𝙰𝚄𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚁'𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙴

"You don't say much, do you?" he said when another beat of silence passed between us. I was half-sure he was intentionally waiting for me to say something first for a change.

"Sorry," I replied softly.

"I don't want you to apologise for it, I want to know why." His tone was very authoritative, and it made me wonder if he was used to getting all the answers he desired.

I swallowed again, looking back up at his face. "You intimidate me."

***

Harry was raised in a very strictly Catholic household; going to church every week and learning to pray from a young age. Under the Styles' roof, sex was forbidden until marriage, alcohol was poison, and he was only ever to look at women.

When Thistlewaite Manor, next door to the Styles' residence suddenly has new owners, Harry is instantly, curiously entranced by the son, Louis, with his biker leather and tattoos and charm and how he sneaks out every night, but he realises that they are nothing alike.

Harry is a virgin; a pure, softly-spoken soul who has never touched a drop of alcohol and always does as he's told. Louis has a potty-mouth, sponges off his rich parents, smokes cigarettes, gets drunk off straight bourbon and fucks like no tomorrow. A Catholic church is no place for a sinner like Louis, and yet Harry continues to wonder why he turns up every week.

But this only draws Harry closer to him, like a moth to a flame, tempting him with blasphemy, introducing him to the world his parents try so hard to protect him from.

And when Louis' devilish claws completely enrapture him, Harry can only pray that Father will forgive him for his sins...

***

• AUTHOR'S NOTE •

This story is not meant to harm or offend anyone. If you are religious and likely to take offence to mocking of Christianity/blasphemy, I'd recommend not reading this.

This story is my original work. Please do not plagiarise/translate/repost.