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ᴛʜɪʀᴛᴇᴇɴ 𝐴 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔
❦
The flickering lights of warm, wax candles could barely light even the lightest of shadows within the vast, cold room. The icy coloured stone of the walls hid many caves and corners, turning them into the darkest shades of black, as deep as the night.
But despite all of it, the church never failed to make Maria feel safe.
Perhaps the world outside was simply too filled with horror to make the darkness seem scary. Perhaps the violence her brother caused had made her go insensitive and numb toward it all. Or, perhaps God truly was looking down on her, placing His comforting hand on her shoulder as soon as she crossed over the holy threshold, casting her in his angelic light. The light that Arthur Shelby could sense from anywhere.
"Arthur Shelby," she said as she stopped at the doors, glancing down toward where he sat on the very first pew, illuminated by the light of the candles.
"Miss Changretta," he replied, not turning to look at her, his jaw stiff as he held his tongue.
She walked slowly to his side, stopping at the end of the row. "Call me Maria, please."
"Things have changed."
"They only change if you let them. We don't have to."
"Oh, they've changed alright. You let them attack me. You lead them straight through an open door," Arthur said, keeping his voice so low that it was almost a growl. His arm reached out, gripping against the wood in front of his bowed head, leaning his weight against it.
"It was one of your own men who betrayed you," she said.
"Yeah. He's already been dealt with."
Maria finally st down beside him, stretching forward to place her hand on top of his, hiding his whitening knuckles with her olive-toned hands.
"Please, Arthur. I didn't want to cause any harm," she whispered.
Arthur paused for a moment, holding his breath. He could remember it all so well. The animalistic feeling of his face, the wide, angry eyes of his attacker as they beat down on him... the look of fear on Maria's face as she brought a paint bucket down to crash against the man's head. All to help him.
Arthur smiled slightly. "I know. That was a good hit."
Maria scowled, her face darkening more than he had ever seen. "Don't talk about that. Especially not here," she said. "The Lord may forgive us yet."
Arthur nodded, agreeing solemnly. Not only had he broke his good streak with his faith, but he'd also made Maria act out.
"I thought I asked you not to come back to this church?" she said, smiling lightly. He noticed her hand- it was still resting gently against his. Softly, he felt his thumb move, trailing down across her wrist and up to her fingertips.
