IS LOVING HER A SIN? (Fem X fem reader) LGBTQ+ story

Chapter 3: The secret meeting.

Chapter 3: The Secret Meeting

The days after that Sunday dragged on slowly. Every moment at home, every forced prayer and dutiful chore, my mind drifted back to her. I didn't even know her name, but I couldn't stop thinking about the way her eyes lingered on mine, the small smile that haunted me every night. I started hoping—praying even—that I'd see her again. Maybe she'd come to the next Sunday service, maybe she'd be there in that same spot, and maybe... just maybe, she'd talk to me.

When Sunday finally came, I sat through the service with my heart pounding, barely able to focus on anything but the door. And sure enough, she was there. Sitting in the same pew, the sunlight catching her golden hair in that same perfect way. But something was different. There was an energy in the air, something tense and unspoken, and it wasn't until the end of the service, as people began to file out, that I realized why.

She didn't leave immediately. Instead, she lingered, turning her head toward me, her eyes holding a question, an invitation. My heart raced. She wanted to talk.

I got up, excusing myself from my mother's watchful gaze, slipping out the side door of the church. I felt her presence behind me, the soft scuffle of her shoes against the floor as she followed. I didn't know where I was going, but my legs moved on their own, leading us around the back of the church to a small, shaded courtyard. The sounds of the city faded into the background, and suddenly it was just us—alone.

I turned around to face her, my mouth dry, my hands trembling. There she was, standing just a few feet away, the light breeze catching her dress as she looked at me with those deep, curious eyes.

"You were staring at me," she said, her voice soft, but not accusing. There was a warmth in her tone, almost playful, like she already knew why.

"I... I'm sorry," I stammered, my cheeks flushing. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

She smiled—an actual smile this time, not just the hesitant one I'd seen in the church. It lit up her entire face, and suddenly everything felt lighter. "You didn't make me uncomfortable," she said, stepping a little closer. "In fact... I was hoping you'd talk to me."

I felt like I couldn't breathe. Was this really happening? I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but the words stuck in my throat. She was closer now, close enough that I could smell the faint scent of flowers on her, close enough that I could see the way her eyelashes fluttered when she blinked.

"What's your name?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

"Olivia," I managed to say. "And you?"

"María," she replied, her voice like a soft melody. "I've seen you at church before. You're new around here, right?"

I nodded, feeling a little less shaky now. "Yeah, we just moved here. My parents are... really religious." I didn't know why I added that last part, but I felt like she needed to know. Like maybe, if she understood that, she'd understand why I was so scared.

María nodded, her expression softening. "I figured. You looked... different, though. Like you didn't really want to be there."

I smiled, a small, sad smile. "I didn't."

For a moment, there was silence between us, but it wasn't awkward. It was heavy with meaning, with the things neither of us were saying. I could feel the tension between us, the electricity in the air, and I knew she could feel it too. There was something about this moment that felt like it would change everything.

"You're not like the other girls, are you?" María asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

I froze. My heart skipped a beat, and I swallowed hard. Did she know? Could she see right through me?

"I don't know what you mean," I said, but my voice shook, betraying me.

María took another step closer, and this time, there was no mistaking the way her eyes lingered on my lips, the way she studied me like she was trying to figure me out. "I think you do."

My pulse was racing now. I could feel the heat rising in my chest, my skin tingling under her gaze. "This... this isn't right," I whispered, but I didn't step back. I couldn't.

"Who says?" María's voice was soft, gentle. "The church? Our parents? They don't know us. They don't know what we feel."

I looked at her, my mind spinning. Everything I'd been taught, everything I'd tried to suppress for so long, was crashing down around me. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be feeling this. But the way she was looking at me... I didn't want to run. I didn't want to hide anymore.

María reached out, gently taking my hand in hers. Her touch was soft, warm, and it sent a shiver through my entire body. "You don't have to be afraid, Olivia. Not with me."

I looked down at our hands, intertwined now, and for the first time in a long time, I felt something other than fear. I felt safe. I looked back up at her, my heart in my throat, and whispered, "I don't want to be afraid anymore."

And just like that, in the quiet courtyard behind the church, away from prying eyes and judgment, we stood together. No words, no labels, just a connection that felt as inevitable as the sun setting in the distance. Whatever this was—whatever we were—I knew one thing for certain.

This was right.