The parts of the boy that had already been claimed taught the virginal strands what the value was in a woman's moans, so close, especially one he'd dreamed of having for as long as he'd understood what the flesh wants. While his features didn't set in another way, looking at her, black rings rolled around his green irises, as though something was sharing in her image that he was taking in. His red lips were visited by his pink tongue, and it left the bent-out flesh glistening like she might be, at a secret mound. She would have the sensation of being watched, and seen, for all the things she felt. Her with Joe, who should have been with her sister, and the fire they'd wrapped themselves in every time they twirled with betrayal. Pelle looked fascinated, as though it was all a mural on her face, but the air around him, with his sweat and flesh heavy aroma, seemed to to understand better. And encourage. Part of him was endlessly old now, and wise to the secrets that her quim was screaming.<br/><br/>She was answering his hormones put in the air. The darkness let Pelle sample it, and he was shaken by how lovely it was. She had given him his first caramel, too, just a shard from her own, with his mother running in, infuriated since they didn't know his allergies yet. In the end there was no peril, but the memory was too old for him to still have. The plight had dug it out. "Why do you speak of Father Daniel, Maria?" he asked, vision bright and cheeks deeper, like he'd become a man in a blink. His canines looked longer, and it could have been shadows, but there were definitely fangs in his words. It was the boy who had started talking about the priest, after all. "Wouldn't you rather talk about Father mine?" the one your cunt so eagerly held on to?<br/><br/>Pelle looked around, amused, at the shadows that thickened. He smiled up at her, his sternum glistening in the tear of his clothes. "You're so unkind, Auntie." he said and deftly ran his hand through his hair, nonchalant, saturated with confidence at what a young body was worth to the world. He was heavier in her lap. "You used to hold me in your heart. You used to protect me." his thumb, with the moist from his brunette swell, slid over her terrified lower lip, to leave his flavor there. Then he proceeded to unbutton her collar and down. Well-shapen women. What a waste between such cheap clothes.<br/><br/>He'd gotten three buttons down when the priest made himself known with hard leather soles. "What is going on?" he demanded from beside the altar, and moved quickly to the two. He grabbed the boy by his arm, and the plight recognized the fingers of someone who'd expelled lesser demons. Pelle had his body back, and slid off her legs to his rear on the hard floor. He looked confused when he traced where the Father's grip had been.<br/><br/>"Padre." Pelle said, broken. There were tears in his eyes the same value of holy water. He also looked up at Hillie, and mouthed her title to him. She would be drawn to remember him as only a baby, then. "Will you take my confession? I need it." he continued, back to his first mission. Daniel reached for the boy, but his instincts had him recoil before he could help the child up.<br/><br/>"You're just being fussy. I have more important things to do than strike out your record all day, like the other young men. Just try to find a good way to deal with it." Cowardice, the sin not written, but the sin that had been burning this worlds since humans were granted power over themselves. A frustrated, heartbroken sound from Pelle's throat as he stood and nodded in defeat. He looked to her once before he hung his head and the light of the holy windows tried to touch him again.<br/><br/>"I..." he tried, eager to help himself out of this beach that poured its sands into the abyss. "I'll see you Sunday." Either of you.