Gold and Wine

Chapter 5:

"You know it's rude to speak during mass," I reprimanded Adonis as he tailed behind me like a stranded child.

"It's not my fault that it's boring."

"You think you can do better?"

"I can do better, little Icarus. You seem to like my lessons very m-"

I grabbed his hand and pulled him into a hallway, staring at him angrily as I did so.

"You can't speak of that here, do you understand me?"

"So you did like it?"

"That's not the point, Adonis," I squeaked, trying to keep my voice low despite the overwhelming urge to scream at him and curse him to the stars.

"Do you know how many denominations would accept -"I trailed off, trying to find the word to best describe whatever this is...

"Us?"

"The concept, Adonis, the Concept," I regretted my words when I saw hurt flash in his eyes. I wanted it to, but I was torn. This entire mess, this whole affair, it was slowly starting to unravel me and now I was already losing my cool. I slumped, letting out an exasperated sigh. I was surprised, to say the least, when I felt two arms wrap around me, one looser than the other.

"Breathe, little Icarus, just breathe."

I couldn't help but comply to the softness of his voice, but it came with more than just breaths. I began to cry, one tear followed by many more and soon I was just a shaking mess in his arms. I wanted to be angry at him for reducing me to this, for causing this divergence from my faith but I couldn't. I couldn't, even for the life of me.

"Why do you stay here if you're scared."

"No other place," I panted between sobs, hiccuping as I did so. He rubbed my back, resting his chin against the hair of my head. 

"No other place," I repeated, gripping tightly onto his shirt.

"We can always run away," he suggested as though he was talking about the weather. I stiffened in his arms, looking up at him as though he was speaking some foreign language.

"But - we can't," I didn't know the justification, but I just couldn't. His eyes only added more questions and I could only shake my head, turning my face back down into his chest.

"I can't," I corrected, holding tightly on his shirt as though he would leave me for just saying that. Eventually, I pulled away, his hands didn't leave my body but followed the curve of my arms to my hands. They held tightly onto them, his thumbs tracing my knuckles.

"Can't or won't?"

I didn't know the answer to that, and he knew I didn't know it. The frustration was obvious in his eyes and he ground his teeth, the muscle in his jaw flexing. He let go of my hands, folding his behind his back as though he was trying not to touch me anymore. I wanted to reach out, but it felt as though there was a giant chasm between us. I needed to reach out, but I don't think he would've reciprocated.

"I-" he started, trailing off as he looked back down at the floor, "the guest rooms have been fixed so I'm moving there."

"What?"

"There were two rooms which were largely undamaged, so they sectioned off the damaged parts and I'm moving there."

"I'm sorry,"  I confessed reflexively. His eyes widened, but then slowly slacked as he let out a groan.

"Look, let's just..."

Again, he trailed off before finally looking back up at me, his eyes burning with a decision before he turned on his heel and left me in the cold hallway. I had done it, in just two days. I had created a chasm between my faith and myself, and now I lost the only person who had actually made me feel anything more than the plain day-to-day "agape".