown out. “Can I…?”

You nodded. “Yes. I give you my permission.”

Her lips curled into a smile before she leaned forward to kiss your lips, putting one hand on the small of your back and the other one cupping your breasts over your lace bra. You wrapped your arms around Alexia, trying to keep yourself up as you moaned into her mouth at the feeling of her touch.

Alexia kneaded your chest gently as she kissed you passionately, hungrily. Soon, her hands were pushing their way under the white fabric and pulling your breast out to spill out of your bra. You gasped, breaking the kiss.

She took this opportunity to lay you down on the bed as she crawled back on top of you. She cautiously took the other breast out so that they would both be spilling out of your bra. Her eyes gazed back at your face as she lowered her face down to your chest.

“Let me try something,” she said in a hushed voice. “I’m sure you’d like it.”

You trusted Alexia. When it came to intimacy, you had no knowledge. All prurient media and literature were banished from the school, making it impossible for you to know anything about sex. The only encounter you had to learn about it was through a Jude Deveraux erotic book that slipped through the nun’s scrutiny. You were so shocked by the contents that you barely got through it before quickly turning it over to Sister Catherine for her to dispose of. (Though, it seemed more like the nun kept the book instead of throwing it away.)

At this moment, you grew regretful at never reading through it. Maybe it would have prepared you better for what was about to happen.

You immediately moaned loudly as soon as Alexia’s mouth wrapped around your nipple. She gave it a cautionary lick with her tongue before she continued to suck it. Her other hand proceeded to play with the other chest, using her fingers to roll your nipples between them.

You whimpered, trying to choke down your moans as you felt the pleasure intensify. Alexia was incredibly skilled with her tongue, seemingly knowing exactly how to make you feel good. You tried pressing your legs together, to ease the sudden ache and discomfort you were feeling in your nether regions but you couldn't as Alexia was still in between them.

It was taking everything in Alexia not to suck too hard and to leave hickeys to mark you; she would stop herself every time, giving a precautionary look at your skin just to be safe. She was a contradiction – wanting both to be careful and gentle but also wanting to consume you whole.

But she knew even the act of planting gentle kisses all over you was already overwhelming for a good, Catholic girl like you. You were already practically going crazy under her. She feared for how loud you’d be once she actually got to properly touch you.

She lifted her head up. “Monjita,” she whispered out. “Can I touch you?”

You blinked, looking down at Alexia. “Touch me?”

She nodded before letting her hand go from your breast to in between your legs. Alexia pressed her palm flatly on your core. “Here.”

You bit your lip, unsure of what to feel. Though you didn’t know of the details, you already knew the concept of sexual intimacy. Of course, what you knew was that it was dirty, impure, and sinful. But with Alexia, you just couldn't fathom how it could possibly be a bad thing. How could something so tender, born out of love and passion, ever be wrong? It felt as though the very idea defied everything you had been taught.

“We don’t have to…” Alexia said as she saw the hesitation in your face.

You quickly shook your head and cupped her face with your hands. “No,” you said as you looked deep into her eyes. “I think I’m ready.”

Alexia smiled warmly, her eyes sparkling as she did, sending butterflies to your stomach. You smiled back. “If I were to do it,” you said softly. “I’d want it to be with you.”

Those words warmed Alexia from the inside. She moved back up to capture your lips in a tender kiss before sitting up. She cautiously held your waistband, pulling off your skirt as you lifted your hips to make it easier for her to remove them. Alexia nearly moaned at the sight of your pure, white underwear absolutely drenched at the crotch with your own nectar. She felt a chuckle bubble up.

You grew shy. “W-what?”

Alexia shook her head. “You’re so beautiful, my angel.” Alexia said in a low voice, admiring your body. “How did I get so lucky to have an angel laid bare before me?"

Your cheeks grew crimson with Alexia’s words and with the way she stared at you, taking in your entirety. She ran a hand through the smooth of your hips and up to the curve of your waist before leaning in again to capture your lips. As she pulled away, she locked eyes with you. “Monjita, you can tell me to stop any time, okay?”

You nodded, feeling incredibly full of trust for Alexia. There was not a single doubt or hesitation in your mind at that moment.

Alexia sat back up before placing both thumbs underneath the side of your underwear, slowly pulling the fabric off of you.

“God,” Alexia whispered under her breath as she saw your slick stick to the fabric, forming a stretched line before breaking. You were utterly soaked, and it was all for her. Pride surged through her veins, mixing with a deep, insatiable hunger.

Growing shy, you pressed your legs together, feeling vulnerable under the intensity of her stare. Alexia let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head as her warm hands gently coaxed your legs apart again. “No hiding, angel,” she murmured, her tone coaxing yet commanding. “Let me see all of you.”

Alexia was so gentle with you. Her touch was tender, almost reverent. She kissed her way across your skin, her lips a soft prayer as they met every curve and hollow, easing you into the rhythm of her care. Her mouth lingered on yours in a final, lingering kiss before she began her descent, leaving a trail of warmth as she made her way down to your core.

When her head settled between your thighs, your heart hammered against your ribs. The sensation of her warm breath against your bare skin sent a shiver up your spine.

Slowly, the Catalan spread you with her hands and parted her mouth before capturing your clit with her mouth. You gasped, putting a hand on her head. “Alexia! That’s dirty!”

She paused only for a moment, lifting her gaze to meet yours with a soft smile. “No part of an angel could ever be dirty,” she murmured, her voice a soothing promise, before dipping back down to continue her devotion.

Your hands tangled in Alexia's hair, gripping gently as her tongue lapped up your core, savoring every drop of your wetness. Her movements were unhurried, deliberate as if committing the taste of you to memory.

Alexia nearly chuckled at the memory of the nuns telling all of you about how to never waste food — not a single grain of rice, not a single drop of honey. Alexia smirked at the thought. She’d taken that lesson to heart, but now, she applied it differently—making sure not a single bit of your sweetness went untasted. Not a single drop of it was wasted.

The sensation of Alexia eating you out was something you’d never felt before. It was exciting and intense. With every flick of Alexia’s tongue, you could feel yourself unravel more and more.

Her tongue would move up and down your entire length before flicking against your clit quickly, causing you to grip the sheets as you clenched your body to the sensation. You loved it when Alexia wrapped her mouth against you, sucking you in a consistent and steady pattern. It sent a shudder of pleasure through your body as your lower stomach warmed.

“Oh God!” You cried out loud, making Alexia chuckle against your core at the irony. “Oh my god! Alexia, don’t stop.”

Alexia paused to shush you. She loved hearing you get so riled up by her but the last thing she needed was for people outside to hear you. After all, it was only afternoon.

Alexia couldn’t resist you, wanting to press her fingers inside you and feel your tightness around her but she knew she had to warm you up, which she didn’t mind. She loved your taste, loved the way your hips pressed up against the warmth of her mouth.

Slowly, she moved her mouth to your opening before slowly sticking her tongue inside you. The warm sensation of her tongue sent an electrifying jolt through your body as it pushed inside of you. You nearly shouted at the overwhelming feeling but your hand went to your mouth, muffling your own moans.

Pleased by your reaction, Alexia bobbed her head to thrust her pointed tongue inside you. Each deliberate motion was paired with the subtle brush of her nose against your clit, an added spark that made your head spin. The dual sensation was intoxicating, a feeling you didn't even know could be possible.

Alexia’s devotion was evident in every motion, her focus unwavering as though she were worshiping you with her tongue. To falter, even for a moment, felt unthinkable to her —not when she was blessed to have you, her angel, unraveling beneath her.

Alexia lifted her head up to look at you from below. “Angel, I’m going to put a finger inside of you.” She said with a low and reverent voice. “If it hurts, let me know, okay?”

All hesitation and apprehension was gone at this point as you eagerly nodded. “Yes, please, yes.”

A soft chuckle escaped her lips, laced with affection. She found your eagerness both cute and sexy. Returning her attention back to your clip, she enveloped her mouth around your clit again to form a steady suction, just to make sure you were sufficiently wet and prepared.

Soon, she carefully took her finger and teased your opening with it, taking her time to soak the finger with your juices. Once she was covered with your slick, she cautiously pressed it against your opening.

Your back arched at the slow intrusion; it felt new and overwhelming. A soft wince escaped your mouth. Alexia paused and lifted her head. “Breathe, angel," she soothed. "Relax, baby. It's just me."

With a deep exhale, you felt your muscles loosen, allowing her to press further inside. The stretch was unfamiliar but not unpleasant, and when her finger was finally fully inside of you, a soft moan escaped your lips. Alexia smiled. “Good girl.”

You hummed as you felt your eyes shut close, savoring the pleasure. Alexia took this as a sign to start thrusting. She put her mouth back on your clit as she slowly pumped her finger in and out of you, feeling you tight around her.

For Alexia, this moment was more than just sexual passion; it was communion.

Being your first filled her with a profound sense of warmth and connection. With each gasp and shiver that escaped you, she felt her heart flutter. You had her entirely, completely, and Alexia wouldn't have it any other way. She didn't mind that you had her wrapped around your finger.

She wanted to be yours anyway.

Alexia increased the speed, carefully pressing against your sensitive spot with every thrust inwards. The combination of her mouth and fingers was driving you insane, struggling to keep your moans from slipping out of the hand you pressed against your mouth.

As the pleasure intensified, you cried out, removing a hand from your mouth. “Alexia, you have to move away.” The words escaped your mouth in a rush. “I think I’m gonna pee.”

Alexia chuckled, fully knowing what you meant. She took it as a sign to move faster and harder against you, pressing a tongue against your throbbing clit. “A-Alexia, I’m serious, uh.”

Your concern soon dissipated as you felt yourself clench around her fingers. Your knuckles grew white as you gripped the sheet with your hands, feeling the intensity build up.

And with a loud cry of Alexia’s name, you came undone, breathing heavily as you felt the pleasure make waves through your entire body. Alexia helped you ride out your orgasm before pulling away, wiping her soaked hand on her shorts before moving to your side to cuddle up to you, spooning you.

You smiled and let a chuckle out as you tried to catch your breath, absolutely consumed by the feeling. You turned around so that you’d be facing Alexia, looking into her eyes.

“That was…” You smiled breathlessly. “Alexia, I think I…”

She smiled as you paused. She knew what you wanted to say but she understood your hesitation, knowing you might not have wanted to say it after the heat of it all. She reached out to you, tucking a hair behind your ear before pressing her lips on your forehead. “I know, monjita.” She whispered.

You moved closer to her, resting a head on her shoulders as you wrapped a hand around her side. She felt extremely warm against you.

“Hmm…” Alexia hummed thoughtfully.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing,” She said before teasing you. “I just found it funny how you thought you had to pee.”

You playfully smacked her arm. “Don’t tease me! I’m a virgin, okay?”

Alexia laughed as she shook her head. “Not anymore, angel.” She beamed with pride as she snuggled you closer to her. You rolled your eyes and chuckled before nuzzling your face in her chest.

You wanted to stay like that forever, wrapped around each other, feeling each other’s warmth, laughing at each other’s jokes. It felt so addicting just being this close to each other.

You knew you had to get up soon, actually have a shower and get dressed to go for dinner. But for now, you just wanted to fantasize about being completely alone with Alexia, with no worries or fear. Just the two of you, free to love and make love and kiss and be yourselves.

We have to get out of this school.

It was as if the heavens heard your prayers because you were getting a chance to leave the school.

Well, at least for the weekend.

Alexia and the rest of the football team were gearing up to have their first away game against a nearby girl’s school. All the girls from the football team were beyond excited to spend the weekend outside the confines of the boarding school.

While the trip was solely for the football team, Sister Catherine requested that you accompany the team. She said it was just because she wanted to show you appreciation for all that you did for the dorm but they weren’t so subtle about making sure you would keep an eye on Alexia, as if she was some problematic student.

You didn’t mind though, because it just felt like a free trip with the girl you liked.

So, after you and Ingrid gave your respective interim replacements as Dorm Heads a short orientation on things to do and expect, you were both gushing to each other about the trip, excited to see what the outside world has to offer.

“I feel more excited about this than when we took that long trip to see the cloistered nuns,” Ingrid recalled. “All we did then was take a useless three-hour bus ride to pray and eat stale cookies. Now, we get to actually go outside and enjoy the outside world.”

You chirped. “I know! Sister Catherine said we’ll all get a budget for when we have a free day out in the nearby town.” You sighed at the thought. “Can you believe that? We get to taste outside food and buy stuff for ourselves.”

Ingrid smiled widely, feeling warm at the sight of your face glowing with happiness. You two were quite close before but you never bothered to show this much emotion to her before; you were far more reserved and guarded. Now, you seemed carefree, younger too.

“You seem really happy lately,” The Norwegian said as she nodded approvingly. “I’m so glad to see more of this side of you.”

You blushed, feeling vulnerable at the comment. “Thanks. You seem happy too, Ingrid.”

She nodded and you locked eyes in quiet contentment before you two started joyfully chatting again, beyond excited to get out of this place even for just a few days.

You were beyond annoyed when you found out that you would be sharing a room with Sister Catherine instead of Alexia for your trip.

The nuns explained that all the athletes would be staying together in bigger rooms of five while the nuns get bigger rooms meant for faculty. (Apparently, the sisters thought it would be a good idea to have them bond with each other the night before the match.)

That meant you had to either dorm with the moody Sister Jude or the more relaxed Sister Catherine. You opted for the latter.

So much for looking forward to doing it on a new bed, you thought.

Alexia laughed when you told her the news which made you frown. She cooed as she summoned you over to her bed where she was sitting. “C’mon, don’t give me the sour face. It’s just kinda funny…”

You pouted feigning annoyance as you stood in front of her. “So, you’d rather stay with four of your teammates instead of with me?”

She put her hands around your waist, before lowering you down to straddle her on the lap. “Monjita, of course, I wanted to be rooming with you but I kinda expected this to happen.”

She planted a soft kiss on your chin. “At least we’d have a whole day to ourselves.” She said before planting another kiss on your neck and then your collarbones. “We can pretend to be a normal couple for a day — go to a farmer's market, hold hands, kiss in public.”

You hummed. “You do know we still have to wear our school shirts and the school sweatpants," you reminded. "Nothing a normal couple would wear."

Her chuckle vibrated against your skin as she kissed along your neck. “We can just wear a huge jacket over it,” she suggested. “Pretend we’re girlfriends who like to match clothes.”

“Hmm… girlfriends…” You whispered, letting the word hand in the air.

Neither of you had explicitly labeled what you had, and it had never seemed to matter. You thought Alexia wasn’t the type to care about having a label either, well, until now.

Alexia hummed back and pressed a kiss on your jawline. “Yes, does that sound great?”

You smiled before lifting her head up with your hands. “Sounds good to me,” you responded before pressing your lips against hers.

After a long bus ride, where you were forced to be beside Sister Catherine, you begrudgingly took your stuff to your shared room, hating having to stay in a totally separate building from your girlfriend.

Sister Catherine gushed about how lucky you were to be in a room with just her, a luxury not afforded to the athletes who had to be bunked together in groups. But really, you would have preferred to be with them instead of with the junior nun.

You liked Sister Catherine; she was nice and clean. She certainly was one of the more chill and laid-back nuns. Sometimes, she made you laugh with her corny jokes. She was certainly your favorite among the sisters.

But she was no Alexia Putellas.

Alexia could instantly see the sour expression on your face when she met you for dinner out with the others. She swiftly ran up to you. “Angel, why the long face?”

She linked her arm with yours as you two walked side-by-side. The entire team was heading to a nearby fast food joint, buzzing with excitement. It had been ages since any of you had indulged in greasy, guilt-laden junk food.

You leaned your head against Alexia’s shoulders as you walked. Alexia stiffened up with the sudden public display of affection but remembered that you were with the more junior nuns who were incredibly way more chill and also, trusted you with their lives.

“I missed you,” you murmured softly. “It’s the first time since you came to Santa Eulalia that we won’t be spending the night together.”

Alexia let out a quiet sigh. “I know,” she said, her tone gentle. “But hey, at least on Sunday, we can do whatever we want after mass.” She nudged you slightly. “Do you have anything in mind?”

You shook your head, a wistful smile tugging at your lips. “No plans. I just want to wander aimlessly with you… pretend we’re an ordinary couple in the city.”

Alexia chuckled. “I’d really love that, monjita.”

You sighed again, your voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Don’t know how I’ll sleep without my goodnight kiss.”

She laughed softly. “You seemed to manage just fine before we started dating,” she teased, giving you a knowing look. “You’ll survive.”

You pouted. “I doubt that.”

Alexia tilted her head, pretending to ponder. Then she leaned closer and dropped her voice so only you could hear. “How about this? Meet me outside your dorm around 11 pm, when everyone’s asleep. I’ll sneak over and give you that kiss.”

You hesitated, your brows knitting together. “Don’t you need a good night’s rest to play well tomorrow?”

She smirked, her trademark confidence shining through. “We’re playing against another boarding school, not an actual football club. I could run circles around those girls in my sleep.”

You rolled your eyes at her cockiness, though you couldn’t deny how much you adored it. Alexia’s self-assurance was always backed by her skill. She had every right to be with the way she played. “Okay, how else can I say no to a good night kiss?”

When you finally reached the fast food restaurant, the team erupted with excitement, clamoring over the menu and debating what to order.

The greasy, salty aroma filled the air, a nostalgic comfort after years of the same slop the kitchen always prepared. You joined in, laughing and indulging along with everyone else, savoring every bite.

But at the back of your mind, all you could think about was kissing Alexia later. No french fries or ice cream sundae tasted better than your girlfriend’s lips

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest once the clock struck 10. For the next hour, you spent your time silently brushing your hair and spritzing on a bit of perfume, moving quietly as the nun was fast asleep.

Thank god for food coma, you thought as you remembered Sister Catherine and Sister Jude indulging in a huge serving of fries and burgers. For a moment, everyone had forgotten that gluttony was a sin.

By 10:55 pm, you were already tiptoeing out of your shared room, slipping silently into the hallway. The faculty dormitory where you stayed was on the far side of the building, separate from the student athletes’ quarters. You couldn’t help but wonder how Alexia planned to sneak all the way here without getting caught.

Soon, you could see the familiar shadow of your girlfriend climbing up the stairs adjacent to your room. You beamed as soon as you saw her. She pressed a finger against her mouth, telling you to remain quiet before gesturing for you to follow.

Biting your lip, you glanced back at your dorm door one last time before slipping away with her. Alexia took your hand, her grip warm and steady, as the two of you moved through the dimly lit building. She led the way with quiet confidence, navigating the halls as if she were a seasoned spy.

You let her lead the way and ultimately, you both ended up in the basement which had a huge room converted into a chapel.

“You could have just given me a kiss right outside my door,” You teased as you turned toward the Catalan who was boarding the wooden door of the room behind her.

Without hesitation, Alexia grabbed your waist and pinned you against the door, capturing your lips with hers. She pulled away after a minute of liplocking. “Wanted to do more than just a good night kiss.”

Her lips quickly met your again in a passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around her as you felt yourself melt in her kiss, ready to come undone once again under your girlfriend’s touch.

It felt vaguely nostalgic to be kissing in a chapel again but this time, her kisses were more intense and passionate than the first kiss you had shared.

Alexia didn’t take long to slip the straps of your nightgown off of your shoulders, letting the soft fabric slip off your skin and fall to the floor. Your small yelp was muffled by Alexia’s lips as you felt yourself suddenly get exposed.

You felt so vulnerable and naked being pressed between the wooden door and your girlfriend, clad in just your white undies. Alexia’s hands were suddenly gripping your waist as she deepened the kiss.

The opportunity to catch your breath came when your girlfriend eagerly moved her mouth to your neck and down to your collarbones. You held on tightly to her as continued to hungrily nibble at your skin.

Alexia was more eager than she ever was. It felt exciting to her, being this intimate outside the confines of your tiny dorm room. She knew you two weren’t getting caught but the possibility of it made her heart beat faster against her chest as she felt her growing arousal.

“A-Alexia, are you sure we won’t be caught?” You said with some hesitation. Once your girlfriend had moved her mouth to your neck, her head no longer obstructed the sight of the altar staring right at you. “We’d be in big trouble if we get caught.”

Alexia pulled away for a second before looking around. “Monjita, no one’s gonna catch us.” She responded. “Why don’t I make you feel better so I can distract you from your worries, hmm?”

It didn’t take long to convince you and before you knew it, Alexia had slipped off your underwear and carried you over to the pews.

Alexia had you sitting on the edge of the seat with one foot perched on the seat beside your body and the other flat on the floor, feeling the cold wood on your bare butt as she kneeled in front of you, eating you out.

You moaned out loud as you felt your girlfriend’s skilled tongue draw circles around your clit, causing your legs to shake. “Oh my god, that feels so good.”

Alexia continued to eat you out, hungry for the taste of your juices. She loved hearing moans and whimpers exit your mouth as she continuously traced shapes with her tongue on to your core.

Your hips bucked as you felt her tongue graze against the small part of your clit, feeling extremely sensitive against the warm sensation of her mouth.

Your arms held on to the back support of the wooden pew as you arched your body against Alexia’s mouth. “Alexia, I’m cumming.” You moaned out.

Alexia smiled before slowly lifting her head up from your core. Before protests could even escape your mouth, Alexia had moved up to capture your lips again, tasting yourself on her mouth.

She pulled away, hazel eyes scanning your face. “I wanna touch you from behind. Is that good, angel?”

You blinked, clueless as to what Alexia meant by that. Being a virgin from a Catholic boarding school meant Alexia always had to introduce you to new things, new positions — stuff you had never even imagined. But, you just trusted Alexia to know what’s best and how to make you feel good.

You bit your lip and nodded, causing your girlfriend to smile widely before helping you up from your position.

Alexia delicately guided you, slowly instructing you to lean over the back support of the pew in front of you. You felt slightly awkward bent over like that, breasts hanging as you held onto the seat in front you. Alexia kept your butt lifted high, rubbing it slightly.

She cursed under her breath, incredibly aroused at the sight of you bent over like that for her, so submissive and vulnerable under her touch. She felt like she was corrupting you but this time, she didn’t feel so guilty. How could she when you were bent over so obediently, so willingly in front of her?

“Tell me if you feel uncomfortable and we can stop,” she ordered. “Okay, angel?”

You nodded but felt a sudden slap against your butt, not too hard to give you pain but hard enough to surprise you.

Alexia tutted her tongue. “Use your words, angel.” She ordered. “I need you to be more vocal when I can’t see your face, okay?”

“Y-yes, Alexia.” You responded as you felt your own slick trickle down your leg. Something about Alexia being dominant and strict turned you on even more.

Your eyes fluttered shut and a gasp escaped your lips as you felt two fingers enter you. It was a completely different sensation from being on your back; it felt tighter.

“God, angel, you’re so tight.” Alexia uttered between grit teeth. “You’re taking me in so well.”

She held onto your hips to steady you before she began pushing in and out of you at a steady pace. You moaned every time you felt your girlfriend’s fingers enter you since your position made it easier for her to reach your g-spot with every single thrust.

Alexia was growing more and more turned on as she fucked you from behind, turned on not only by the feeling of you tight around her fingers but also the environment. It felt forbidden, it felt wrong, which made it all the more better.

Alexia leaned over, keeping one hand inside you and the other snaking its way to your chest. Her strong hands held you up, which gave you a better angle to see the sacred imagery in front of you. You felt guilty doing what you were doing in the position you were in but the guilt didn’t linger long as the sensation of your girlfriend pounding behind you had dissipated whatever thought remained in your brain. All you could focus on was the sweet sensation of her fingers.

You cried out loud as you felt Alexia push more into you, fingers curling inwards with every thrust. Alexia smirked at the sound of your moans — a series of raggedy sounds and animalistic grunts. You could no longer control your voice but Alexia didn’t seem to mind.

“You’re all mine, angel.” Alexia grunted as she continued to thrust into you. “Say you’re mine.”

You moaned, finding it too difficult to get her name out as you were over the edge. “A…ale—”

SLAP.

You grunted at the sting of your girlfriend’s hands against your butt. It definitely hurt but something about it felt so satisfying. “Try again, angel.”

You took a deep inhale, trying not to get too distracted by Alexia’s consistent fingering. “I’m yours, Alexia,” you grunted out. “I’m all yours.”

Alexia felt the pride and warmth spread through her body and fuel her up to keep fucking you until you were a disheveled mess.

It didn’t take long until you were slowly feeling that familiar build up again, feeling yourself clench and tighten as your girlfriend continued to thrust into you. You moaned out loudly, causing Alexia to hush you.

“Oh my,” you blubbered out as you felt the pleasure reach its peak. “Oh my god!”

With that, you came undone, feeling yourself clench around your girlfriend a couple times as the pleasure rippled across your body. You would have fallen limp, draped on the church pew, if Alexia hadn’t lifted you back up to prop you on her lap as she sat down.

You wrapped your arms around Alexia and kissed her lips, softly as you were still breathless. “Alexia, you were way too naughty this time. I swear.”

Alexia teasingly tutted her tongue. “It’s not good to swear inside a chapel.”

You playfully smacked her on her forearm, earning a chuckle from her. “Great, now, I’d have to go back to my room all hot and bothered.” You complained.

Alexia raised an eyebrow at you. “Who said we were going back already?” She smirked as her hand found its way back in between your legs again.

You pouted and closed your legs tightly. “No more, Ale, I’m tired out.” You complained. “Plus, you have a game tomorrow. You need to get some rest.”

She frowned. “Don’t you think I need motivation for it?”

You rolled your eyes, feeling the soreness in between your legs already, and as you were about to reprimand your girlfriend for being too horny and greedy, you got an idea.

“Okay, we can have more fun,” you said but quickly pushed your girlfriend away as she was about to lean in. “But, I want to be the one to pleasure you this time.”

Alexia’s lips curled into a smile. “Angel, pleasuring you pleasures me, come on —” You stopped her again from leaning in.

“It’s either you let me or we go back up.” You said. “Come on, Ale. I wanna know what it feels like too… I wanna taste you.”

Alexia bit her lips as she scanned your eyes, seeing nothing but genuine curiosity and eagerness.

She sighed. “Okay fine, but don’t be disappointed if you don’t make me cum,” she warned. “It’s your first time and… it can be a lot to handle.”

The nerves kicked in as Alexia said it but you figured you might as well try now. You carefully got on your knees, feeling the coolness of the tiles against your legs.

You bit your lip as you slowly untied Alexia’s pajama pant strings before removing it from her body, together with her underwear. It wasn’t the first time that you’ve seen Alexia’s bottom half naked but it certainly felt different being within such close proximity to it. It felt so hot being on your knees in front of her nakedness. Alexia decided to add fuel to fire, lifting her top up to bite onto the hem to expose her defined stomach.

Eagerly, your hands made their way to her legs, separating them so that Alexia would be completely exposed to you. Her folds glistened under the dim lights, practically shining in its wetness. You nervously looked at Alexia’s core, running a steady finger through it just to get familiar to the touch.

Alexia inhaled sharply as your fingers stopped just against her clip, tentatively rubbing up and down then in circles. She watched you look at her pussy, almost calculating, as you moved your fingers through it.

After a few minutes of trying to rub against Alexia’s core, you decided to use your fingers to further spread her apart, nervously gulping before you leaned forward and captured her clit with your mouth. You mimicked Alexia’s movements whenever it was her who was eating you out, trying out a suction around her clit before ultimately licking it in various strokes.

Alexia bit more into the fabric of her shirt as she felt you graze against her swollen clit, seemingly knowing exactly what to do with it.

You looked up at her, lifting your head up to pause. “Alexia,” you started as you locked eyes with her. “Let me hear you, please.”

How could she resist you with your wide-eyed gaze, naked and vulnerable on your knees as you desperately tried to pleasure her?

Alexia nodded, letting the fabric of her shirt free from her mouth.

You eagerly put your mouth back on her, trying to recreate all the things she did with you. Soon enough, a series of moans left your girlfriend's lips. First, tentative and hesitant, low and quiet. But as you grew more and more accustomed to eating her out, Alexia’s moans grew louder and more delicate.

It was the first time you were hearing Alexia moan like that; you were accustomed to her occasional moans and grunts whenever she topped you but this was something new and something you definitely could get used to.

You felt Alexia’s hands find their way to the side of your head as she moved her hips up to grind against your mouth. Taking it as a good sign that she was close to an orgasm, you continued to suck at her clit with a faster yet steady pace.

How is she doing this on her first try, Alexia thought. She’s insane.

Aleia started to feel her climax approaching, shutting her eyes and throwing her head back. You continued fucking Alexia with your mouth and soon enough, she was twitching underneath you, mouth opened with no words or sounds escaping them. Pleasure had fully consumed her body.

You slowly looked up, watching your girlfriend’s chest rise and fall as she tried to catch her breath. After a few breaths, she looked down on you. “Where’d you learn that?”

You chuckled at her reaction. “Learned from the best.”

Alexia laughed, shaking her head before guiding you back up and propping you back on your lap. She gave you another soft kiss on the lips as she held you close.

“Thanks for that angel,” she smiled as her hazel eyes gazed into yours. “I felt like I was in heaven.”

Your cheeks grew red from the compliment, too flustered to say that that’s what she made you feel every single time you’ve been intimate before.

Alexia sighed, contentedly. “I’m so ready to win tomorrow.” She smiled at you. “Might be greedy of me considering I already won tonight.”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes at your girlfriend’s teasing. Though, you were sure she wasn’t completely joking then. Her eyes were filled with passion and energy; you were certain she’d channel all of that on the pitch.

You felt like you were floating after that night with Alexia at the basement chapel. It must have done the same to Alexia because she played on that field so effortlessly, moving through the opponents flawlessly.

You cheered from the stands, the only one from your school aside from the benched players cheering for your school.

Alexia scored a beautiful goal. Then, did a couple wonderful assists. Before you knew it, the team had won 5-0.

You screamed with joy, running onto the pitch as soon as the team huddle broke apart. Your heart soared as you wrapped your arms around Alexia, pulling her into a tight hug. Every fiber of your being wanted to kiss her, to celebrate this moment with her in the most intimate way, but you knew better. A kiss would send you straight back to the institute and to Sister Philomena’s office.

To not seem suspicious, you also ran to Ingrid to give her a congratulatory hug, complimenting her defending skills.

Before you could linger too long, Sister Ruth, the team’s coach, called the players over for another quick meeting before they headed to the showers. As Alexia turned to follow her teammates, she glanced back at you, subtly gesturing and mouthing, common room.

You nodded, understanding immediately, and made your way toward the dorm building where Alexia and the rest of the team were staying. But as you walked, you realized that you had no idea where you were going. The campus was unfamiliar, and you quickly found yourself looking around, lost and more than a little clueless.

A voice cut through your thoughts, smooth and teasing. “Are you lost, pretty girl?”

You turned to see the source of the voice — a girl with brown hair, warm brown eyes, and freckles dusting her cheeks. Your eyes quickly flickered to her shirt, noticing that she was one of the players from the home team.

“Ah, yeah…” You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “My best friend told me to meet her at the common room in the dorm building where our team is staying in, but, uh… I have no idea how to get there.”

The girl tilted her head, biting her lip slightly as she watched you. Her eyes lingered on your lips a second longer than necessary. “Well, lucky for you, I happen to live in those dorms. I can walk you there if you’d like.”

You perked up, completely oblivious to the way she was checking you out. The thought didn’t even cross your mind—you were only ever hyperaware of flirtation when it came from Alexia.

“Really? That would be amazing!” you said, your face lighting up with gratitude. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

Her lips curled up into a smirk. “Ona,” she replied, her voice a tad deep and smooth as silk.

As Ona walked you towards the common room, you learned a lot about her. She was a couple years younger than you were and had stayed in this academy for a while but she was planning on moving out to train with a bigger school that was more geared towards sports.

“You must be really good then,” you nodded.

Ona chuckled. “Well, I don’t know if I could say that after my team lost five-nil.”

You shyly nodded. “Don’t be too hard on yourself,” you comforted. “Alexia was just really on fire today and I didn’t anticipate her to go as hard as she did today.”

Ona nodded, watching your expression carefully. “Alexia… uh, the girl with the number 11?” She asked. “She’s on another level. I’d expect to see the likes of her in La Masia or some other football academy, not in a nun school — no offense.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Yeah… she’s something else,” you said, warmth spreading through your chest at the mention of Alexia. “She deserves better training, that’s for sure.”

Ona was quick to notice the shift in your voice, raising her eyebrows. “Wait, so is she your —” She let the question hang.

Your breath hitched but you tried not to be so obviously taken aback. “My best friend?” You quickly added. “Yeah, she is.”

The brunette laughed, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “You do know we’re a secular-run school now, right?”

You blinked, tilting your head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Ona chuckled, her tone light. “I mean, technically we’re still a Catholic school, but we’re not as strict as you guys. Well, at least, ever since the nuns left us,” she explained. “So, everyone here is pretty open-minded.”

You bit your lip, knowing fully well what she was hinting at but you just had no clue what to say. You remained guarded; you still weren’t sure if she was to be trusted.

Ona studied your silence with curiosity before raising an eyebrow. “Wait, don’t tell me you’re a homophobe—”

“No! No!” you blurted out, your hands shooting up in defense. “I—I don’t have a problem with that. Gay people are… they’re great. The best, actually. But Alexia, she’s just a—”

Ona burst out laughing, cutting off your rambling with her genuine amusement. “Okay, okay, chill,” she said, shaking her head as if to put you out of your misery. She pushed open a large wooden door, revealing the bustling common room where a few of her teammates were hanging out. “Come on in.”

The student common room in this school was a stark contrast to the common room in your boarding school. Everyone was chattering loudly. A bunch of the other girls had already taken off their shirts, hanging around in their sports bras. The place wasn’t untidy but it certainly appeared a bit more cluttered with photos tacked all over the bulletin board and random trinkets all over the shelves.

A couple girls approached Ona, taking notice of you, still dressed in your school uniform. A shorter girl with light-colored eyes smiled.

“Ona, don’t tell me you’ve called dibs already,” she teased Ona, eyes flickering to your school emblem embroidered on your button up. “On the enemy too.”

Ona chuckled. “Shut up, Pina. She’s just here to hang out until her team comes over.” She told the shorter girl. “Be nice cause we want them to think we’re cool.”

Pina rolled her eyes. “They’re never gonna think we’re cool after they beat us 5-nil.”

“That’s just cause the captains and our goalkeeper are all sick,” A shorter girl with curly hair said before taking a sip of her jug. “We would have crushed them if we hadn’t gone to that sushi place just a few days back.”

“And who exactly recommended that sushi place, Vicky?” Pina said as she stared pointedly at the shorter girl.

Vicky shrugged. “I didn’t hear you complaining when you pounded back that rack of 5 euro sashimi.”

You chuckled at the banter, feeling a little more at ease. Without warning, Ona slipped an arm around your shoulders, her touch light yet deliberate, and began guiding you toward the sofas at the far end of the room. “Yeah, let’s get away from those two before they give you a headache,” she said with a soft laugh, her voice low and warm. “Want a drink?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. What do you have?” you asked, awkwardly perching on the edge of a worn leather couch positioned beside a refrigerator cluttered with magnets and Polaroid photos.

Ona hummed thoughtfully as she opened the fridge. “Let’s see… we’ve got soda, orange juice, beer—and some kombucha that Aitana’s been brewing. Pretty sure that’s for her stomach problems, though. Oh, and chocolate milk.”

You blinked, taken aback by the casual mention of beer in a boarding school. “Beer?”

“Beer it is,” Ona said with a playful grin, completely misinterpreting your surprise as enthusiasm. She grabbed a can and handed it to you. “Never would’ve pegged a girl from a nun school to be a beer drinker, but here you go.”

You took it cautiously, unsure of how to politely decline. “Uh… thanks.” You said as you carefully ran your fingers through the rim of the can.

Ona seemed to catch your reluctance as she plopped down beside you, her thigh brushing against yours. “Oh, my bad. Where are my manners?” she said, reaching over to take the can back. With a deft motion, she cracked it open, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. “Here you go, pretty.”

You smiled nervously and took a small sip. The bitter taste hit you immediately, and your face scrunched up in response, unable to hide disgust.

Ona noticed and laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Not a fan of beer, huh?”

You shook your head, feeling a little embarrassed.

“No worries, I’ve got you,” she said, effortlessly taking the can from your hands. “I’ll finish this, and I’ll grab you some water. Sounds good?”

You nodded, grateful. Ona leaned back against the couch, bringing the can to her lips. She paused deliberately, taking a slow sip from the same spot you had. Her gaze flickered toward you, a playful glint in her eyes. It was obvious she was trying to flirt, but the meaning went right over your head. All you could think was how friendly and helpful she was.

As she stood to grab you some water, she looked over to you. “So, how’s nun school treating you?” She asked before handing you a glass of chilled water. “You must have stories to tell.”

You chuckled. “Well, it’s… okay,” you said cautiously, tucking a hair behind your ear. “I mean, I’ve been there all my life so it’s all I’ve ever known really.”

Ona’s eyes widened. “You’ve been in nun school since you were a kid?” She said with an incredulous tone. “I go to this school and I already feel crazy sometimes. I can’t imagine how I’d survive your school.”

You told Ona more about your life at Santa Eulalia, and just how strict it was — the curfew, the rules on leaving the premises, the uniform rules, the rules on visitation, and how rare it was that you got to see your family.

“And our common rooms have to be pristine,” you shared. “We can only have decorations if it’s related to Christianity. So, crosses and doves — all that.”

Ona shook her head. “No way.”

You nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, and no music either, unless it’s spiritual or instrumental — like piano or violins,” you explained. “Some of the girls tried sneaking in iPods with instrumental versions of popular songs, but the sisters caught on and banned those too.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ona said, looking genuinely horrified. With a playful glint in her eye, she reached over, taking your half-empty glass of water and replacing it with her can of beer. “Okay, I’ve changed my mind. You need to drink this. Live a little.”

You shook your head, laughing at her antics. “I’m fine, really,” you said, but there was an undeniable warmth in her playful insistence.

“So, what changed?” Ona asked, leaning closer, her curiosity clear. “You said you didn’t think of it as strict and overbearing until recently. What happened?”

Well, I met Alexia, you thought but kept to yourself.

Before you could come up with an answer, the sound of excited greetings filled the room. Your heart leapt as your teammates entered the common area, and your eyes immediately found the familiar sight of your girlfriend among them. She looked like she had just taken a bath, hair down and damp, and changed into a fresh set of clothes.

Your lips curled into a smile.

But Alexia’s expression was far less cheerful. Her brows knitted together as her gaze landed on you sitting so close to Ona. Her eyes flickered to the girl’s arm stretched across the back of the sofa, inches from your shoulder, and then to the can of beer in your hand.

Alexia’s jaw tightened. She was never the jealous type, but something about the way Ona looked at you — smug and a little too comfortable — set her on edge. She figured she was just protective because of how sheltered and clueless you were.

She walked towards you and Ona. You both stood and Ona offered a hand to Alexia which Alexia reluctantly shook. “You played great,” she complimented your girlfriend, making you smile at the fact that Alexia was being appreciated.

Alexia nodded stoically. “Thanks,” she said before turning to you. “Monjita, what do you have there?”

You looked down to your hands and chuckled. “Oh! It’s beer,” you said shocked by the sight of it. “I tasted it but didn’t like it. You want it?”

You thrusted the can towards your girlfriend who took it reluctantly.

Ona smiled, “I’ve drunk most of it already while this pretty girl,” she wrapped an arm around you, “barely even had a sip.”

Alexia’s jaw clenched, annoyed by the shorter brunette. Why is she sharing a beer with this girl?

She set the can down on a nearby table. “Do you wanna go on a walk with me, monjita?”

You nodded enthusiastically as you trailed after Alexia, giving Ona a polite goodbye and thanks for her warm accommodations.

As you moved closer to Alexia, it was her turn to wrap an arm around you and throw a quick, snide look at Ona.

“I thought you guys would never come. Y'all were taking so long,” you told your girlfriend. “Thankfully, the other team was incredibly nice. Ona seems really cool too.”

“Yeah, real cool.” Her voice said, dripping with sarcasm.

You looked quizzically at your girlfriend but didn’t prod anymore. “You did so good, by the way.” You hummed as Alexia led you back to the room she was staying in with the other girls. “You played like a pro. It was insane.”

Alexia hummed as she shut the door behind you two. Just as you were about to part your lips to say something, Alexia’s lips crashed into yours, kissing you.

She pulled away and a smile finally appeared on her face. “I just had to do that to feel better,” she said.

“W-what?”

“That Ona girl was all over you,” Alexia said as she walked over to what seemed like her bed, grabbing the brush she left on top, unable to brush her hair earlier as she had rushed out of the showers to head to you. “It made me feel a bit jealous.”

You smirked as you walked up to her. You sat on top of Alexia’s lap and grabbed the brush from her, doing the brushing instead. Sure, given your position, you weren’t doing a great job at brushing but Alexia didn’t mind. She loved having you on top of her.

“Why would you be jealous, Ale?” You cooed. “You know I’m yours already.”

She huffed, feeling a tad insecure, which made her feel silly. She was the one who had just won and the one who had a beautiful girlfriend on her lap but she still felt uneasy.

What if she’s only with me because I’m convenient, the doubtful thought flickered in Alexia’s mind.

You noticed your girlfriend’s gloomy expression. You grabbed her face and forced her to look at you. Your eyes flickered through her face. “Ale, you know I only love you, right?”

“Hmm,” she smiled, all worries dissipating. “You love me?”

You smiled back before planting a kiss on her lips. “Yes, silly,” you said. “I love you so don’t be jealous anymore.”

Alexia leaned forward to catch another kiss from you. “I love you too, monjita.” She said warmly.

You continued to brush her hair as she held you close to her. Alexia sighed. “I just really worried about seeing that girl interested in you,” she said. “She seems like she’d be your type.”

You laughed loudly. “My type? Alexia Putellas, you’re my type.”

Your girlfriend looked at you with a pouty expression which you just chuckled at. “I didn’t even have a crush until you came along.” You reminded her. “How can I have a type who isn’t you?”

Alexia’s worries were eased. “Okay, okay,” she said. “Maybe I was just being ridiculous about it.”

Her eyes fluttered to your lips. “It wouldn't hurt if you kissed me to remind me again that I’m your type.”

You rolled your eyes but shifted your position so that you’d be straddling Alexia. You dropped the brush to your side before you leaned in to capture Alexia’s lips with yours.

Alexia’s hands hiked up your long skirt, pushing it up so that the long fabric wouldn’t be that in the way. She put her hands underneath the skirt and held your ass with both hands. You gasped against her mouth once you felt her squeeze them.

You continued to kiss your girlfriend deeply, parting your lips to let her slip her tongue inside you. You moaned as you grinded your hips against her lap.

The kiss was just starting to heat up when the doors suddenly creaked open. You two suddenly jumped from the bed, apart from each other.

You looked over to the door to see Maria and Ingrid, looking just as confused as startled as you were. You felt your heart pound against your chest as you quickly shook your head and held your hands up in defense.

“We… we were just…” you stammered, your hands flying up in defense. “I was helping Alexia brush her hair.”

Maria closed the door behind her, slowly shaking her head. “Uh-huh,” she murmured, clearly not buying a word. She turned back toward you and Alexia, her expression unreadable. Ingrid’s gaze darted between you two, her lips pressed in a thin line.

Feeling the silence stretch on, you blurted, “Alexia, she just had—”

“Monjita,” Alexia interrupted, shooting you a warning look.

You blinked, looking at Alexia then her two roommates, still confused. “W-what? Are you going to tell Sister—”

Ingrid stepped forward, raising a hand to cut you off. “Relax, darling,” she said calmly, though her tone was firm. “We’ve always known you two were… a thing. And no, we’re not going to tell anyone.”

You exhaled shakily, relief mixing with disbelief as you tried to process her words. “How did you…?” You trailed off, looking between Ingrid and Maria. “When did you…?”

You threw a look at Alexia who looked just as startled. Ingrid smiled at you. “You two weren’t exactly the most subtle,” she said before looking at Maria. “Well, to us, anyway.”

Alexia glanced at Ingrid and then Maria before it clicked inside her brain. “Oh!” She said. “You two are also—”

“Yep,” Maria confirmed with a nod, crossing her arms. “Since Ingrid moved to Santa Eulalia.”

It took you a moment longer to process, but when it clicked, the realization hit you like a ton of bricks. The two had always been inseparable, practically glued to each other’s side, but you’d chalked it up to just being teammates.

“Oh!”

Ingrid chuckled at your stunned expression. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you,” she said, stepping closer to take your hand reassuringly. “But we didn’t know if you’d… be okay with it. You know how it is.”

You nodded, still dazed.

“But I’m glad we can finally be open about this now,” Ingrid added with a warm smile before pulling you into a tight hug.

When she pulled away, her expression grew serious, her gaze shifting between you and Alexia. “Okay, now that the gushy part is over…” she began. “I need to scold you two.”

“Yeah,” Maria chimed in, rubbing the back of her neck. “Kissing with the door unlocked? Rookie move.”

Ingrid folded her arms, her tone sharpening. “Look, we’re happy for you, truly. But you two need to be more careful.”

Maria nodded in agreement, her voice quieter but equally firm. “Not everyone’s going to be as accepting as we are. You can’t even trust people who seem okay or cool. It’s not worth the risk.” She looked at Alexia. “Which is why we never told you, even if you reeked of gay.”

Ingrid laughed at her girlfriend’s comment as Alexia just shrugged and raised her eyebrows.

Ingrid sighed and looked back at you. “Just be careful, okay?” She hummed. “People can be cruel. Trust us… we know.”

You nodded cautiously. A growing anxiety filled you even though your friends had practically reassured you. You looked over to Alexia who looked just reassured.

Even if you got lucky now, with just Ingrid and Maria finding you, you know you had to be more careful later on.

You and Alexia agreed to keep the PDA on the low while you were around peers, taking a page out of Ingrid and Maria’s book wherein while they were always together, it would be hard to decipher they were a couple.

It was difficult for Alexia especially when everyone agreed to have a makeshift party after dinner in the common room with the other team. While most of the more conservative girls from your school opted out and chose to turn in early instead, a few decided to let loose and have fun with the girls from the hosting school.

Her annoyance primarily came from Ona constantly hovering around you, obviously taking an interest in you. You weren’t having much fun either, being apart from Alexia most of the time so you turned over early, using the excuse that Sister Catherine wouldn’t be pleased with you staying out too late.

Alexia watched Ona become deflated and annoyed as her attempts at flirtation had gone unappreciated, which just made Alexia feel in a better mood.

But as the night wore on, with everyone having fun and letting loose in the common room, Alexia just wanted to sneak over to your room again and just hold you. No sneaky business this time; she just missed a proper cuddle. But she knew there was no way that that was happening tonight.

Sighing deeply, she sat on the unoccupied couch after grabbing a beer, savoring the taste of it fully knowing it would take probably a year for her to taste alcohol again. To her dismay, Ona walked over to her, plopping beside her.

“So, tell me,” the shorter girl asked. “How’d you manage to bag the hottest girl in your school?”

Alexia’s jaw clenched, her expression unreadable as she brought her beer to her lips. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied coolly, her voice void of any emotion as she took a swig of her beer.

Ona chuckled knowingly. “Come on, it’s so obvious. You were practically glaring at us the entire time we were talking,” she teased. Her grin widened as she added, “That’s the only explanation I’m willing to accept. There’s no way someone like her wouldn’t be into me unless—well, unless she’s already taken.”

Alexia hummed, smirking. “Maybe she just doesn’t like you,” she shrugged before downing her beer. “She might just like someone taller and less full of herself, that’s all.”

Ona scoffed with a breathy chuckle, not offended but just amused at the passive-aggressive statement, as she watched Alexia stand up and walk over to Ingrid and Maria to join their group which was playing a silly drinking game.

At the moment, Alexia felt like it was such a mic drop moment but she was quick to regret downing that last beer, along with the other drinks she had after, the next morning when her head was pounding.

Her teammates basically had to drag her out of bed the next day to get dressed and attend the mass. Arriving at the chapel, they were forced to slink into the back row, earning a few stern glances from the sisters at the front.

Slouched in her seat, Alexia pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to ignore the hammering in her skull. But as the initial prayers began, her gaze wandered, drifting to the front row where you sat.

You were impossible to miss. The bright lights directed at the altar bounced against the wall, streaming onto you with a soft glow. Your hair was styled in a neat half-ponytail, and your pristine uniform was ironed perfectly. Alexia couldn’t help but stare, her heart skipping a beat at how angelic you looked.

She leaned back slightly, trying to mask her dazed expression, but her mind was far from the mass. Instead, it replayed the events of the last time you both were in this chapel. A rouge tint covered the Catalan’s cheeks as she smiled at the memory. How she would have loved to be beside you at that moment just to teasingly raise her eyebrows at you and watch you get flustered.

Alexia could barely pay attention to the mass, mind shifting from thinking about you to internally complaining about how painful her head felt. She wished she grabbed a bottle of water before rushing to the chapel to feel at least a bit less dehydrated.

She tried to appear less hungover and dehydrated when it was time for communion when she had to pass by the first row where you and the nuns were sitting. As she passed the first row, her eyes flicked to you again. She could feel Sister Jude’s sharp gaze on her and heard the nun mutter something under her breath about Alexia’s appearance — something about her “unironed shirt” and “unkempt hair.”

But Alexia didn’t care.

Her focus was entirely on you. Your eyes met hers for the briefest moment, and your cheeks flushed a soft pink as you quickly looked away. The sight of your bashful expression made her forget the ache in her head and the disapproving glares of the sisters.

If she could, she would have teased you right then and there — raised her eyebrows suggestively or whispered something cheeky just to see you flustered. But with Sister Jude’s watchful eyes on her, Alexia forced herself to keep moving, a small smirk tugging at her lips.

As she reached the altar, she thought to herself. They can glare at me all they want. None of it matters as long as she looks at me like that.

When the mass concluded, the nuns called everyone over to the courtyard to discuss the rules for the much-anticipated day out. The group shuffled into a loose circle, the excitement palpable despite the stern expressions of the sisters.

“And girls, remember,” Sister Ruth said in a firm voice. “You are wearing your school shirt with the school emblem. This means you carry the identity of the school with you so you must uphold the values of our beloved institution.”

The group nodded obediently, though you could sense the collective impatience bubbling beneath the surface.

Sister Jude stepped forward, her sharp eyes scanning the students. “Please pair up and ensure at least one of you has a watch to keep track of time. Anyone who arrives at the bus a minute later than the scheduled departure will receive an infraction. No exceptions.”

Sister Catherine went around handing out your maps and envelopes with your modest allowance.

“Okay, girls, pair up now and remember the watch thing.” Sister Catherine said after handing over the items to everyone.

You smiled shyly at Alexia who confidently walked over to you. All headaches and sores seemed to dissipate whenever you were around her.

“Well, hello, stranger.” She teased, biting her lip as she looked at you.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks, and you quickly glanced around to check if any of the nuns were paying attention. “Ale, don’t be too…” you trailed off, hoping she’d catch the warning in your tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh, swatting at her playfully when she tried to snake a hand around your waist. “You’re impossible,” you muttered under your breath, but the fondness in your voice was unmistakable.

Before the moment could linger, the nuns began organizing everyone into a line to board the bus. Alexia kept close to you, her arm brushing against yours as the group shuffled forward. Once you were seated, she wasted no time sprawling into her seat beside you, her long legs stretching slightly into the aisle.

You opened the map eagerly, your finger tracing the streets and landmarks marked in bold print. There was a red circle the nuns had drawn on to the map, which Sister Jude was firm on reminding everyone earlier that it was the limited parameters in which you all could roam around; they didn’t want anyone running farther than it.

“Oh, Ale, we should try this place,” you began, pointing to a gelato shop well within the confines of a parameter. “I’ve been craving a good gelato for ages now”

Alexia leaned closer, her chin nearly resting on your shoulder as she followed your finger. “Hmm, I don’t know,” she mused, using the red circle more as a go beyond this area sign. “That looks like it’s in nun territory. Too risky.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes as Alexia leaned closer to study the fine paper of the map spread across your lap. She hummed in thought, her finger grazing various spots before she pressed it firmly on a location just beyond the red circle that marked the boundary.

“Look, monjita,” Alexia teased, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “This one says homemade gelato, and it’s right beside a jewelry shop.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing skeptically at the spot she was pointing to. “I don’t know, Ale,” you murmured, lowering your voice. “What if the nuns catch us?”

Alexia let out an exaggerated groan, rolling her eyes. “Please, it’s like ten meters outside the parameter. They’ll be too excited being out and about to even think about exploring beyond the red circle. And think about it—” she leaned in, her hazel eyes gleaming mischievously, “we’d get to comfortably act like a couple without worrying too much.”

You hummed, contemplating. Alexia added on, “And, we can visit the jewelry shop nearby. It says it’s handmade so you can ask the shopkeeper about how she makes them.”

Your lips twitched, fighting back a smile. You’ve always wanted to explore jewelry design and crafting, and Alexia knew that. What you didn’t know, however, was that Alexia had secretly brought along some of her savings, fully planning to surprise you with an early Christmas gift.

Before you could respond, Sister Jude’s sharp voice cut through the low chatter on the bus. “Girls, one final reminder before we leave,” she announced, standing at the front of the aisle with her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “Stay within the marked areas on your maps, return to the bus on time, and for heaven’s sake, do not make a scene. Is that understood?”

A chorus of “Yes, Sister Jude” echoed through the bus, though you and Alexia exchanged a knowing glance, biting back laughter.

As the bus came to a stop, everyone began shuffling out in pairs. You and Alexia hung back slightly, waiting until the nuns were preoccupied with handing out last-minute instructions. The moment you stepped off the bus and out of their line of sight, Alexia slipped her hand into yours, her fingers intertwining with a natural ease.

She gave your hand a light squeeze before pulling you closer, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “There,” she said with a grin, her voice soft. “Finally.”

You blushed, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. “Ale, you’re going to get us in trouble,” you muttered, though you didn’t pull away.

“Relax,” she said, brushing her thumb over your knuckles. “We’re just two innocent best friends holding hands. Totally normal.”

Alexia and you had begun wandering towards the direction of the gelato stop, occasionally stopping to look through shopfronts and the animals that passed by with their owners. Whenever a small dog passed by, Alexia gushed at it, even going out to say a small bon dia to every dog, surprising you. “Never pegged you to be such a dog lover.”

Alexia nodded. “I’ve always wanted a dog, a small one like the one.” She shared, before moving her hand from yours to around your shoulder. “But my grandparents were allergic so all we had were stupid fish.”

You chuckled, biting your lip as you got an idea. “Well, we can always just buy a dog then,” you chirped. “It can live in our apartment since the owner did say the building is pet-friendly.”

Alexia immediately caught on to your roleplaying and played along. “Oh, but honey, are you sure you’d be fine with it? What if it poops all over our apartment?”

You smiled widely. “Well… I’ll make you pick it up then.”

“Sure,” she hummed. “Or we can just hire a dog nanny! I mean, we both make so much money anyway now that you practically own Cartier and I’m a big-time football superstar!”

You nodded. “A dog nanny it is.”

You looked up to her, locking eyes before you both burst into a laugh at yourselves. Alexia shook her head, “But seriously, if we do leave that school, would you like to…” she trailed off, worrying it would be too soon to even bring it up.

You squeezed the hand around your shoulder with your own, making Alexia meet your eyes. “Of course, Alexia,” you said sincerely. “We’ll get a place of our own, adopt a dog – maybe, not a dog nanny yet – but yeah…”

Alexia’s eyes warmed visibly. She exhaled a quiet laugh but there was a hint of emotion to it. She didn’t want to be overly emotional over something so small so she just stayed silent, smiling to herself.

“Oh look,” Alexia pointed. “It’s the gelato shop.”

The shop was small and inviting, with an intricately painted sign overhead that read Gelateria Fiori. The front was painted with white and light pink stripes and there was a string of fairy lights hanging above the sign.

You stepped inside, holding hands with Alexia, immediately overwhelmed by the aroma of fresh waffle cones and a variety of flavors. The two of you peered into the display with handwritten signs of traditional and more unusual flavors: Pistachio, Stracciatella, Chocolate, Vanilla, Lavender Honey, Mint, and even a bunch more.

Alexia chuckled at your wide-eyed expression. “You look like a kid in a candy store.”

You beamed at her. “How aren’t you excited?” You said, unable to contain your excitement. “Everything here looks so good.”

Without hesitation, you leaned over the counter and began asking the worker for samples, your voice bubbling with enthusiasm. Alexia stayed back, watching with a soft smile as you tasted flavor after flavor. There was a childlike wonder in your eyes, and it made her chest feel warm.

You hummed happily after trying the Stracciatella. “Why are all the flavors so good?” you groaned, turning to Alexia with an exaggerated pout. “Maybe having ice cream before lunch wasn’t such a good idea.”

Alexia smiled, tucking a hair behind your ear, happy to see you be so excited over ice cream. “Let’s be bad, angel,” she said in a low voice. “Let’s have ice cream for lunch.”

Your cheeks warmed at her touch, but you laughed, the playfulness in her tone impossible to resist. “Alright,” you said, already scanning the counter again. “If we’re being bad, I’m going all out.”

You ended up ordering three scoops of different flavors, piling them high in a waffle cone. Alexia went for a parfait, elegantly layered with fruit and gelato. The two of you found a cozy corner table by the window, the faint sound of the street outside blending with your quiet chatter.

As you dug into your ice cream, Alexia couldn’t help but watch you with a fond expression. You caught her gaze and tilted your head, raising an eyebrow. “Ale, why are you staring at me like that?”

“I have an idea,” Alexia smiled as her lips curled into a smile, swirling her spoon around in her parfait. “Why don’t we pretend this is a first date?”

You tilted your head. “First date?”

“Yeah, I mean, we never really had a real first date. I just met you, moved in, and lived with you ever since — talk about UHAUL.” She joked which you cautiously laughed at, not understanding the joke reference. She smiled, forgetting you were the sheltered angel that you were, always so clueless to pop culture references. She exhaled. “Okay, I’ll start – hey, I’m Alexia.”

You chuckled, introducing yourself before stretching your hand to shake hers. “Nice to meet you, Alexia.”

“So, I like football and I like going to the beach and having a swim,” she said, putting a finger to her chin, pretending to think. “Oh, and I like pretty, innocent girls and how they blush whenever I look at them.”

“Girls – plural?” You playfully cocked an eyebrow at her.

“First date and you’re jealous already?” She teased, before putting a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth.She nodded. “But… I guess, I do like possessive girls.”

You two chuckled. The pretend date continued with you two being silly over your fantasies of delusion. No matter how ridiculous it was, it kinda felt like a real first date. It gave you the normalcy that being in a boarding school deprived you of.

After you finished your ice cream, you walked over to the nearby jewelry shop. The storefront had an inviting and esoteric charm with warm light spilling out onto the street. Inside, there were carved wooden displays all over the shop. There were glass cases filled with uniquely crafted items.

The tall woman with a friendly smile greeted you and Alexia. “Hello, ladies. Looking for anything in particular?”

You bit your lip, thinking about the Euro notes left in your envelope, knowing all you’d be able to afford was maybe the clasp or a steel chain. You nodded with, “Oh, yes, just looking…”

The clerk gestured for you to browse freely. Alexia leaned in and whispered, “Go ahead, enjoy yourself.” She gave your shoulder a light squeeze before stepping aside, letting you take your time exploring.

You wandered off to the far end of the room, completely captivated by the sparkling displays. Your eyes sparkled with awe as you admired delicate rings, intricate necklaces, and bracelets adorned with gemstones.

While you were lost in admiration, Alexia approached the clerk with a soft smile. Lowering her voice, she said, “So… I really want to get a nice gift for my girlfriend, but I have no idea where to start.”

The clerk’s eyes sparkled. “Ooh, how sweet! So thoughtful at such a young age,” she walked over to grab a velvet box of rings, lifting the glass lid to show Alexia. “Rings are popular with young couples; you can get her a promise ring, if you’d like.”

Alexia’s eyes carefully scanned the set, touching one that looked like a branch. Her fingers brushed against the texture of the gold ring. “Oh this is gorgeous,” she hummed. “It kinda reminds me of a tree branch.”

The clerk nodded approvingly. “It’s one of our more unique pieces.

Alexia studied the ring for a moment longer before setting it down carefully. It was lovely, but something about it didn’t feel quite right. “Could I put this one aside and look at some necklaces instead?” she asked.

“Of course, dear,” the clerk replied warmly, leading Alexia to another corner of the shop.

They explored several options together—gemstone necklaces, bold statement pieces, and quirky designs with small working watches or abstract shapes. None of them seemed right. The extravagant pieces would be too ostentatious for you while the novelty pieces just felt impersonal.

Then, a glint caught Alexia’s eyes. She walked over to the source, looking into the glass case and she saw the most delicate necklace with a small, intricately designed bird.

The moment Alexia saw it, her eyes lit up. The simplicity and elegance of the piece struck a chord in her. The clerk noticed her reaction and smiled knowingly. Alexia gushed silently. “This is so perfect.”

Alexia touched the charm again, feeling the texture under her touch. It reminded her of your drawings but this time, this bird wasn’t grounded or caged or shot in the heart. It was a bird mid-flight, glowing and sparkling under the light. It was gorgeous but not too flashy — just a small golden bird with its wings outspread on a dainty chain. It was perfect.

Alexia’s face softened into a warm smile. “I’ll take it,” she said without hesitation. Then she paused, a flicker of practicality crossing her mind, realizing she didn’t have an unlimited budget. “Wait… how much is it?”

The clerk chuckled at Alexia's reaction, quoting a price that was comfortably within Alexia’s budget. Relief washed over her — she could afford the necklace and still have enough left for a croissant or a peach later, if you suddenly fancied one.

“Perfect,” Alexia said with a firm nod. She handed over the cash and processed the purchase before calling you over. You turned around to see an excited look on your girlfriend’s face. You smiled and made your way over to her.

Alexia smiled at you. “Close your eyes and turn around,” she said. “I wanna show you something.”

You curiously tilted your head but she just nodded, gesturing for you to trust her. Without another moment of hesitation, you followed her orders, turned around and closed your eyes. “Now, lift up your hair.” Alexia said in a warm, low voice. The excitement was obvious in her tone.

With both hands, you delicately held your hair up as if in a makeshift ponytail as you felt something light be put around your neck. Alexia clasped the necklace from behind, feeling incredibly happy with her purchase. Carefully, she spun you around. “Open your eyes.”

As soon as your eyes fluttered open, the first thing you saw was your girlfriend’s smile, immediately warming your heart. “Look at the mirror, monjita.”

You nodded as you turned to the mirror propped on the display case and felt your breath get caught in your throat. “Wow, it’s so beautiful,” you didn’t know why but suddenly, tears welled up in your eyes as your hand gently grazed the charm, scared that it would break if you touched it any firmer. “I… it’s so…”

Alexia smiled. “You like it?”

You nodded and quickly wiped the small tears in your eyes as you did. Before you could even whisper to her that you didn’t have the funds to cover it, Alexia smiled and said, “It’s yours.”

“W-what?”

“I got it for you… as a gift,” Alexia said. “Think of it as an early Christmas present.”

Your mouth practically opened wide as she said it. Your eyes flickered to the reflection of the necklace then back to Alexia. “No, no,” you gushed. “You can’t… it’s too much.”

Alexia shook her head. “I already bought it, and they don’t do refunds.” She joked before putting a hand on your face, using her thumb to rub against your face. “C’mon, just say thanks and promise you’ll take care of it.”

You practically jumped into Alexia’s arms, wrapping your arms around her neck to hold her tightly. “Oh my god, Alexia, this is so nice of you.” You gushed. “I loved it. You’re the actual angel between us.”

Alexia felt herself grow soft and warm as she saw how happy you were. She smiled as she saw you look at yourself in the mirror, touching the necklace. The glow on your face was priceless; you truly looked like an actual angel to her. “Anything for my angel.”

You wanted to kiss Alexia then and there but the presence of the store clerk made you hesitate, settling to plant a kiss on her cheek instead. “Thank you, thank you so much.” You said in a hushed voice.

You two locked eyes for a moment before the store clerk interrupted, “I don’t usually do this but,” she paused to crouch down and grab a wooden box from behind the counter, fishing inside. “And I’m only doing this cause I’m a fan of young love, and I really think you two are cute and — ah, there it is…”

She took out a necklace from the cluttered box. “I actually have the prototype for that necklace,” she said. “It’s not as detailed and clean as the one you got but… I think it would be nice if you two matched.”

The lady handed over a nearly identical necklace. It wasn’t as polished as the one Alexia had bought for you but the difference was not all that different. You took it from her carefully.

“I should buy you this,” you paused to look into your bag where the envelope was. “Well, if it’s within my budget…”

The lady interrupted. “No, no, I’m giving it to you two and it’s not a big deal. It would have just been forgotten in this little box anyway.” She clarified, relieving you. “I think it deserves to belong with its twin and with a beautiful couple who deserve equally beautiful matching statement pieces.”

You thanked the lady endlessly before making your girlfriend turn around. “Okay, Alexia, bend so I can put this on you.” You ordered, trying to sound as confident as she did. She chuckled and bent her knees a bit as she lifted her hair.

You carefully placed the necklace around her neck, making sure to clasp it carefully. She turned around and looked into the mirror, beaming at the sight of the two of you with your matching necklaces.

“You two are so beautiful that I could cry,” the lady gushed, clasping her hands together dramatically. “Please, when the time comes and you two decide to get married, come back and I’ll gladly craft your rings for you – with a very generous discount.”

You chuckled, cheeks warming at her enthusiasm. You haven't even thought about marriage yet here was some stranger rooting so hard for the two of you that she was determined you'd end up walking down the aisle with Alexia. It was cute.

Before you could respond, Alexia smirked, mischief glinting in her eyes. “What do you think, honey?” she teased, slipping an arm loosely around your shoulders. “A simple gold band with a massive diamond? Maybe… thirteen carats?”

You shook your head and chuckled before playing along with her silliness. “Oh, absolutely. And don’t forget our darling dog. We'll need to get him a matching golden collar, of course.”

The two of you burst into laughter, the sound light and unrestrained, filling the cozy jewelry shop like a melody. At that moment, you forgot about boarding school, the high standard you had to uphold, the judgement; it all disappeared like a faint memory.

You glanced at Alexia as her laughter softened, her face still glowing with warmth. There was a lightness in her eyes that made your heart ache in the best way. In that fleeting moment, you felt like two birds flying high, chasing after one another playfully as you chirped gleefully.

You wished you could feel like that forever – free to love, free to live, free to be who you were without having to live up to who everyone expected you to be. Life would have been so much easier, if it were.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t your life.

After sharing a croissant and a soda on your way back from the jewelry shop, you’d realized that it was almost time for the agreed-upon meet-up. So, Alexia and you ran back with Alexia having to hold back just so she wouldn’t leave you trailing behind.

Once you got to the bus, Sister Jude gave you a faint glare. “You’re late,” she tutted before looking at her watch. “Well… almost late.”

You apologized even if you didn’t do anything wrong. Suddenly, the constrained feeling rushed back in. This was the life you actually had – a life where you had to be the perfect girl, live according to the rules, the bible, to the nun’s expectation. You clutched your necklace nervously as you stepped on the bus, finding comfort in its cold touch.

You sighed. Maybe that taste of freedom was enough for you to realize how desperate you were to leave the school and live the life you actually wanted.

Since returning back from the trip, life at Santa Eulalia felt more suffocating than ever. You’d always known that the school was restrictive but now, it felt unbearable to stay inside the confines of the school. You felt like a bird freed, given a taste of soaring through the sky, only to be captured again and forced back into your cage.

Every task, every class, every Bible reading – it felt like such a burden, holding you down and keeping you from living life.

Alexia noticed the change almost immediately. You talked endlessly about life outside — the places you wanted to see, the people you wanted to meet. You asked her to tell you more stories about her travels, about the countries and cities she’d visited. You even tried to ask her more about football, and what the culture surrounding it was outside the confines of your school.

The once vast halls of the school seemed to shrink around you.

It wasn’t just the yearning for freedom that consumed you; it was the growing doubt in your heart. The blind devotion that once guided you now wavered, replaced by a sense of questioning. For the first time, you started to wonder if you truly believed. You hated how questions were discouraged, and how curiosity was seen as rebellion. You hated how faith often came without explanations, leaving you feeling hollow when you sought deeper understanding.

You tried to keep up appearances for the sisters and your peers. You still bowed your head during prayers and recited the hymns when required, but you were slipping. You no longer volunteered to lead Bible studies, you didn’t initiate faith talks like you once had, and you even forgot to pray before meals.

No one noticed at first, but you did. You felt it in every small way you disconnected from the person you used to be.

One Thursday morning, you woke up to your girlfriend, gently rubbing your shoulder. “Hey sleepyhead,” she cooed. “It’s almost 8 am.”

With those words, you jolted awake; you’ve forgotten about leading early morning prayer. The dorm heads usually took turns leading the morning prayer or liturgy hours with any other student awake and willing to join as early as 6 am. Thursdays were your assigned days but you might have chatted too far into the early morning with Alexia that you failed to wake up in time.

“Oh my god,” you gasped.

“Hey, hey, relax,” Alexia soothed, placing a calming hand on your arm. “It’s all good. I woke up in time and covered for you. Told the nuns you had a migraine.”

Relief washed over you, and you flung your arms around her. “Alexia, what would I do without you?” you whispered, gratitude spilling over.

Alexia smiled softly, her hand gently rubbing your back. “You’d be fine, monjita. But I gotta say…” she pulled back to look at you, her expression growing serious. “You haven’t seemed like your usual, um, perfectionist self this past week. Don’t get me wrong… I love how laid-back you’ve been lately. It’s nice to see you relax. But…”

She tilted her head, her warm hazel eyes searching yours. “I feel like something’s off. Is there something wrong?”

You hesitated, biting your lips and unconsciously pulling your blankets up. “Since the trip…” you started. “I just have been feeling… restrained.”

Alexia smiled knowingly, reaching over to tuck stray hairs behind your ear. “Monjita, I get it.” She comforted you. “I’ve been feeling the same thing lately. Ever since our trip, I just miss living a normal life. Even if it did suck seeing girls flirt with you, I felt like that was the sense of normalcy I’ve missed.”

You chuckled a bit before sighing. “I’m just itching to get back out.”

She hummed. “I get it, angel.” She responded. “Only a few more months and we get to leave this place.”

Her words warmed your heart. “Just have to push through the next months,” you repeat to yourself.

You would have thought that you would have learned from the morning prayer incident.

But this time, the slip-up was bigger. Much bigger.

You’d completely forgotten to prepare the Advent wreath —something you usually planned weeks in advance. Every year, you meticulously decorated it with ribbons, ornaments, and delicate details, knowing how much everyone looked forward to seeing it displayed at Mass. But with how distracted and out of sorts you’d been lately, the task had completely slipped your mind.

You were only reminded when a girl from Ingrid’s dorm asked if you needed more ribbons, offering up her own. She said she didn’t know if you’d still need them, given that you may have been already done with it since the wreath was due that afternoon.

You’ve fallen into a panic, fishing out random stuff from the common room closet and your own craft box. You haphazardly glue-gunned and pieced together a wreath that looked decent for a casual advent display for a small classroom but yours was often used for the mass which all the students attended. It was the kind everyone looked forward to seeing by the altar. Fantastic wreaths were kinda what you’ve become known for in Santa Eulalia.

And now, here it was – your drab, uninspired, and lacklustre wreath.

The nuns’ reactions confirmed your worst fears. As they inspected the wreath, their raised eyebrows and soft but unmistakable tuts cut through you like a blade. Their disappointment was palpable.

You didn’t even try to make an excuse for the subpar quality of it. You just stood there and took in their judgement. The nuns said nothing more than a curt “thanks” with a biting tone.

As you turned to leave, Sister Catherine called out to you. Her voice was gentle, her expression warm — a stark contrast to the others.

“Dear,” she began, her tone kind but measured, “since Edith took over in the library, the books have fallen into a bit of disarray.” She clasped her hands together and asked carefully, “Would you be so kind as to help rearrange them back into proper order? It might take a while though.”

Her smile was warm, but you could feel the weight of the other nuns’ gazes on you, testing your response. After the wreath fiasco, there was no room for refusal even if the last thing you wanted to do was spend an entire day in the library. You acquiesced, forcing a nod and a polite smile.

Sister Catherine thanked you warmly before you walked out, feeling a weight on your shoulders. You were slowly losing care or appreciation about the whole tradition that came with your religion this time of year; it was slowly appearing to you as some cover-up of all the bigotry the beliefs held. But, it still sucked that you let the sisters down.

You were always their favorite, and how couldn’t you be their favorite?

You were on top of things, leading prayers and organizing novenas, even initiating decorating advent wreaths and nativity scenes. You didn’t realize that all your years in the school – working your ass off – was just you eventually setting yourself up for failure.

And you just hated the judgement that came with it, the way the nuns looked at you with such disapproval, as though one mistake had unraveled everything you’d worked for.

They were supposed to be compassionate, understanding, forgiving. But too often, they were rigid and demanding. They expected perfection from you, and the moment you fell short, they were quick to remind you of it.

And the worst part? They didn’t even need to say much. A glance, a raised brow, a click of the tongue — they knew how to make you feel small without lifting a finger.

You sighed deeply, dragging your feet as you walked away. As much as you wanted to rant about the unfairness of it all, you couldn’t escape the gnawing guilt inside. You’d messed up. You hadn’t been yourself lately, and it was starting to show in ways you couldn’t ignore.

If you didn’t want your cracks to show, you had to pull things together and at least show them you’re good enough – at least, good enough to graduate and leave this academy, once and for all.

Even if your cage was small, the last thing you wanted to do was peck at the hand that kept you in that cage because you knew that in just a few months, you’d be set free.

Alexia was quick to agree to help out in the library. Football training was on hold now that the weather was getting colder and exam season was approaching. It was sad not being able to play her favorite sport but it also meant spending more time with you, even if you two had to endure dusty books and the menial task of organizing them until the late hours of the night.

You got through the day with your new favorite pastime – roleplay.

Often, Alexia and you would play pretend, mostly acting as if you were a normal couple that lived outside the walls. You two were starting to get so good at it that you might as well start an improv club.

Cleaning up the dishes after lunch? A couple bickering about when they should buy a dishwasher. Polishing the steel vessels used in mass? An aristocratic couple forced to polish their gold-encrusted silverware after they sacked their maids. And now, in the library, still organizing in the late hours, Alexia decided it would be funny practicing pick-up lines on you as if you were meeting for the first time.

“Okay, okay, listen to this one,” Alexia said, placing a book on a shelf you’d struggled to reach earlier. She turned toward you with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Hey, girl, are you a library book?”

You chuckled. “No.”

Alexia rolled her eyes dramatically, groaning as if you’d ruined her performance. “Monjita, you’re supposed to ask why.”

Still laughing, you raised your hands in mock surrender. “Alright, fine. Why am I a book?"

The smile returned on Alexia’s face as she put one hand against the bookshelf, trying to be all suave. “Cause I wanna check you out.”

You let out a sigh, shaking your head at her cheesy delivery. “Even I—your girlfriend — wouldn’t swoon for that.”

“Ouch, monjita!” Alexia groaned, clutching her chest as if wounded. “Okay, okay, let me redeem myself. I’ve got a better one.”

You crossed your arms, raising a skeptical brow. “Alright, impress me.”

She brushed her hair back in an exaggerated motion. “Hey, baby girl, are you a book?”

You squinted, already suspicious. “This is the same one!”

“It’s not, I swear!” she insisted, a playful gleam in her eyes. She looked at you with mock sincerity, as if pleading for one last chance. You sighed, indulging her.

“Alright, fine. Why am I a book?”

Alexia smirked, leaning closer. “Because I just wanna pick you up and spread you wide open.”

Your jaw dropped as your cheeks flushed red. With a gasp, you immediately grabbed the nearest book and smacked her lightly on the arm. Alexia burst into laughter, clutching her sides as she leaned against the shelf for support.

“You’re so disgusting,” you exclaimed. “You should be glad I like you.”

Alexia chuckled, pleased with your response. “If you think I’m so bad at it, why don’t you give it a try.”

You hummed, taking a moment to think as you stacked the books in proper order. You bit your lip and turned to your girlfriend. “Uh, I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t have any pick-up line skills like you do.”

Alexia smiled. “It doesn’t have to be witty or joke-y.” She explained. “Just try flirting with me like we’re meeting for the first time.”

You sighed, pausing. “Uh, hey,” your eyes nervously flickered. “I like your necklace?”

Alexia looked down on her necklace as if surprised it was there. “Oh wow, thanks!” She feigned sincerity, looking up to you. “Yours isn’t so bad either.”

You chuckled, shaking your head, ready to drop the act until Alexia moved closer and touched your necklace. “Our necklaces are pairs so does that make us a pair?” She gushed dramatically.

“Hmm, I guess,” you said, returning to the task of stacking books.

Alexia sighed. “Well, I guess that means we’re soulmates then. Destined to meet each other,” she said as if she were some actress on a stage. “That means we have to kiss now.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes at her. “It might just mean we bought it from the same place?”

Alexia wouldn’t drop the act. She gently took your face, making you look at her. “No, it means we have to kiss.” She said softly with a more genuine tone this time. You smiled as you looked into her eyes, deciding a small kiss wouldn’t hurt considering that it was late into the night and the library was completely empty. You leaned in and gave your girlfriend a small, gentle kiss. You pulled away immediately, biting your lip.

“Hmm, I guess maybe we are soulmates, my darling necklace-partner.” You said in a soft yet joking tone. She smiled, not moving to lean back. You searched her eyes, hesitating for a moment but you couldn’t resist her.

You put down the book still in your hand and grabbed Alexia’s face, initiating a more intense kiss. Alexia didn’t expect you to kiss her so intensely; all she expected was another soft kiss but who was she to decline a make-out session with her beautiful girlfriend?

Your hands tangled into Alexia’s hair, deepening the kiss. You moaned silently as her hands moved to the small of your back. Even if you kissed Alexia every day, you still were always surprised every time by just how good she was at it. She knew how to tease you, make you moan, and leave you wanting for more with just her kiss.

Kissing Alexia always felt so freeing, so liberating.

“Oh my god.”

It was soft but it was loud enough for you two to hear and practically jump away from each other. You looked at the far end of the dim aisle you were tucked away in and saw the familiar sight of one of your peers - Anna.

She had a mouth to her hand, stunned by the sight. Soon, she started walking towards you two as you gulped and threw a nervous look at Alexia who seemed to share your anxiety.

“Oh my Lord, I can’t believe it.” The younger girl gasped as she realized that it was you and Alexia that she saw. “I… I heard rumors about Alexia… why she’s here but I would have never thought that you…”

Anna looked at you with shaking eyes and an intense look on her face. “A companion of fools suffers harm.”

“Huh?” Alexia whispered quietly in confusion but you got it immediately. It was the Bible verse you cited to her before.

“You told me that when I got here,” the young girl said, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “You told me to surround myself with good people, people that will make me better.”

You gulped but stayed still, not saying a word.

“And now,” she shifted her gaze to Alexia. “Look at you. You keep a dirty homosexual for company and now, you’re just like her.”

“Anna, it’s not…” Your voice came out weakly. “It isn’t what you think it is.”

She chuckled dryly. “Yeah? Are you gonna lie to me now? Tell me you weren’t just letting her stick her tongue in your mouth?” You were shocked by the sudden outrage coming from this girl. Just months ago, she was timid and shy but you figured that all the time she spent with the nuns may have influenced her, indoctrinating her.

“Sister Philomena was right,” Anna’s voice shook, confirming your thoughts and speculations. “If you walk this earth with fellow lambs, you will never get lost. If you walk with wolves, you get eaten.”

Alexia stepped forward. “What are you going to do about it? No one’s going to believe you.” She taunted back. “Y/N’s been here longer. She’s established her status in this place. They would take her word over yours.”

Anna frowned. “You seriously still believe that she...” she paused to look at you, “...is still loved and admired by the sisters? For the past few weeks, they’ve been whispering about her incompetence and how she’s been slipping up.”

“And besides, Alexia, maybe you're right and they might still like her but they certainly hate you.” She said. “You’re practically one foot out of the door in this institute. They won't hesitate to expel you.”

“Why?” You asked. “Why are you doing this?”

Anna stared at you like you had just said the most absurd, offensive thing imaginable. Her face twisted with disdain. “Because I love the Lord, and I live by His word,” she declared with fervor. “And when I see depravity — when I see sinners like you — I know it’s my duty to make things right.”

Her words struck you like a slap, leaving you momentarily frozen. Before you could even try to reason with her, Anna had turned on her heel, already running of to tattle the sisters.

“Anna, wait!” you called after her, stepping forward, desperation rising like a tidal wave in your chest. “Please!”

But she didn’t stop.

You felt your knees start to buckle, your body trembling as you were overcome with panic. Before you could collapse, Alexia was suddenly by your side, her strong arms wrapping around you to hold you upright.

“Monjita,” she murmured urgently, her voice low and firm, though you could hear the tremor of tension in it. “It’s going to be okay. We need to run away. Now.”

The tone of Alexia’s voice made you even more nervous. You tried to stop yourself from crying. “W-what?”

“Listen to me.” Alexia placed her hands firmly on your shoulders, forcing you to meet her gaze. Her tone was steady, but there was a sharp edge of urgency behind it. “The best option we have now is to leave. Tonight. Right now.”

“B-but it’s the middle of the night –”

“Please,” she begged. “Trust me.”

You swallowed before nodding, putting all your trust in Alexia even if the doubt never left your mind. “Okay.”

You both scurried to your dorm room. As soon as you got there, you opened your only duffel bag and filled it with only your jug of water, a few change of clothes, your wallet and your sketchbook. Alexia moved swiftly, taking everything she thought you two would need, thanking herself for saving enough money for you two to at least secure a train ticket to the nearest city.

She took your hand, slinging her bag on her shoulder. “Monjita, we need to go.”

You nodded and held on to her tightly before you two left your dorm room.

You nodded, gripping her hand tightly as she led you out of the dormitory.

The night air was cold and biting as you two hurried down the halls and across the field. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the wind made your heart jump. You could barely hear Alexia’s breathing over the pounding of your own heart.

“Alexia,” you whispered, struggling to keep up with her determined pace. “What if they catch us?”

“They won’t,” she replied firmly, though her grip on your hand tightened. “Just keep moving.”

You looked back once more, nervous that you might catch a glimpse of them running after you two, but you kept running until you finally reached the gates, your breath coming in long gasps. Alexia fumbled with the latch, her fingers cold and trembling. With a faint metallic click, the gate creaked open, and the two of you slipped through, breaking into a run as soon as your feet hit the gravel road.

You two ran and ran. The train station was at least 20 minutes away and you knew there was no way that the nuns – those fragile, aged ladies – could ever catch up to the two of you.

“Stay close,” Alexia said as you finally covered a significant distance from the gates. Alexia breathed heavily, feeling the cold air nip at her skin and make it harder for her to breathe.

You nodded, even more winded than your girlfriend. “Do you think Anna told them?”

Alexia shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.” She sighed. “We’re out now. They can’t control us.”

A sigh of relief escaped your lips but then the worry lingered not far behind. “But what do we do now? Where do we go?”

“My parents,” she started. “We have to go to the city first since I don’t think our money could cover the cost to our province. I have a friend who works in the city and has a place there. We can call my parents up and ask them for some money so that we can take a train. They’ll help us.”

You nodded, trusting Alexia. You knew that at this point, she too was desperate.

Alexia had always talked about her parents and how loving they were. They only sent her to her grandparents once her father had fallen ill and her grandparents offered to take care of her, financially supporting her and housing her as she attended school. She put up with their religious bullshit, not wanting to worry her parents. She knew they had a lot going on already.

Though, at times, Alexia wished she complained sooner, and told them about how unbearable life was being forced to live by the Bible. But then again, that would have meant that she would never have met you.

You finally reached the train station, feeling a rush of relief through you. It was scary, not knowing what would happen next or even how your parents would react if they found out about you running off with a girl. But you figured that you’d rather free-fall into the unknown than willingly walk back into your own cage.

Alexia led the way to the ticket counter, her hand gripping yours tightly as if afraid to let go. At the booth, she leaned forward, pointing to a stop on the map. “Two tickets, please,” she said, her voice strained but steady.

The ticket agent nodded, starting to type.

For a moment, you began to relax. The station was quiet, almost empty, and the thought of being on a train heading somewhere — anywhere — was exhilarating. But then, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the station.

You looked over to the source of the sound and tugged at Alexia’s sleeves. She looked over and she gulped, looking at your eyes apologetically, as if she could have gotten you out of there faster.

The policemen approached, their heavy boots thudding against the tile. One of them, a stocky man with a clipboard in hand, stopped in front of you.

“Evening, ladies,” he said, flipping through the report. “Got a call from the nearby academy. Two students ran off with some… golden crucifixes?” His tone was dry, almost dismissive as if he didn’t believe it himself. “That wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”

Alexia stood straighter, her voice firm. “No, officer, we didn’t steal anything.”

The cops looked at you two skeptically. “Right. Well, we don’t have the authority to search you here,” he said, his voice low and measured. “But we do need to escort you back to the school until we can get the proper paperwork sorted.”

Your voice quivered. “Please, officer, we were just leaving the school. We can show you our bags willingly just to show you we haven’t stolen anything. Please."

The tall officer glanced at his partner, who shrugged lazily. “Sorry, kid. Not how this works. We’ve got procedures.” He stepped closer, his tone hardening. “Now let’s go. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Your heart sank as the gravity of the situation hit you. The station, once a beacon of freedom, now felt like a trap. You glanced at Alexia, whose jaw was clenched in frustration. Her hand squeezed yours, a silent attempt to reassure you, but you both knew the truth: your escape had been cut short.

It felt like a hunter’s arrow had struck your wings — wounding you, grounding you just when you’d thought you were about to soar. Nothing too fatal, just enough to wound a part of your wings, just enough to get you back into that cage.

The next events felt like a blur.

You held hands the entire way home and were only forced apart when Alexia was taken away by the nuns. You cried silently, clutching onto your jacket tightly as the nuns instructed you to head on to the other dorm building, to be watched over by another dorm head.

Luckily, it was Ingrid tasked to guard over you.

As soon as the door behind the two of you was shut, Ingrid came running to you, holding you in her arms as you sobbed, heaving with cries of sadness. She tried to console you but even she didn’t know what she would do if she were in your position.

“It’s going to be alright, darling,” she said, trying to sound as convincing as she could, even if she didn’t believe herself. “Shhh, you’ll be okay.”

You knew it was far from over, with the worst yet to come. Yet, you stayed in Ingrid’s arms, wounded and helpless, knowing that not even god could free you now.

‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ACT VI. Falling, Never to Fly Again

It was 5 am when you were tapped awake by Ingrid. It didn’t take too much to wake you; you were barely asleep. Ingrid just nodded at you, giving you an affirmative look as she was not able to say anything without bringing suspicion to herself.

As you stood, you immediately noticed several sisters in Ingrid’s dorm room, standing tall as they looked at you with judgment in their eyes. Even the warm and energetic Sister Catherine avoided your sight, shaking her head as you passed her.

They kept a close distance behind you and Ingrid as Ingrid led you to Sister Philomena’s office. A flashback of the last time Ingrid led you to the Sister Superior’s office flashed through your mind but this time, it felt worse. It was more silent and a lot colder. Ingrid couldn’t calm you down with her words or even hold your hand in solidarity as the nuns kept a watchful eye on both of you.

You didn’t know what to expect. You’ve spent the past hours thinking up the most doomed scenarios in your head and yet you still weren’t sure what you would face.

The door creaked open, revealing Sister Philomena seated in her high-backed chair, her face contorted into a mask of disapproval. Her piercing gaze bore into you, and you felt your breath hitch as the heavy atmosphere of the room settled over you. Your eyes darted around, desperate to find Alexia, but she was nowhere in sight.

“She’s not here,” Sister Philomena said sharply, answering your unspoken question. Her tone was calm, yet laced with venom. She motioned with a flick of her hand, and Ingrid hesitated before shutting the door behind her. You caught one last glimpse of Ingrid’s concerned face before you were left alone with the Sister Superior and the other nuns standing behind you.

The room felt suffocating, the walls pressing in as you stepped forward, legs trembling. You stood before the massive wooden desk, and Sister Philomena slowly raised her eyes to meet yours. Her gaze was sharp and unwavering, filled with animosity and judgement.

“Of all the students that have walked these halls and worn the Institute’s badge,” she pointed at you. “You were the one I was certain would walk the right path.”

“We always knew you would do the right thing, say the right thing,” she continued, with a steady yet firm voice. “You were the one we trusted to uphold the values and walk the rightful path, the path towards God. You were the one I least expected to stray.”

Her finger pointed accusingly at you. “We always trusted you to do the right thing. To be the right thing. You were meant to be a shining example, a beacon of virtue, a reflection of the teachings of Christ Himself. And now…” Her voice faltered, though her anger did not. “Now you’ve let us down.”

You dropped your eyes to the floor, unable to withstand her withering glare. She continued, her voice rising slightly, her frustration palpable. “You have not only defied the rules of this institution, but you have defied God’s will. And for what? For her?”

You remained steady and unmoving, not wanting to say or do anything that could frustrate her even more. The sister clicked her tongue, pausing to see if you would speak up or react but you froze in your spot, not wanting to give her anything to work with.

The sister tapped her pen on the desk, the sharp sound filling the silent room. The clicking sound sent shivers down your spine as it cracked through the silence each time.

“I called your parents.”

Your head shot up, your heart sinking like a stone in water. The blood drained from your face as her words registered. Sister Philomena smirked at your reaction, though her eyes remained devoid of any warmth.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said with a mocking tone. “I told them it wasn’t your fault.”

You parted your mouth to say something but nothing escaped. The sister hummed. “I told them you were simply kidnapped by her,” she added. “That you were an unwilling victim to her perversion.”

Your lips quivered at her words as tears welled up in your eyes as you shook your head. “No, sister, no…” you whispered, “that isn’t true…”

“Not true?” she interrupted, her voice cold and sharp. “So you mean to tell me you went willingly? That you abandoned the teachings of this sacred institution? That you love her?” She said the word with such disdain that it made you flinch.

Just as you were about to respond, she held up a hand.

“Choose your words carefully,” she warned, her tone grave. “I have told your parents what I believe to be the truth: that you are a victim of her depravity. A victim, mind you, who can still be saved by this Institution."

She paused. "But if you tell me now that I am mistaken — if you insist that you love her — then there will be no redemption for you here. We will have to resort to graver measures.”

"Graver measures?"

Her next words came slowly, deliberately. “I will have no choice but to send you to the cloistered nuns in La Cabrera,” she said as she stared at you. “There, within the silence of stone walls and under the rule of silence, isolation, and poverty, you may reflect on your sins and beg for your soul’s redemption. Perhaps, in time, your spirit can be salvaged.”

You tried to keep yourself together but both options felt like a trap. It was as if you were never meant for freedom, only being given a choice of what cage you would like to confine yourself in.

You shook your head as the tears continued to stream endlessly down your face. Sister Superior glared at you, utterly disgusted by what has become of you.

“You must decide now what the truth is,” she commanded, her words echoing through the suffocating room. “Admit that you were a victim — corrupted, deceived, and led astray by that lesbian — or accept your fate as we send you off to the cloistered sisters this very evening.”

A sob escaped your mouth as you fell to your knees, doubling over. The sisters behind tried to step closer to you, as if to help you up but the sister superior’s raised hand froze them in their tracks. Her eyes flicked toward them, sharp and unrelenting, giving them a silent instruction. They obeyed the unspoken command, retreating quietly. The sound of their hesitant shuffling and the click of the closing door left the room cloaked in unbearable silence, broken only by your wrenching sobs.

Sister Philomena did not speak. She did not comfort you. She waited. Her gaze bore into you, her lips pressed into a thin line as she impatiently watched you hunch over yourself on the floor. You couldn’t control yourself as you sobbed, your cries filling every corner of the room. The tension pressed down on you, suffocating, until finally, the sound of her hand slamming against the table shattered the air like a crack of thunder.

“Speak now,” she ordered, shouting out loud with a venomous voice. She had grown impatient with you. “Tell me what the truth is.”

You cried, blubbering and struggling to form words. You gasped for air as you tried to formulate a coherent sentence. Behind you, you could hear the sister’s hesitant shuffling as they entered back into the room. It was as if they wanted to step forward and console you but ultimately, no one came to comfort you.

You were put in an insanely difficult situation, forced to decide – deny the love that had changed your life, pretend it was a sin and that you were led astray, painting Alexia as some evil temptress but save yourself... or tell the truth, bare your soul, and end up locked up in some convent, significantly reducing your chances of seeing Alexia ever again.

Your thoughts were cut short by another thunderous sound of the sister’s hand on the table. “Speak.”

You tried to catch your breath and nodded, looking up to her from where you were kneeling. With a shaking voice, you said. “I was a victim.”

She nodded with a sharp look. “And what did she do to you?”

You felt your throat burn as you spoke up, trying to sound firm and honest, but ultimately failing as more tears fell from your eyes. “She corrupted me.”

The nun nodded. “And do you love her?”

Your breath caught. The question pierced through every defense you had left. Your entire body shook as you tried to find the strength to deny Alexia. “No, sister.”

She clicked her tongue. “You need to say it.”

“No, sister, I don’t lo–” your voice cracked as you tried to suppress the sobs.

You looked up and your eyes met Sister Philomena’s cold gaze, her face steady and emotionless. “Answer properly. Do you love her?”

A deep, shuddering breath as you mustered up all your energy. You met her eyes once more. “No, sister, I do not love her.”

A thick silence hung in the air, suffocating and heavy. Then Sister Philomena straightened, her voice cutting like a blade. “Good,” she said coldly, her words void of compassion. Her eyes shifted past you. “Hear that? She never loved you, Alexia. You were wrong.”

The floor seemed to drop out from under you. You spun around, your heart plummeting as you saw her. Alexia stood near the doorway with the other sisters, her shoulders hunched and her head bowed. Her hazel eyes glistened with tears as she stared at the ground, refusing to meet your gaze. Her hands were clenched into tight fists at her sides, her body trembling with the effort to hold herself together. The sisters had brought her into the room just as you denied your love.

You felt your heart pang as you heard her sniffle, trying so hard to hold back tears, and you just knew that at that moment, you broke her heart.

“Alexia,” you gasped, your voice breaking as you said. Just as you were about to reach for her and explain, Sister Ruth and Sister Jude led her out of the room as swiftly as they brought her in, holding her on either side as if she would try to escape.

“Alexia!” You shouted, ready to stand and run after her but Sister Catherine had rushed to you, holding you into a tight hug, pretending to console you just to hold you down in your spot.

As you watched the love of your life disappear before you, you fell limp into Sister Catherine’s arms, sobbing as you unraveled.

Birds have always lived with the weight of countless dangers — hunters, poachers, and predators lurking in the shadows. They lived in constant fear of arrows, weapons, and cruel men with intentions to clip their wings, to wound them and injure them so that they would never soar freely again.

For so long, you believed you were like a bird in a cage — isolated, trapped, and held back from flying. They told you the confinement was for your protection, that it shielded you from the dangers beyond the bars, that it kept you safe. You thought they kept you tethered because they feared the world would break you, because they refused to let you go.

But now, with the truth crashing over you, you understood.

They weren’t holding you back because you were a bird in confinement. They were drawing you back, tightening the strings not to restrain, but to use you. You were never the fragile bird. You were the arrow, pulled so tightly, so forcefully, meant to be launched. They held you back just to let you soar as a weapon, aimed at an innocent bird who once flew unburdened through the sky.

You were never the bird. You were never meant to be free. The only time you would ever feel the rush of the wind and get a taste of flying that high up in the sky was when you were launched, aimed to her heart. Suspended in the air together for one brief moment, before ultimately falling, never to fly again.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀previous chapter | epilogue

a/n: it's not over yet! this part is already pretty long at roughly 22k words. the epilogue is still being polished and i wanted you guys to already get to read this part already. reply if you wanna get tagged tag: @asodovlvlvpvp @snivells @jossyswift11 @my-favorite-sign-blog @therealgbaby @wosostan1675 @ohhazdamn

#woso x reader #the bird #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso fic #alexia putellas fluff #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagines #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas fanfic

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year ago

Text

Christian Woman

(König x Nun!Reader)

Word count: 6.4 k Tags/warnings: Pining intensifies, religious despair intensifies, minor injuries, treatment of wounds, crying, enthusiastic kissing, König gets a few boners. 18+ for eventual smut in this story.

A/N: Don't tell me you wouldn't get horny scared too if you saw this tall guy suddenly emerging from the shadows in his full war gear :) There's a cute date night and a lot of angst in this chapter too, I tried to summon an actual plot here... As always, I need to explain why they’re bonking! But smut is coming, next and last chapter will be full of fluff and steamy first times (Reader is virgin!)

Part 2

You have a feeling that this is the last day you’ll see him.

The stranger from the Austrian Alps, the kindest mercenary you’ve ever met – the only mercenary you’ve ever met – the giant soldier who now carries a piece of your heart with him. You wonder if he even knows he owns it.

The morning prayers and mass are a chore and bring you no comfort, and the usual dawn bliss is gone. You find no delight in singing with your sisters, and withdrawing to your cell for solitary prayer feels like stepping back inside your own personal purgatory.

You’ve been in heaven and in hell for days now. Maybe since the moment you met him...

But at the same time, you know it must’ve been the Lord who brought you together. There must be a reason for God to make you two meet, you refuse to think it’s only because He wishes to tempt you. There must be a bigger plan; the connection, as sinful and carnal as it is, has to serve some higher purpose.

And you wonder if you’re going mad, because your most sinful thought is that you actually see God in him. It’s just your lower instincts speaking, a demon of some sort that tries to misguide you because no man is like Lord Jesus.

And yet, don’t they always preach that you meet Him in every person you meet? And that through you, other people meet God too…?

This reasoning feels much better. It solidifies the mercy you’ve longed for during the brief weeks you’ve known this man who brashly calls himself König. You want to believe that he carries a spark of the Divine in him, and that you hold a grain of the Virgin Mary’s compassion and love in you.

You decide to hold on to this thought: that you were meant to meet so that you could come to know God through each other. For in König, you see a suffering God, a crucified Christ who rises against evil by offering himself to the cruelty of men. Somehow, the image of him as a mortal man starts to twist into a divine, dark trooper, someone who battles the forces of the evil in this world.

And this reasoning leads you to think that it is only natural that you, a Sister of the Faith, have helped him find some rest and relief in the middle of his work. It’s pretty clear that König has found some solace in your company, and even if things have ventured into a forbidden area of low, simple lust, it’s not dark enough to taint the beauty and grace you've felt together. As long as you hold on to this purity, nothing can go wrong.

While praying for both of you that morning, you find yourself replaying the smiles and touches König has given you these past weeks. You know you will drown yourself in memories after he's gone because they are all you’ll ever have of him.

And they're more than enough.

Or at least they should be…

You feel a tiny dagger of guilt push into your heart, the place reserved for Christ, when you’re assigned to do some spiritual reading instead of helping out in the kitchen or organizing the small library. The appointed texts are about falling into temptation and sin, reminding you about the consequences of such actions. You read the passings with a heavy heart and then slip out to meet König, possibly for the last time.

You wear your everyday clothes to the café, and König says nothing about your sudden moral choice, only gives you another longing, enamored once-over. You keep him at arm’s length, both physically and emotionally, and the effects of this unexpected cold shower are immediate. The man doesn’t even try to disguise the sad, puppy-eyed stares he shoots your way.

You hate it that the bright, playful air of your meetings is gone, and your heart is tearing itself apart in your chest because the only thing you wanted was to spread joy into his world. Even the Lord seems disappointed in you being so cold-hearted, and you can’t bear to see His sadness and suffering in König’s eyes.

You get offered not one, but two coffees today, and a large piece of dark chocolate cake that tastes of pure sin. He talks about how he would love to write to you, but you tell him you can’t be in correspondence with a man who isn’t your brother or father. König isn’t even married, so it would only raise questions – you would find yourself reading spiritual texts about lust and sin until it drives you crazy.

“I’m leaving early tomorrow,” he finally reveals with a voice thick with sorrow. “Can I see you before I go...? One last time?”

“I’d love to, but… I’m sort of being watched,” you say, slowly coming out of your shell to make it clear that you’d want to spend the rest of your life with him, but you simply just can’t.

Your weak, apologetic look is like a dose of confidence shot through his veins because the face opposite of you brightens immediately. König’s whole posture gets a hopeful uplift.

“Just for a little walk...? To see what the city looks like in the evening?”

“I don’t know if I can make it… I have to work until six... And attend the evening prayer at seven. And then silence starts at eight…”

You’re wringing your hands under the table while you explain, hoping König will come up with a solution to this dilemma.

“We can go for a walk after silence, then,” he shrugs.

“I–I can’t just escape from the window.”

“...Why not?”

You look at König; he looks straight back.

The man’s serious about you sneaking out your window at night; he’s actually serious, even if there’s a dark, playful smile rising on his lips.

“I can help,” he grins.

Your heart cracks open, it shoots full of light only more and more with that smile. König doesn’t need to ram a door down and shoot his way through your chest; all he has to do is sneak inside your heart and take the place that belongs to God. You don’t even feel the difference as he makes himself at home.

Well, actually, you do... It’s like your Christ’s love and mercy have finally come to flesh and blood before you. They're materialized in the man sitting opposite of you, bouncing his knee excitedly and grinning like the most innocent little devil on Earth.

You find yourself whispering “Ok”, and the whole world shifts.

You take a step towards something forbidden but great, your whole heart starts to sing along with life. You haven’t even done the actual thing yet but you’re already filled with bubbling laughter and excitement. If only your friend could see you now, about to do things she probably did when she was fifteen...

But everything feels so right that it can’t be a sin – if it is, it just so happens to be the most natural, most divine thing to do too.

If this is the last day you’ll ever see him, you can surely steal a tiny moment for yourself and forget about rights and wrongs for a moment. Just forget about the rules, and live in the actual world for a few hours, breathe the worldly air, see what normal people do and pretend you’re one of them, for just one night.

…

You feel like Cinderella when picking clothes for the evening.

You rummage through the only closet in your room – during the time that should be spent in silent prayer before bed – and notice you still have your old jeans.

They’re light blue and still fit; actually, they fit more than well... You know that König’s eyes will be glued to your butt when you’re not looking.

You have completely forgotten how nice you look in jeans, and it’s the Devil talking, making you admire yourself in tight denim like this. You never cared about how you look before; you certainly never gave much thought to how men see you or if they’re checking out your butt or breasts. Now you’re grooming yourself like never before, trying to decide what to do with your hair as if your life depended on it.

You choose a simple, black t-shirt to pair with the jeans and not make it too obvious that you’re trying to flaunt yourself. It hugs your form but is otherwise plain, and for some people, your choice of clothing is probably their regular work outfit. To you, it feels like you’re about to go out to seduce everyone.

Everything’s so tight and earthly; everything’s so… there. Visible... Touchable.

Lord, have mercy on me. I know I’m weak. But please let me have this, just this once…

And König has seen you without makeup all this time, so what on earth has possessed you to lament the fact that you don’t own a single case of lipstick? You’d kill for a few sweeps of mascara, too, just to bat your lashes at a silly man.

It’s not a date, you remind yourself.

It’s not a date... It’s not a date. You’re just going to have a short walk with him.

And you fear that accepting König’s “help” was a mistake. If you get caught with a man on the convent perimeter, you’ll get your ass thoroughly whooped…

Can a man of his size even keep quiet?

He probably suggested it so that you wouldn’t chicken out of this. If König is at your window by 8 and there’s no sign of you, he’ll probably just come in, throw you on his shoulder and jump out. He knows where your window is located now, and surely has some questionable skills due to his profession, skills you know nothing about, but you’re still about to have a panic attack from pure excitement when the clock strikes 8.

You push the window ajar and settle on the sill to keep watch, gasping when you hear his familiar accent down below as soon as the window is open.

“Kätzchen...”

“König…?”

You peek down and meet his stupid, grinning face – God, he’s so happy to see you kept your promise. His eyes are shining, his fingers interlock to help you have something to place your foot on.

“Here, kitty, kitty…”

You could easily jump out the window without hurting yourself, but of course he wants to help you since you were so kind to tell him where he could come and "pick you up".

But to see that playful smile and hear him trying to coax you out like you’re some skittish little kitten…

Could a grown man get any more silly?

You wiggle yourself out the window, trying to ignore the fact that he’s probably staring at your butt, still grinning like crazy while you do it.

SupportING your entire weight like it’s no trouble at all, he helps you down. You’ve never been this close to him since you bumped into him: you have to take support from his shoulders as you search for a footing, and he scoops you in his arms the minute both your feet are safely on the ground.

“I knew you’d come,” he purrs with joy, and you place your hands on his chest – not to keep him at bay, but to touch him in a way that is as appropriate as possible when a man is hugging you like this.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you whisper, still unsure if this is the best or the worst decision of your entire life.

“Kitty… Live a little, hmm?”

You have to crane your neck to look up at him – you’re not sure if you’re in the embrace of Jesus or Lucifer because the warmth of those eyes compare to the love of God, but they also make you weak and helpless. Whenever you’re with your sisters, the feeling is pure, pristine love, not a surge of complex emotions and thrill like it is with König.

“You’re a bad influence,” you breathe – König only laughs, and the grip around you tightens.

“My lady. You’re the one who climbed out the window.”

“Because someone would’ve probably thrown small rocks on it if I hadn’t…!”

“Natürlich. And if that didn’t work… A serenade or two. Do you like love songs?”

You look down at his chest, smiling, heart fluttering at the thought of a silly Austrian man serenading under your window. You have no trouble imagining him singing something syrupy in German, waking everyone up with his racket.

“You’re crazy, did you know that...?”

“Sure. They tell me that all the time at work. Aber du… Du bist süss.”

“...What’s that?”

His smile only widens as he takes in your lips, your neck, the tight shirt that finally gives him something more to look at.

“You’re cute.”

…

The whole evening is heavenly.

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted from a date and more.

He doesn’t take you for a short walk, oh no. He takes you out to eat, at some lively restaurant where they serve delicious, artisan, wood-fired pizzas. You have créme brûlée for dessert, and König gives you his strawberries when he notices you eat them first, but only on one condition: you have to let him feed them to you one by one.

He buys you a rose: a big, red, plump one. No man has ever bought you flowers before, and even if you love lush, abundant bouquets, the fact that he chose you a single red rose after you’ve spoken about the beauty of simplicity, doesn't escape you.

König hasn’t only listened to you these past few weeks: he gets you. And how symbolic is it that he chose a rose that’s also tied to all the mysteries of God?

You walk the streets with a flower in one hand and his palm in the other. It's a holy trinity of him and you and the Great Mystery, it’s passion and it’s thorns, it’s blood and beauty and pain, and you feel like he just gets you; he knows you through and through.

You pass by an outdoor bar with live music, and the place is so crowded that people are dancing on the streets. No cars honk as they slowly pass by the scene, the music and the laughing, dancing pairs make even the grumpiest passersby smile.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that König pulls you to him before you get to escape the scene. You’re drawn flush against his chest, hips colliding with his, hands finding each other in a slow sway that has never even seen the steps of Latin dances.

“Nuns are allowed to dance, no?”

He smiles dreamily, enveloped in the same sweet haze as you.

“Not with a man,” you correct, but don’t even bother to push him away. Instead, you let König guide his hand down your waist and draw you closer. If this isn't a date, you don't know what is...

“I can take the blame,” he says. “You can tell everybody it was me.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” you laugh.

“Why not?”

His eyes are glued to yours, making you warm all over, so much so that you feel like you’re burning from the neck up. You guide your stare down to his chest, then over to the quick heartbeat on his neck.

He's nervous, too... Your cruel soldier is nervous, and kind, and shy because he's pressed against you.

You rest your head there on his chest, watching the golden sunset far away, painting the rooftops with a genial glow. Your heart is made of molten gold, too, as you allow yourself find a home in his embrace.

“I can take your sins,” he promises above you. “Jesus did that too, right?”

“You’re not Jesus,” you smile against his shirt – black, always black...

“Are you sure? I would go to hell for you.”

Your dance comes to a halt as you swallow and lift your gaze. The smiles are gone now, both yours and his. He’s so close now he could touch your lips with his if he wanted to.

And he does want to.

You don’t shy away as he leans down to kiss you. It’s chaste at first, a slow exploration, but then he opens your mouth with his, demanding, hot, intoxicating. You melt in his arms, and he somehow supports you through it all, turning the dance into an embrace and the decent little kiss into a full French one.

It’s hot and wet and slow, so, so passionate that your knees are about to give in. You devour him back, feel how he grows hard against your stomach – the swelling erection makes you dizzy before you come to your senses, but only barely.

You break away an inch, panting into his mouth while he’s panting into yours. What a blessing that you don’t own any lipstick; both of your lips are red without it…

“This is–”

“Inappropriate?”

His voice is husky, and sends a flood of wetness down between your legs. Your heart is racing, but you can’t even note how terribly alive you are before he attacks your lips again.

The kiss is even more desperate than the first one, and the slow urgency is gone. His mouth leaves you without air, and then – he wraps his arms around you and picks you up from the ground like you weigh nothing. Your hands get squished somewhere between you, naturally coming to cup his face as you kiss him back.

It’s eager, pure lust, so powerful and needy that it scorches through your chest and ties your heartstrings into tight little knots, makes your brows knit together, too.

He grunts into your mouth, sensing you’re more than up for this after all. You let him see the full depth of your hunger and your lust, just waiting to be released and taken – made love to until you’re both sore and messy and limp.

God… This is better than God…

You hear whistles and whoos in the distance, some men yelling, “Let’s go!” and “Get a room” while they pass by. Realizing you’ve fallen into a dream trap of strong arms and needy lips about to depart tomorrow, you know it's something you could have had years ago, perhaps, but not anymore. You'll lose everything if you break your vows tonight: basically, you’ve already broken them, but no permanent damage has been done.

You can still turn back if you turn back now…

You push yourself away, push him away, heart clenching when you see his adoring, love-drunk, half-lidded stare.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, fighting back tears as you come down from your high. “I just–I can’t…”

He breathes labouriously, still clutching you against him, holding you in the air like you’re the thing he has searched for his entire life and now, finally discovered… Only to be told that he now has to put it back where he found it.

You’re crying by the time he sets you down, and you have no heart or will to pull away. Instead, you bury your face in his chest and cry your fill in his shirt. It’s soon damp from your tears as König hugs and supports you through his own stoic heartbreak.

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry…”

You repeat it until you can’t repeat it anymore, bawling in his chest while the world around you continues to spin despite your heaven and hell, despite your vows, despite your stupid devotion. The world revolves like it always has, as you choose a crucified man over the one who’s flesh and blood and holds you through your pain.

“Kätzchen, don’t cry,” he pets your hair while you sniffle and tremble in his embrace. You know this is not the last time you will cry your heart out over him, but knowing it doesn't help you when he offers you his last, bittersweet comfort.

“It was a good dream while it lasted...”

…

The rose withers in your cell.

You turn it upside down and tie it to the curtain rod to prevent it from dropping its petals. It dries beautifully and keeps its bloodred colour, now reminding you of both Jesus and him.

There hasn’t been a word from König in months, and of course there hasn’t. You denied his wish to write you, and the dried rose is the only thing left of your time with him.

In the first weeks, it’s hard to keep up a charade. You show up to prayer, work and mass with red eyes, revealing to everyone that you’re going through a loss of some sort. Somewhere during the first week, the abbess summons you to meet her and you brace yourself for a scolding.

God knows you don’t need the rebuke, and when you close the door and turn to face the symbolic mother of the convent, you end up breaking into tears right in front of her.

“Whatever you were up to, my child, I am glad that it is over now,” she says with all the gentleness of the world.

“Me too,” your voice breaks, and when the abbess extends her hands, you go to her, fall to your knees, and have another heartwrenching cry with your face in her lap.

You’ve denied yourself love and mercy for days, expecting to be expelled or shamed or ridiculed, but mercy is what you’re offered now, even after you’ve sinned.

The abbess caresses your hair just as softly as König did just days ago, and the fact that her kind gesture reminds you of some silly, infatuated soldier, only makes the breakdown worse. You bawl like a little child who’s deprived of candy, and you don’t even have the strength to berate yourself for it.

“I hope you haven’t done anything irredeemable...?”

“No... Nothing happened,” you sob and look out of the rose window, desperate for sun while your head rests on a gentle but distant lap.

Nothing happened except the most sinful, beautiful, lustful kiss of your life... Nothing happened except that you saw this man every time you could, held hands with him, swam in his smiles and affection, and went to bed with thoughts inappropriate for any human being.

“The world tests us in many ways... But Lord never tests us. He only loves us.”

Something in that sentence finally quenches the neverending flow of tears. Your muscles start to relax, and you remember that this is the eternal truth: to surrender, over and over again, to a power far greater than you.

The abbess never asks for details about what you have done. She never tells you you have sinned; you don’t need to be told that. The punishment has been dealt already: whoever ties herself to this world and its temptations will suffer exactly like this when the passion and excitement ends. The key to escaping its grip is to simply let go first, once and for all, surrender to the love of God, and trust that everything fill fall into place eventually.

“You must offer your mind and body to work now,” the motherly voice speaks above you. “Work, time and prayer will ease your pain.”

…

Work, time and prayer do ease the pain.

They ease all pains, but it takes almost six months to stop thinking about him every hour of every day.

You’re proud of yourself when you find out one day that you haven’t thought about him at all. He just now crossed your mind when you remember how he used to smell: of salty seabreeze mixed with intoxicating musk, the scent of excitement and safety all in one.

You could almost swear you catch a whiff of that particular scent in the yard when you go and water the flowers one evening, but it can’t be: he’s gone, and there’s nothing you can do about it, nothing you even want to do about it because you already made your choice. This path leads you to greater peace of mind in the long run, and you know you made the right decision even if it hurt you and König.

Sunsets still remind you of him, the colour of rose and gold mixed with endings, but the memories are now laced with bittersweet love rather than blunt despair and pain. The times you spent with him are a collection of brief, blissful moments, and you treasure every single one of them in your heart. You still pray for him, not every day, but nearly every day. You touch the rose when the hurt reaches its peak, but the last time you did that was almost a week ago.

And you thought you had forgotten his scent, but apparently, you have not. In fact, it seems to drift to your nose again, which is odd because you’re outside, after all…

“Kätzchen.”

A whisper is hissed from the shadows just as you’re about to straighten and investigate, because either you’re going crazy or then there’s someone here who smells exactly like him.

You startle and almost drop the watering can, staring straight into the shadows under your window. The tallest man you’ve ever seen steps out from the dark in full combat gear, and while you can’t see his face because it’s covered with a draping black hood, you recognize it’s him simply from the way he moves.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s me,” he rasps and tries to straighten from the slightly hunched position he’s in, but immediately falls back, then slants to lean on the wall. His gear is dirty, and he holds the side of his stomach with one hand, the lively blue eyes either drunk or very very tired.

“Dear God… What happened to you?”

You abandon the watering can and rush to him; it’s useless to ask if he’s injured when, clearly, he’s trying to prevent himself from slumping to the ground.

He’s enormous and intimidating even when wounded, a soldier loaded with ammo and weapons and protective paddings and guards, wearing a hood and a helmet and a radio of some sort, his tactical gloves bloody and eyes droopy. The weapon by his side is almost half as tall as you, and God – is that a grenade strapped to his vest?

“I got compromised,” König looks down at the wound but doesn’t remove his hand. He looks so different, like another man entirely when he’s not dressed in his customary olive green pants and a casual black t-shirt. He seems even buffier now, even taller, so terrifying that you wonder if you ever even knew this man.

You must look like a frightened deer because König mistakes your horrified look as sweet, simple concern.

“Don’t worry... They have it much worse, I assure you,” he says with his usual grin – you can hear it from the way he says it that he’s smiling. But it’s so weary now, so exhausted and frail compared to his confident, playful laughs and that husky voice with which he spoke to you after your kiss.

“I came to ask for help,” he continues under his breath, wobbling even when leaning against a wall. “You’re the only one I can… trust.”

“Of course, anything. I will do anything I can.”

His eyes smile down at you from behind the executioner’s veil. It’s that same devoted stare you’ve been trying to dispel for months now. You give yourself a quick mental shake, then tell him to wait here while you go in and call for an ambulance.

König bounces off the wall and seizes your hand, telling you he can’t go to a hospital and that, if anything, he must avoid any kind of public places. You don’t ask any further questions, even if you know you’re in a pickle now, and not only because those glacial eyes are making your knees weak again. There’s nothing much you can do: he’s wounded and still in danger, saying he can’t trust anyone else. Of course you have to help him in any way you can. If he says it’s not safe, then you must help him get somewhere where it is safe.

And besides, aren’t you a nun? You’re supposed to help those in need.

So when he asks you if there are any motels or a bed & breakfast nearby, you say you know just the place.

It makes your heart bleed that König takes support from you while you slowly make your way down the street. A man of his size, a body trained to withstand whatever his job throws at him, seeking support from a frail little nun… It’s a joke, indeed, and a horrid one.

When you get to the small place run by a humble old man, you don’t know who to feel more sorry for: the elder behind the counter or König, desperately trying to stay on his feet.

“I mean no trouble,” he says while pushing an unnerving amount of money across the table. “I just need a place to rest.”

The receptionist’s eyes dart to you, then back to König, who still has what you suppose is a loaded rifle dangling by his waist. The safety is on, probably, but there are also knives and grenades strapped to his person, and with that hood, he mainly looks like a terrorist of some sort.

“She’s here to help. See...? Bride of Christ. Even less trouble than I am.”

You try to smile reassuringly as the man risks a better look at you now instead of being fixated on König or his weapons.

You must make an odd pair, a soldier and a nun... The old man probably has a ton of questions in his head right now.

“No shooting,” he says to you, but his words are directed at König.

“No shooting,” he promises. “No mess if no one knows we’re here. Ok...? You’ve never even seen us.”

The receptionist nods. Then he extends a trembling hand and takes the money, and hands out a key without taking any check-in information.

You go to König and help him up the small stairs and into his room paid with bloody money and a menacing appearance. The fitted carpet is old, and floral patterned, the room small and adorable and meant for visitors far more petite than König. The bedspread is old-fashioned and floral too and has never even seen blood, of that you are sure when König lays himself down with a grunt.

You spend the next minutes – or hours, you can’t tell – in a tunnel-visioned fog as you do exactly as he says.

You help him out of his gear and weapons and lay them aside quickly but gently, you cut his shirt with an ugly-looking knife, then get a watered towel for him to press against the wound. You rush back to his tactical vest and search for a first aid kit and some medicine, and start to treat his wounds per his advice.

The sun sets in the window, and you patch up your injured soldier with care, trusting his word when he says it’s only a flesh wound and that it looks far worse than it is.

“I should get shot more often,” he purrs when you’re cleaning the rest of the blood off his skin.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scold, trying to focus on your task and not the vast plates that make his chest. Or the thick abs, right there under your fingertips… Or the fact that he has incredibly narrow hips, and a luscious breath of dark hair leading from his navel down and underneath the waistband of his pants.

You suppose this is what your friend calls a happy trail...

And it does make you very happy.

You don’t dare to look beyond that because the pants he usually wears aren’t as tight as these, and you fear he’ll catch you checking out his junk in an attempt to see if your friend was correct about his size.

To your blessing – or your curse – you don’t even have to look straight at it to see he’s having an erection. You can actually see from the corner of your eye how König grows hard while you’re treating him – it’s right there, a robust tent that rises beside you while you concentrate on wiping off the blood.

“Pay no mind to that,” he says thickly and completely without shame. “It just happens… Can’t control it.”

He breathes a bit too heavy for someone who’s lying down, and you fear it’s because of the blood loss. But then you start to suspect it’s probably because all the remaining blood has gone between his legs… He doesn’t even try to tone down the heated, obsessive stares he shoots your way, and you suppose he’s either missed you very much, or then there’s a fever rising after all. You’re not sure if you’re glad or disappointed that the bullet didn’t scrape his leg instead.

“I missed you,” he says like he just read your thoughts. He whispers the sentence slowly and with purpose, saying it like a long-withheld secret.

“I missed you too,” you whisper back.

Gosh… Here you are, a silly little nun who’s tried to get over a crush for six months, crying after him at night and caressing his rose during the day. You’ve been petting a withering flower some mercenary gave you in hopes of getting into your pants, you’ve fawned over memories of a few smiles and a kiss, all the while the said mercenary has killed people for money and now got shot. He came here to work again, but never sent a message, he only came to see you when he was injured…

...And you’re glad he did. If a bullet was needed to bring him back to you, then you’re grateful for it, no matter how horrible it is.

“Did you ever… find someone?” You ask while keeping your gaze fixed on his navel instead of the raging bulge in his pants.

“Someone, who?”

“Someone to hold hands with.”

He gives a strained laugh. “Ah. No. No time for that.”

You swallow, and slowly guide your eyes to his.

“Are you still happy with your crucified man?”

Ouch.

“I… I don’t know.”

His brows knit together; you can see it even in the dim light of the table lamp, you can see it even if there’s some godforsaken black war paint all over his face under that hood.

There’s a distant hurt in his eyes before he blinks softly, slowly.

“I wrote to you, Braut Christi... Many times. Never sent the letters… They’re still in my room, at the base.”

Your heart skips a beat.

He hasn’t had “time” for women, yet has written you letters all these months. He’s written letters while you’ve caressed a rose….

You wonder if hearts can find each other, even through a distance, and if you’ve felt the urge to go to the flower he gave you at the same time König has gotten the desire to write another letter to you. It’s bittersweet, like this whole thing between you two, the mystery that both brings you together and rips you apart.

“I wish I hadn’t… I wish I...” you start, but can’t bring yourself to finish.

“Liebling. I should’ve sent them anyway.”

You go get rid of the bloodied paper towels before you start to cry in front of him.

God… You’re not only in a pickle, you’re neck-deep in trouble, and you only notice you forgot to wash your hands when you return to him.

He reaches for your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. Peace settles in, even if there’s blood on your hands and the man you adore is lying next to you, patched up with the help of a first aid kit when he should be lying in a hospital, receiving treatment and care.

There’s a knife and a pistol tucked under the bedspread, next to his hand, and the fact that he’s still prepared to fight anyone who tries to come through that door underlines the fact that you two come from very different worlds. König is more than just a rose buying, coffee offering gentleman, he's more than just a silly guy who threatens to sing serenades under your window if you don’t come out to play with him.

You’re not sure if you’re more enamoured or scared.

“You’re an angel,” he rasps from the bed as you try to swallow the tears that refuse to go down.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

A teardrop falls on the innocent floral bedspread as you wish you were in this room as a married couple instead of an injured, horny soldier and a childish nun in love. Spending your honeymoon or something, getting some rest after an eventful day in town, choosing this absurd old Bed & Breakfast as your place to stay for the night.

You wish you were doing anything else than treating his wounds, lethal or not.

“Are you crying?”

His voice is gentler than you even remembered. Six months of despair have turned him into a dark, alluring trickster when he’s really just a man, a big, amazing, tender man who’s multifaceted, multitalented, and always kind.

He's about to fall asleep, and it’s no wonder. The events of the evening have left you drained, too. You kneel beside his bed, too tired to even sit on a chair, wondering if he’ll die from his wounds tonight or get hunted down by the people who still want him dead.

“I wish you would stop killing people... I wish you would stop getting killed.”

You must look silly, kneeling beside a giant soldier’s bed, crying and holding his hand between yours as if praying. But his eyes smile at you, and while you’d want nothing more than to see his face again, you realise you kind of like König this way. Masked and menacing and mean to his enemies, but stripped down to his soul when he’s with you.

“I wish you would stop praying... And start living,” he mutters gently.

“Praying helps sometimes,” you whisper.

In truth, you wish you’d start living, too. You always thought you were brave when you said ‘no’ to the world. Perhaps you were only running away from it…

The hand is warm but not feverish. His breaths start to even, and his lids get heavier; his thumb gives you a small caress before he drifts off to sleep.

“Perhaps that’s why I’m still here, Kätzchen.”

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