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Streamlining Business Processes with PDQ Docs: The Future of Document Automation Software
In today’s fast-paced business world, companies are constantly looking for ways to improve efficiency, reduce errors, and save valuable time. One of the most significant advancements in business technology is the use of document automation software. PDQ Docs is a leading solution in this field, designed to automate and streamline document creation and management processes, enabling businesses to operate more efficiently. Whether you are a small business or a large corporation, PDQ Docs can revolutionize the way you handle documents.

What is Document Automation Software?
Document automation software refers to tools that enable businesses to create, edit, and manage documents automatically using pre-set templates and data input. Instead of manually generating each document from scratch, automation software allows you to streamline the process by populating templates with necessary information. This reduces the likelihood of human error, saves time, and increases consistency across documents. PDQ Docs is a prime example of how automation software can transform document management into a seamless process.
Why PDQ Docs is the Ideal Choice for Businesses
PDQ Docs is designed to handle a wide range of document types, from contracts and invoices to reports and proposals. What sets PDQ Docs apart is its ease of use and flexibility. The platform enables businesses to automate both simple and complex document generation tasks, adapting to the unique needs of any organization. Whether you need to create personalized documents for clients, generate internal reports, or maintain compliance, PDQ Docs provides a solution that fits.
Increase Efficiency and Productivity
The use of document automation software like PDQ Docs significantly improves operational efficiency. By automating repetitive and time-consuming tasks, employees can focus on higher-value work that requires their expertise. Instead of spending hours formatting and customizing documents, employees can rely on PDQ Docs to handle the routine aspects, speeding up document creation and reducing bottlenecks.
PDQ Docs also ensures that the correct documents are produced each time, following company standards and compliance requirements. This is particularly crucial for businesses that must adhere to strict regulations. With document automation, you can ensure that all documents meet legal and regulatory standards without the need for constant oversight.
The Future of Document Management with PDQ Docs
As businesses continue to evolve in the digital age, document automation will only become more essential. PDQ Docs provides a glimpse into the future of business document management, where automation, efficiency, and accuracy are prioritized. By adopting PDQ Docs, companies can save time, reduce costs, and improve the accuracy of their documents, ultimately enhancing their overall business operations.
In conclusion, document automation software like PDQ Docs is no longer just a luxury for businesses but a necessity. It simplifies document creation, reduces errors, and increases overall productivity. With its user-friendly interface, customizable templates, and seamless integration with other business systems, PDQ Docs is the perfect tool for businesses looking to streamline their document management processes. Whether you are in legal, finance, healthcare, or any other industry, PDQ Docs can help take your document workflows to the next level.
#document automation software#document management#workflow automation#automated document generation#document assembly#digital document solutions#contract management#legal document automation#template automation#document collaboration#document drafting tools#compliance automation#smart document creation#efficient document generation#centralized document management
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Shots fired by the Spider-man sequels.
Was ruminating on how Miles and Miguel are technically both 'Spider-man 2' in their respective universes. Got me thinking about the other Spider-successors in the cast, and also what if they all got matching T-shirts or something.

#Bringing back Peter’s ITSV insecurity from his mid-life spider-crisis to document his hard swerve into “dad & mentor” in real time#Miles is wearing a variation of the Hobie watch because I cant see post-ATSV Miles wearing a watch with Miguel's parental controls on it#Miguel is reading the instructions for assembling a couch from IKEA 2099#he has to build a new one for the breakroom b/c the last one died to T-rex butt#Basically I had an idea that involved learning how to draw Ben Reilly and jumped on it. His comic inking look is weirdly nostalgic for me.#my art#miles morales#ben reilly#miguel o'hara#mayday parker#scarlet spider#ultimate spider man#spider man 2099#spider girl#spider man#peter b parker#peter parker#across the spiderverse#atsv#may parker#into the spiderverse#atsv fanart#spider man: across the spider verse#miles morales prowler#prowler miles#miles 42#the cooler spider man#the cooler miles#that's not a bit he's just legitimately the cooler Miles#spider-man
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one of these days ill get around to collecting references and making my own set of cas poses. not today. not anytime soon. but one day.
#ive been putting it off for years now#i mean i have a small small small number that i made for grim a while back#but they were meant to be in-game poses and they dont work great in CAS tbh!#but i am so bad at thinking of poses off the top of my head so i will need to assemble a good ref document#one of these days.#im sure pinterest will make it quick work. normally i hate the site but it does seem uniquely tuned for this specific need#simoleon
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"after words: visual and experimental poetry in little mags and small presses, 1960-2025": exhibition and book
After Words: Visual and Experimental Poetry in Little Magazines and Small Presses, 1960-2025, (catalogue and exhibition), Curated by Steve Clay and M. C. Kinniburgh of Granary Press, The Grolier Club, New York, NY, April 23 – July 26, 2025 [from garadinervi & Granary Books] Clay, Steve and M.C. Kinniburgh: AFTER WORDS: VISUAL AND EXPERIMENTAL POETRY IN LITTLE MAGAZINES AND SMALL PRESSES,…

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#1960–2025#3913#7 Flowers Press#A: An Envelope Magazine of Visual Poetry#Abracadabra#After Words#After Words: Visual and Experimental Poetry in Little Magazines and Small Presses#Agentzia#Alcheringa#Anabasis#Anti-Isolation#Approches#AQ#Assembling#Asylum’s Press#avant-garde#Ayizan Press#“before your very eyes!”#Beach Books Texts & Documents#Beau Geste Press#Blank Tape#blewointment#blewointmentpress#bpNichol#Bulletin From Nothing#Burning Press#C Press#Cecilia Vicuña#Cenizas#Chax Press
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today i finally clocked how much coursework i actually have to do and yknow what it may actually be over
#music is 60% coursework(3 compositions 2 performances)#then 20% nea for electronics which sounds alright but its makin 2 whole ass systems from scratch#which. the one worth less marks *requires* me to program a chip using assembly language FUCK OFF!!!#with documentation too. idk what documentation means here but it scares me#and then computer science. also 20%. programming project with documentation do whatever the fuck u want as long as its up to standard#dude we looked at some example/past nea documentations. its like. my teacher literally said its like doing a dissertation#he brought out past ones and they were like wads of 100+ pages of nothing but code and graphs and testing and analysis and#all the programs themselves too were like. gravity simulator. machine learning teaching tool. what#what the fuck am i going to do#for any of this#it may be over. maybe
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sorry I forgot to touch my files for a month
Here’s an update: Star will probably be out this week👍
(Side note: I keep saying it’s starscream since that’s who I had in mind while making it but I realize since there’s no body the only difference between her and the other seekers is kinda just the color of their faces? So this could be any seeker I guess :p)



corrections on paperscream are almost done (pictures are form the 1st prototype) and if the assembly on that goes smoothly I’ll finally be able to make the template and svg available for download 🫶🫶🫶
but for now I’m running a small check on who the next character should be!
these would be available for free in the spirit of me making them cuz I can’t afford real ones lol. And also cuz they’re fun. Yay!
be nice to me and vote shockwave if shockwave wins I’ll make it a full body
#im 99.9% sure i wont have to make any major corrections so its just a matter of testing the assembly one last time#then arranging the printable documents and done!#reblog here since it seemed like you’d like to know skfjsb#papercraft#starscream#transformers#thundercracker#skywarp
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"A small group of activists assembled before dawn on a recent day in a South L.A. parking lot preparing to patrol the neighborhood. The gathering was not unlike what you see when police congregate in a parking lot preparing for a raid.
Only this time, the target was federal immigration agents.
The activists were from the Community Self Defense Coalition, which fights for immigrant rights. They were armed with two-way radios, bullhorns, and were trained to spot undercover vehicles from U.S Immigration and Customs Enforcement or the Department of Homeland Security.
The coalition formed in the wake of the second election of President Donald Trump and includes groups from across Los Angeles. They say their aim is to find ICE agents, alert the community to their presence using bullhorns, and drive them out of neighborhoods.
“They’re on our land. This is our territory,” said Ron Gochez of Unión del Barrio, which is part of the coalition. “Whatever they do here, they have to know they are going to meet an organized resistance.
“There is nowhere, there is no alleyway, no little corner of our city anywhere where an ICE raid can happen where we won’t know about it almost immediately,” he said.
An ICE spokesperson confirmed in a statement that agents have aborted at least one enforcement action “due to safety concerns brought on by protesters/bystanders.” The spokesperson declined to give his name “due to a heightened security risk to ICE employees.” ...
Tracking ICE
Last week, a high school history teacher, an ethnic studies instructor and a youth program leader were among the activists in South L.A. Nine people in three cars rolled into the darkened streets looking for ICE agents.
“We drive the streets of our neighborhood looking for anything suspicious,” said Gochez, a 43-year-old father and high school history teacher. "We start early in the morning because we know this is when ICE starts their operations.”
Gochez is a member of Unión del Barrio, one of the members of the coalition.
Unión del Barrio started the patrols in 2020 during a Biden Administration crackdown on unauthorized immigrants. The organization restarted the patrols over the past few weeks in response to the second Trump Administration.
On Wednesday, Gochez’s two-way radio crackled with the sound of a colleague checking in from another car on patrol.
“Copy. We are on Jefferson and Trinity. All clear,” she announced.
They looked for ICE vehicles – typically with heavily tinted windows, usually on an American made sedan or SUV, almost always with a cage in the back seat for detainees. Sometimes, the cars are parked sideways on a street in front of their target or grouped together in a grocery store parking lot.
Gochez said he and the other activists try to catch ICE agents in those lots as they gather before a raid.
“We try to catch them at that stage — that way we’re able to affect their plan and at the same time, we start alerting the community.”
When they find federal agents, they go into publicity mode.
“We go live on social media,” Gochez said. “We use our megaphone to alert the immediate community that ICE is present.”
In a recent Facebook Live post, Gochez can be seen speaking into a bullhorn across the street from where ICE agents appear to be conducting a raid.
“Everybody in this community, if you can hear me please do not come outside if you are undocumented,” he says on the video. “We have terrorists in our community.”
He implores people who are documented to come outside and support the protest.
Enforcing law vs defending community
Later, L.A. police officers confronted Gochez.
“We’re not interfering,” he told them.
“Yes you are,” responded an LAPD officer, who forced Gochez and the other protestors down the street.
The participation of city police officers appeared to violate L.A.’s sanctuary cities law, which prohibits police from cooperating or assisting ICE agents...
ICE backs off
As part of the coalition, Unión del Barrio has trained people from more than 50 other organizations to engage in similar patrols, including The National Lawyers Guild, Jewish Voice for Peace and The Peoples Struggle San Fernando Valley, according to Gochez.
It's unclear how many conduct regular patrols like Unión del Barrio does.
Gochez estimates his and other groups have intercepted ICE on about a dozen occasions. He said in some cases, ICE has backed off of a raid because of Unión del Barrio’s presence.
Cardona said ICE agents called off the raid when they were called out at the Target. “That one day, we knew we prevented several people from being detained and deported, their lives being uprooted.” ...
Union del Barrio urges people to use a text thread or to have some sort of a phone tree to alert each other about the presence of ICE in their neighborhoods. The group also has a hotline people can call if they spot ICE.
“We get calls from Uber drivers. We get calls from street vendors. We get calls from business owners and just everyday normal people who support the work that we do,” said Gochez, who refers to ICE detentions and arrests as the “kidnappings.”
“It is a kidnapping – no different from when they kidnapped Native Americans during the Indian Removal Act,” Gochez declared.
He said many of the calls to the coalition are false alarms, involving local agencies, like LAPD or the county Sheriff’s Department, conducting their own undercover operations. But the coalition is focused on the actions of federal immigration agents.
A new tactic
Experts said the tactic of patrolling for ICE is relatively new.
Mirian Martinez-Aranda, an associate professor of sociology at U.C. Irvine, said it lets members of immigrant communities know they are not alone.
“It's a new form in which immigrant communities and their supporters are finding a way to protect each other and to stand up for what's unfair and cruel,” Martinez-Aranda told LAist.
-via LAist, March 17, 2025
#united states#us politics#north america#immigration#deportation#immigrants#mass deportations#protests#la migra#resistance#fight back#activism#ice#ice raids#good news#hope
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new job orientation today Ive got anxiety and am wondering abt some things
- am I gonna make it through the week without accommodations
- how long until I crack and say the places name on tunglr
- will I have time to take my dog outside before I leave or do I need to be out of bed already for that to happen
#slept w my window open and it's chilly in here#okay wow i turned on a lamp and its already back up to 68° i shant last the summer in this room#but thts okay i wanna move real real bad#im gonna talk to my parents abt it as soon as this gig looks viable#if it's not gonna work they already know my intentions so idk if i need to say anything#okay i need to assemble shit for work#wonder if they can get online to verify my certification at place#bc i dont have a printed version of my certification idk what happened to it#but it's easy enough to verify online#okay.#food; id (done); documents; clothes; dog; morning stuff#food /#wax in the workplace#waxing philosophical
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Could I request where pierre and Kika forget their daughters school performance so while every other kid is going to their parents the daughter is just stood their waiting to the where the teacher had to call them and the daughter ignores them until they get home. I know it’s long sorry but if you could do it that would be great ❤️
Forgotten in the rain



The rain had started in a soft drizzle but quickly became a steady pour that drummed against the school’s windows. Inside the assembly hall, the walls echoed with the excited chatter of children and the proud applause of parents. Flashbulbs popped every few seconds as moms and dads documented every smile, every wave, every bow.
Except for one little girl who stood near the back of the room.
Yn clutched her damp paper certificate, its corners curling slightly. She had performed a poem about the seasons—her voice clear, her hands animated. Her teacher, Miss Carter, had told her she’d done wonderfully. The kind of performance that deserved a bouquet, a warm hug, a proud parent grinning from ear to ear. But instead, she stood alone, eyes scanning every adult that walked in, every couple that greeted their child with open arms.
Her dress was a soft pastel pink, chosen by her mother, Kika, two days ago. Her curly brown hair was pulled into two neat braids, and her small boots were now soaked at the soles from pacing near the entrance.
She looked at the clock again.
7:12 PM.
Miss Carter finally noticed the way Yn’s smile had faded. The teacher walked over with a kind smile, kneeling beside her.
"Sweetheart, are you still waiting for someone?"
Yn nodded silently. Her eyes were bright, but her jaw was set.
Miss Carter’s heart ached. "Do you want to come wait in my classroom while I call your parents?"
"Okay," Yn whispered.
---
Pierre glanced at his phone as he sank deeper into the couch, his legs stretched over the coffee table. "Did we ever finish that bottle of wine from last week?"
"The red one? Yeah, I think I did on Tuesday," Kika replied from the kitchen, reaching for a handful of olives.
Pierre sighed dramatically. "We’re such adults. Drinking wine on a Tuesday night."
Kika chuckled, walking into the living room. "What time is it?"
"Just past seven. Why?"
She froze.
Pierre noticed it immediately. "What?"
"Pierre."
"What?"
"Oh my god, Yn’s school performance."
He shot up. "Shit."
She grabbed her phone, nearly fumbling it in her panic. Two missed calls. One voicemail.
"It’s Miss Carter," she said, already pressing play.
Pierre ran a hand through his hair, groaning. "We’re the worst parents."
The message played:
"Hi, this is Miss Carter from Willowbrook Primary. I just wanted to check in—it’s a little past seven, and Yn is still here. She had such a wonderful performance tonight, but it seems no one came to pick her up. I’ll keep her in my classroom until you arrive. Please give me a call back."
Kika was already pulling on her coat. "Let’s go."
---
The ride to the school was painfully silent. Pierre kept glancing at the clock, tapping the steering wheel. Kika sat with her arms crossed, her foot bouncing with guilt.
They found Miss Carter standing by the school doors, holding an umbrella over Yn.
Yn wasn’t crying. She wasn’t pouting. She wasn’t doing anything. She simply stood there, looking small and still, like a little statue in a rainstorm.
When she saw them, her face didn’t light up.
Pierre jumped out first. "Baby, I’m so sorry—"
She didn’t move toward him.
Kika tried. "Yn, we—"
But the child just turned back to Miss Carter. "Thank you for waiting with me."
Miss Carter smiled gently. "You were very brave, sweetheart. I’m proud of you."
Pierre stepped forward, his voice barely above a whisper. "Can we take you home now, bébé?"
Yn gave a tiny nod and walked toward the car without saying another word.
---
The drive home was colder than the rain outside. Kika turned to speak a few times but couldn’t find the right words. Pierre tried to hold Yn’s hand, but she pulled it away slowly, not harshly, but pointedly.
Once they arrived home, Yn unbuckled her seatbelt herself, climbed out, and walked straight into the house.
Pierre and Kika followed.
"Yn, baby, please, talk to us," Kika pleaded, dropping her keys on the counter.
Yn headed straight for her room.
"Sweetheart," Pierre tried, his voice cracking.
No response. She closed her door behind her with a quiet finality.
Kika sat on the couch, hands covering her face. "I feel like I just broke her heart."
Pierre sat beside her, shoulders slumped. "We really messed up."
"It wasn’t just a show, Pierre. She told us every day this week. She made invitations. She left them on the fridge."
He closed his eyes. "And we just... forgot."
They didn’t sleep much that night.
---
The next morning, Pierre was already in the kitchen by 6:30, trying to make pancakes the way Yn liked them—thin, buttery, with a swirl of strawberry syrup in a heart shape. Kika was chopping fruit, glancing at the hallway every few minutes.
At 7:10, the door creaked open.
Yn walked in, dressed in her school uniform, backpack already on. She looked fresh and neat, as if nothing had happened.
"Good morning," Kika tried, voice careful.
"Hi," Yn replied without looking at them. She opened the fridge, grabbed her lunchbox, and set it in her bag.
"We made you pancakes," Pierre offered.
"I’m not hungry."
The rejection hit harder than expected.
"Yn," Kika tried again, kneeling down, "we are so, so sorry. There’s no excuse. We forgot something really important, and you didn’t deserve that."
Yn met her eyes. "You didn’t come. Everyone else had someone. Even Noah’s dad came, and he works at the hospital."
Pierre approached slowly. "We know. And we feel awful."
"You always say I’m the most important thing," she whispered. "But you forgot me."
Kika’s eyes filled with tears. "You are the most important thing, baby girl. We just—our brains were stupid. We got busy, and we didn’t write it down, and that’s not your fault. It’s ours."
Pierre knelt beside her. "We hurt your feelings. And we’re not asking you to forgive us today. But we want you to know we’re sorry. And we’re going to do better."
Yn looked at both of them, her lips trembling.
"I stood in the rain by myself," she murmured.
"I know, mon coeur. I know," Pierre said, hugging her gently. "And it breaks me."
Finally, Yn leaned into him.
Kika joined the embrace, holding them both tightly. "We love you more than anything."
"Even more than the red wine?" Yn asked, voice muffled in Pierre’s chest.
Pierre laughed through a sniffle. "A thousand times more."
"Even more than your phone, Mama?"
Kika smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "So much more. You’re my whole heart."
Yn finally smiled.
"Can I still have pancakes?"
Pierre stood. "Absolutely. Even if we’re late to school, pancakes are happening."
As they sat together at the table, the storm from the night before seemed to pass, replaced by the simple warmth of shared forgiveness, strawberry syrup, and a heart-shaped apology made of batter.
And from that day on, every calendar in their house—paper, digital, and even the whiteboard on the fridge—had one line written across the top:
"Yn comes first. Always."
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.
-🤍🦢
#f1 drivers as fathers#formula 1#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#formula 1 x reader#pierre gasly x kika gomez#pierre gasly x daughter!reader#pierre gasly x reader#dad!pierre gasly#gasly!reader#mom!kika gomez#f1 x daughter!reader#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#max verstappen x reader#oscar piastri x reader#george russell x reader#alex albon x reader#lando norris x reader#being forgotten#thank you miss carter
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Document Generation Software for Law Firms to boost productivity and save time
Legal professionals handle wide-ranging types of documents daily such as contracts, estate planning documents, court filings, client communications, and many more. Drafting each document manually will be time-consuming and can be prone to errors. Document automation software for law firms can reduce this burden by simplifying the document creation process. It will significantly reduce manual effort while bringing accuracy, consistency, and efficiency.
Innovative Desktop Software for Document Generation
Efficient document management is essential for productivity, compliance, and security. This robust Document Management System (DMS) serves as a centralized platform for storing, sharing, tracking, and managing documents. Without an efficient DMS, law professionals often find themselves bogged down by manual tasks, which can hinder productivity and impede business growth. Whether you’re a solo practitioner, a small business owner, or a legal professional, this software provides an innovative solution designed to streamline document creation and enhance workflow efficiency.
Why Choose PDQDocs?
PDQDocs is a user-friendly document generation software for law firms originally developed for estate planning but has since found applications across various industries. It’s especially beneficial for law firms and small businesses offering powerful automation, centralized management, and an intuitive interface.

Tailored for Law Firms
While it is advantageous for various small businesses, it is particularly well-suited for law firms. With over 40 years of software experience combined with 30 years of legal expertise, it meets the unique needs of legal practitioners by automating legal document creation and minimizing administrative burdens.
Enhance efficiency in Law Firms
Legal professionals handle a vast array of documents daily, from contracts to court filings. Manually drafting each document is not only time-consuming but also prone to errors. This software reduces this burden by allowing attorneys to automate document creation, which enhances efficiency and client satisfaction.
Streamlining of Document Creation
PDQDocs, a flawless document generation software for law firms enables businesses to create unlimited document templates and automatically generate documents while maintaining both accuracy and efficiency. Whether drafting contracts, legal agreements, or other essential documents, this software simplifies the process and reduces repetitive work.
Advanced Automation Features
Designed to minimize manual effort, it allows users to leverage pre-set templates and input data to generate complete documents in seconds. This level of automation frees up valuable time, enabling businesses to concentrate on strategic tasks that drive revenue and growth. It is designed for all business owners and legal professionals, regardless of technical expertise. Its intuitive interface allows users to navigate the software effortlessly, maximizing its benefits from day one without the need for extensive training.
Managing Documents Centrally
Managing multiple clients and projects can be overwhelming. It offers a centralized document storage system where users can easily store, edit, retrieve, and share documents. The ability to email documents directly from the platform further enhances workflow efficiency, ensuring smooth communication.
#document generation software for law firms#legal document generation#law firm document management#contract generation software#legal document creation#document assembly software#legal tech for law firms#law firm workflow automation#legal document templates#document collaboration tools for law firms
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My goal for today is to assemble all my current writing, without notes, into a single document, and then print that document out for assemble in a binder.
I did not expect this to be this scary. It feels like I'm making it Real.
Current word count is 37,000. The earlier sections will definitely need some touching up. So Im expecting 60-75K by the first complete draft.
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New York lawmakers proposed three new bills last week that would make it difficult for wage theft violators to conduct business in the state. The legislation would bolster the power of state agencies to crack down on wage theft by stripping violators of their liquor licenses or business licenses, as well as issuing stop-work orders against them. The legislation was prompted by reports of rampant wage theft against New York workers, including two investigations published by Documented and ProPublica. The stories revealed that more than 127,000 New Yorkers have been victims of wage theft during a recent five-year period, but that the New York State Department of Labor was unable to recover $79 million in back wages owed to the workers. The stories were based on an analysis of two databases of wage theft violations obtained from the U.S. and New York Labor departments. The databases provided previously unreported details on how much money had been stolen from workers and also shed light on which businesses had committed wage theft. “We knew from our conversations with labor and from our constituent service caseload that wage theft is a chronic problem,” said Sen. Jessica Ramos, a Democrat who sponsored the legislation. “We did not have the data to understand the scale of the issue in New York state until the ProPublica and Documented series came out last year. Having this reporting as a tool set us up to put this package together and focused our attention on” the capacity of the Department of Labor. The legislation — dubbed the “wage theft deterrence package” by lawmakers — includes three bills, which are co-sponsored in the State Assembly by Assembly members Kenny Burgos, Harvey Epstein and Linda Rosenthal.
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Crowley: You will be responsible for the late-night patrol, ensuring the safety of our students. As for your morning routine… hmm, I’d say you should check on the Ramshackle Prefect and Grim frequently.
Mother: ...
Crowley: Every student at Night Raven College can be like your child. Of course, you must know your boundaries.
Mother: ...
Crowley: *sigh* Oh, how I wish you could talk. I have no idea what you're thinking or if you like anything I say— Oh! I have an idea! Do you know how to write, at least?
Mother: ...
Crowley: ...Is that a no?
Mother: ...
Mother: *places her hand on a blank document, covering it with her black goo*
Crowley: ...I see. Thank you for making a point.
Ace: Oi, Yuu! Are you crazy?!
Yuu: *hugs Mother, not minding the fact that they are being covered in her black substance*
Mother: ...
Ace: You're going to make your uniform dirty!
Yuu: Who cares?
Grim: Hey, hench-human! What does it feel like?
Yuu: She feels like cold slime.
Ace: ...
Yuu: Yeah—
Mother: *absorbs them into her body, earning a shriek from the two*
Ace: Hey! What do you think are you doing—
Yuu: *gets out, laughing*
Ace and Grim: ...
Riddle: *has been searching for Ace because he missed the assembly, as did Yuu and Grim*
Riddle: It's off with his head as soon as I see him!
Trey: Calm down, Riddle. I'm sure he didn't mean to be absent.
Cater: Uh, Trey-kun? I think 'Mother' is staring at us?
Trey: How would you know when she doesn't even have a face...
Cater: Hmm...
*Meanwhile, Ace, Yuu, and Grim giggle as they decide to play a prank on Riddle by hiding inside Mother.*
Ace: Lol! He can't really tell that we're here, huh?
Yuu: So if we want alone time, we can just go to Mother?
Grim: Mryaha! This will be our place then!
Ace: Huh? Wait. Mother? Why are you approaching them?
Mother: ...
Riddle: Hm? Is there something I can help you with?
Mother: *envelops him*
Trey and Cater: Riddle!
Riddle: Ah! Huh?
Ace, Yuu, and Grim: ...
Riddle: ...
Riddle: So this is where you're hiding?
Ace: ...
Ace: Haha... Mother kidnapped us. Right, guys?
Yuu and Grim: *nod intensely*
Riddle: ...
Riddle: *steps out, then comes back in*
Ace: ...
Riddle: Ace, I hope you're ready for a disciplinary action.
Ace: *sigh*
Ace: *frowns* Mother, you're a snitch.
#twisted wonderland#twst yuu#twst mother#twst ace#twst grim#twst riddle#twst trey#twst cater#twst crowley#twst void maiden
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I know it's super popular to say that Mydei spent a year fighting the Black Tide in Castrum Kremnos because of these two lines:
But, though it might make me a stick in the mud to point it out, the time and date systems in Amphoreus seem to actually be completely arbitrary, with random skips, chronological overlaps, and insertions (and removals) of time gaps that actually make no sense at all.
For example, in 3.2, Cerces states that Anaxa has only 14 days to live following the attack on the Grove that led to them being fused. At the time Anaxa came to Okhema after the Grove disaster in 3.1, Mydei was still in Okhema.
As of 3.3, we're told explicitly that the Citizen's Assembly, which took place on Anaxa's 14th day, has "just wrapped up."
So somehow Mydei has achieved Schrödinger's War, simultaneously fighting for a couple weeks and a whole change of the calendar year at the same time. 😂
In the very same patch that Hyacine claims it is Year 4932 (3.3), we're also told that Okhema fell to the Black Tide in Year 2147...
Nearly 2800 years off from the other supposed dates.
Originally I thought we had perhaps gotten our hands on a document from a previous cycle, but that doesn't make sense because A) the Trailblazer adds more names to this sheet as you encounter more "ghosts" and B) A new cycle would restart the year numbering.
In short, I wouldn't trust a single time, day, or year given to us inside Amphoreus--nor would I trust a single Amphorean character's experiences with time itself.
Clearly both actual time and the characters' perceptions of time's passage are being extremely warped by the technology at play in Amphoreus, to the point that I think we're supposed to see it as almost eerie: None of the Amphorean cast seems to be able to recognize the inconsistencies of the time and space around them, nor do they ever seem capable of truly reflecting on the inconsistencies of their memories even when they acknowledge that there are inconsistencies.
We're in the Black Mirror, my dudes, and none of the "people" around us even recognize their own unreality.
Amphoreus is a horror story, for real for real.
#honkai star rail#amphoreus#amphoreus meta#3.3 spoilers#hsr spoilers#mydei#hyacine#I guess I don't need to tag for spoilers anymore but#if you haven't finished 3.3 that readable is a big one lol
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Ad-tech targeting is an existential threat

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me TORONTO on SUNDAY (Feb 23) at Another Story Books, and in NYC on WEDNESDAY (26 Feb) with JOHN HODGMAN. More tour dates here.
The commercial surveillance industry is almost totally unregulated. Data brokers, ad-tech, and everyone in between – they harvest, store, analyze, sell and rent every intimate, sensitive, potentially compromising fact about your life.
Late last year, I testified at a Consumer Finance Protection Bureau hearing about a proposed new rule to kill off data brokers, who are the lynchpin of the industry:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/16/the-second-best-time-is-now/#the-point-of-a-system-is-what-it-does
The other witnesses were fascinating – and chilling, There was a lawyer from the AARP who explained how data-brokers would let you target ads to categories like "seniors with dementia." Then there was someone from the Pentagon, discussing how anyone could do an ad-buy targeting "people enlisted in the armed forces who have gambling problems." Sure, I thought, and you don't even need these explicit categories: if you served an ad to "people 25-40 with Ivy League/Big Ten law or political science degrees within 5 miles of Congress," you could serve an ad with a malicious payload to every Congressional staffer.
Now, that's just the data brokers. The real action is in ad-tech, a sector dominated by two giant companies, Meta and Google. These companies claim that they are better than the unregulated data-broker cowboys at the bottom of the food-chain. They say they're responsible wielders of unregulated monopoly surveillance power. Reader, they are not.
Meta has been repeatedly caught offering ad-targeting like "depressed teenagers" (great for your next incel recruiting drive):
https://www.technologyreview.com/2017/05/01/105987/is-facebook-targeting-ads-at-sad-teens/
And Google? They just keep on getting caught with both hands in the creepy commercial surveillance cookie-jar. Today, Wired's Dell Cameron and Dhruv Mehrotra report on a way to use Google to target people with chronic illnesses, people in financial distress, and national security "decision makers":
https://www.wired.com/story/google-dv360-banned-audience-segments-national-security/
Google doesn't offer these categories itself, they just allow data-brokers to assemble them and offer them for sale via Google. Just as it's possible to generate a target of "Congressional staffers" by using location and education data, it's possible to target people with chronic illnesses based on things like whether they regularly travel to clinics that treat HIV, asthma, chronic pain, etc.
Google claims that this violates their policies, and that they have best-of-breed technical measures to prevent this from happening, but when Wired asked how this data-broker was able to sell these audiences – including people in menopause, or with "chronic pain, fibromyalgia, psoriasis, arthritis, high cholesterol, and hypertension" – Google did not reply.
The data broker in the report also sold access to people based on which medications they took (including Ambien), people who abuse opioids or are recovering from opioid addiction, people with endocrine disorders, and "contractors with access to restricted US defense-related technologies."
It's easy to see how these categories could enable blackmail, spear-phishing, scams, malvertising, and many other crimes that threaten individuals, groups, and the nation as a whole. The US Office of Naval Intelligence has already published details of how "anonymous" people targeted by ads can be identified:
https://www.odni.gov/files/ODNI/documents/assessments/ODNI-Declassified-Report-on-CAI-January2022.pdf
The most amazing part is how the 33,000 targeting segments came to public light: an activist just pretended to be an ad buyer, and the data-broker sent him the whole package, no questions asked. Johnny Ryan is a brilliant Irish privacy activist with the Irish Council for Civil Liberties. He created a fake data analytics website for a company that wasn't registered anywhere, then sent out a sales query to a brokerage (the brokerage isn't identified in the piece, to prevent bad actors from using it to attack targeted categories of people).
Foreign states, including China – a favorite boogeyman of the US national security establishment – can buy Google's data and target users based on Google ad-tech stack. In the past, Chinese spies have used malvertising – serving targeted ads loaded with malware – to attack their adversaries. Chinese firms spend billions every year to target ads to Americans:
https://www.nytimes.com/2024/03/06/business/google-meta-temu-shein.html
Google and Meta have no meaningful checks to prevent anyone from establishing a shell company that buys and targets ads with their services, and the data-brokers that feed into those services are even less well-protected against fraud and other malicious act.
All of this is only possible because Congress has failed to act on privacy since 1988. That's the year that Congress passed the Video Privacy Protection Act, which bans video store clerks from telling the newspapers which VHS cassettes you have at home. That's also the last time Congress passed a federal consumer privacy law:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Video_Privacy_Protection_Act
The legislative history of the VPPA is telling: it was passed after a newspaper published the leaked video-rental history of a far-right judge named Robert Bork, whom Reagan hoped to elevate to the Supreme Court. Bork failed his Senate confirmation hearings, but not because of his video rentals (he actually had pretty good taste in movies). Rather, it was because he was a Nixonite criminal and virulent loudmouth racist whose record was strewn with the most disgusting nonsense imaginable).
But the leak of Bork's video-rental history gave Congress the cold grue. His video rental history wasn't embarrassing, but it sure seemed like Congress had some stuff in its video-rental records that they didn't want voters finding out about. They beat all land-speed records in making it a crime to tell anyone what kind of movies they (and we) were watching.
And that was it. For 37 years, Congress has completely failed to pass another consumer privacy law. Which is how we got here – to this moment where you can target ads to suicidal teens, gambling addicted soldiers in Minuteman silos, grannies with Alzheimer's, and every Congressional staffer on the Hill.
Some people think the problem with mass surveillance is a kind of machine-driven, automated mind-control ray. They believe the self-aggrandizing claims of tech bros to have finally perfected the elusive mind-control ray, using big data and machine learning.
But you don't need to accept these outlandish claims – which come from Big Tech's sales literature, wherein they boast to potential advertisers that surveillance ads are devastatingly effective – to understand how and why this is harmful. If you're struggling with opioid addiction and I target an ad to you for a fake cure or rehab center, I haven't brainwashed you – I've just tricked you. We don't have to believe in mind-control to believe that targeted lies can cause unlimited harms.
And those harms are indeed grave. Stein's Law predicts that "anything that can't go on forever eventually stops." Congress's failure on privacy has put us all at risk – including Congress. It's only a matter of time until the commercial surveillance industry is responsible for a massive leak, targeted phishing campaign, or a ghastly national security incident involving Congress. Perhaps then we will get action.
In the meantime, the coalition of people whose problems can be blamed on the failure to update privacy law continues to grow. That coalition includes protesters whose identities were served up to cops, teenagers who were tracked to out-of-state abortion clinics, people of color who were discriminated against in hiring and lending, and anyone who's been harassed with deepfake porn:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/06/privacy-first/#but-not-just-privacy
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/20/privacy-first-second-third/#malvertising
Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg
CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en
#pluralistic#google#ad-tech#ad targeting#surveillance capitalism#vppa#video privacy protection act#mind-control rays#big tech#privacy#privacy first#surveillance advertising#behavioral advertising#data brokers#cfpb
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the bird | a.putellas x reader
You’re a model student at a religious boarding school, expected to uphold tradition, and never question the path laid out for you. But when Alexia Putellas moves to your boarding school for reasons unknown, you struggle to reconcile your religious devotion with the new, unfamiliar feelings you have for Alexia.
tags: troublestudent!Alexia, modelstudent!reader, angst, fluff, religious guilt, religious trauma, forbidden love, friends-to-lovers, slight slow burn, tension, school setting, eventual smut in preceding parts (will tag those parts) warnings / notes: will contain homophobic sentiments from other characters, religious themes that may be sensitive to some people (including questioning religious beliefs), alexia and reader are both around 19 years old
partially inspired by this request and also beyond salvage by @angelsforthenight (and my own religious experience lol)
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤchapter one 🕊 other chapters
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤPROLOGUE. The Bird.
“We have high expectations of you,” Sister Superior Philomena said, her voice measured and steady as she adjusted her glasses. She looked up briefly from the papers she was meticulously arranging. “And time and time again, you have not only met but surpassed those expectations.”
“Yes, sister,” you replied softly, your tone respectful and subdued. The nun offered a small, approving smile before neatly assembling a set of documents. You stood attentively, your posture impeccable—back straight, shoulders poised with quiet confidence.
Having been a student at Instituto Santa Eulalia Mártir since you were 8 years old, you had long since absorbed the institution's unspoken code of conduct. The perfect student carried themselves with pride but never arrogance. They spoke with clarity and conviction, yet knew the value of restraint. They displayed individuality and a strong sense of self but never had an overpowering, flamboyant personality. In just over a decade, you have become the embodiment of these ideals—a model student who was silent but not shy, strong but humble to a fault. You were practically a nun-in-the-making, as your peers have joked.
“These are the profiles of the new arrivals,” Sister Philomena said, sliding a slim file across the desk with deliberate care. “Five freshmen, a few sophomores, and one senior.”
You paused, eyebrows lifting slightly. “A senior?”
She inclined her head in confirmation. “Alexia Putellas Segura,” she said, tapping the topmost profile with her pen. “We rarely admit students at such a late stage, but this is an exception. She has transferred from one of our sister academies.”
Your gaze dropped to the profile. The photograph was of a brunette girl with striking features and soft hazel eyes, her expression neutral, almost guarded. As you scanned the page, nothing immediately stood out to you. “Sister, if I may ask—why has she transferred?”
Sister Philomena sighed, her hands folding neatly over the desk. “The reason, I’m afraid, is all too familiar. A troubled soul.” Her voice softened with a trace of pity. “As she is in your year, I have decided she will share a dormitory with you. I entrust you with the responsibility of guiding her, molding her into a student who reflects the values of this institution. Can I count on you for this?”
You nodded solemnly. “Yes, Sister.”
Your gaze returned to the photograph attached to the profile. You traced your fingers over the typed name – Alexia Putellas Segura.
You looked through her profile which had not much information about the girl aside from her age, address, and other basic data. Her grades seemed good and she seemed to be active in her extracurriculars. So, why is she here? What trouble did she get into?
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤACT I. The Arrow.
Alexia Putellas was more beautiful and captivating than you expected.
She stood taller than most of your peers which was made more intimidating since it was paired with some kind of silent confidence – tall, composed, self-assured. She was quiet but not shy. There was nothing hesitant about her; she was reserved but not shy. Her eyes, sharp and attentive, seemed to notice everything. And those eyes… you just could not get over how beautiful they were. A stunningly warm hazel with golden specks.
It would be an understatement to say that you were completely captivated by the sight of her.
“Okay, girls, let’s introduce ourselves by saying our names, nicknames, and favorite things to do in your free time.” The overenthusiastic novice Sister Catherine chirped in the new student orientation where you were present together with a couple of other seniors. “Let’s start with our current students!” Sister Catherine nodded at you. You smiled, trying to make eye contact with every new student but your eyes just kept drifting back to Alexia whose gaze felt too intense for your liking. You kept your hands clasped behind your back. “Good afternoon, new students.” You said before introducing your name. “I’m a senior. I serve as praepostor of the Dorm de Santa Rosa on the first level of this building. In my free time, I enjoy reading the Bible, embroidery, and volunteering in the library.”
Your words were met with polite nods, but as your gaze briefly flicked to Alexia, you noticed a faint smile curve her lips before she glanced down at her shoes. There was an entertained look in her eyes. You bit your lip, feeling suddenly conscious which you never felt before.
The introductions continued, but your attention was frustratingly divided. You could barely focus, your mind circling back to Alexia. The way she carried herself, the unreadable expressions on her face, even the firm, athletic build she possessed—it was all distracting in a way you didn’t know how to name.
When it was finally her turn, her voice was calm, low, and self-assured. “I’m Alexia Putellas. Senior,” she said, her gaze locking onto yours with unnerving directness. Something about the intensity of her eyes sent a shiver through you. “I, uh… like football.”
You nodded politely, managing a small smile. Football. That explained her build, her quiet confidence… the biceps that showed whenever she crossed her arms. But as your thoughts began to drift into admiration—or something more troubling—you caught yourself. I don’t think I should be looking at her like this. But… she’s just another girl. And I’m a girl too. Is it wrong to notice her this much?
Your internal scolding fizzled the moment she smiled at you again. It wasn’t much, just a fleeting expression, but it left you warm and inexplicably flustered. Whatever it was you were feeling, it unsettled you more than you cared to admit.
The other praepostors of the dorms had come to a unanimous decision: a pajama party would be the perfect way to introduce the new girls to life at Santa Eulalia. The event was meant to be lighthearted, a blend of camaraderie and tradition, designed to ease the newcomers into their new environment while showcasing the values of the institution.
You took the task of preparation seriously. Each welcome basket was carefully assembled with thought and precision, a reflection of the standards you upheld as a praepostor. Inside each basket, you included a neatly folded school shirt embroidered with the Instituto’s emblem, a new rosary with polished beads, a selection of prayer cards featuring saints and scripture verses, and a modest set of toiletries—simple but elegant. You even tied each basket with a satin ribbon in the school colors, a final touch of warmth and care.
The other dorm heads welcomed their respective new students, handing them their baskets and chatting enthusiastically. While you might have been the nun’s favorite student, you didn’t find it easy to relate and interact with fellow students. They all felt you were too cold, too uptight and rigid, even if you didn’t intend to. This just made it difficult for you to seem warm and open to the new student Alexia.
Usually, you could draw energy from the excitement of a group of new students but now, it was just you and Alexia. And, Alexia was more quiet than you expected. It wasn’t exactly easy to bounce your energy off of someone as guarded and calculated as you were.
You led her to the farthest room at the end of the hallway, where the two of you would be sharing the space. The room was meant to house four students, but over the past year, many had transferred to more secular academies, leaving several beds vacant. Alexia set her bag down with a deliberate air, and you handed her the welcome basket, trying to gauge her reaction.
She sat on the edge of the bed and began sifting through the contents with slow, deliberate movements. Her expression was unreadable as she picked up the prayer cards, flipping through them one by one. You noticed the faintest curve of her lips as she did so—a smile, but one you couldn’t quite decipher. Was she genuinely touched by the gesture? Or was it amusement at the pious simplicity of it all?
“Thanks,” she said at last, her voice low and restrained, yet not unkind.
You nodded, hesitating for a moment before sitting on the edge of your pristinely made bed across from hers “You’re welcome, Alexia.” You replied, carefully. Then, after a brief pause, you ventured. “So… you like football?”
She glanced up at you then, her hazel eyes momentarily meeting yours before she returned her attention to the basket. Something about the way she looked at you unsettled you, not in a bad way, but in a way that made you feel hyper aware of yourself. Alexia hummed. “Yeah, I do. I used to play as a midfielder in my old academy.”
You nodded, unsure of how to continue the conversation, knowing fully well it was off limits to ask “trouble students” why they ended up in the Institute. Alexia smiled, noticing your hesitation and. “And you? You like football?”
You nodded quickly. “If watching the girls play during sports week counts.”
She chuckled, a warm sound that made you relax slightly. “Of course, it counts.”
Silence followed, and you felt an awkward pressure to keep the conversation going. You’d already shared everything important on the walk to the dorm—school history, the names of the sisters she would encounter, and a rundown of the cafeteria food. What else was there to say? Ask her about her favorite Bible verse? That seemed…awkward.
“So, Alexia,” you said finally, grasping for a neutral topic, “do you like to read?”
She tilted her head thoughtfully. “I do, but probably not the same things you read.” “How do you know what I read?” You immediately worried it sounded defensive, so you glanced down, hoping it didn’t come across as rude.
She smiled, noticing your reaction. “Hmm, you mentioned you liked reading the Bible just a while ago so I assumed you mostly read that.”
“Oh,” You said softly. “Yes, I do…of course.”
Alexia’s smile lingered, but her gaze grew a touch more curious. “Are you, like, the president of our year level?”
You shook your head, grateful for the change in topic. “Oh no, there aren’t any presidents here. Just dormheads like me. We take care of dorm activities and…” You hesitated. “Yeah.. mostly that.”
Her lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. “And watch over troublemakers like me?”
You felt your cheeks warm. “Well, not exactly. We just remind everyone of the virtues we uphold in this academy.”
Her smile turned into a soft chuckle. “Don’t worry, monjita,” she said, her voice dropping into a playful tone as her lips curved into the faintest smirk. “I wouldn’t dare ruffle your feathers.” (trans. monjita – little nun)
You weren’t particularly close to other students. They always found you too uptight, too rigid, a perception that left you feeling isolated despite your good intentions. However, Ingrid was one of the few exceptions—a rare friend with whom you could talk easily. She was a year younger than you, yet she carried herself with a confidence and ease that often surpassed your own.
Having transferred from a sister school in Norway, Ingrid had quickly adapted to life at Santa Eulalia despite her initial struggles with Spanish and Catalan. Her cheerful demeanor and genuine kindness had endeared her to both students and staff, earning her the role of dorm head almost immediately after her arrival.
“Darling, have you tasted the cookies I baked with Maria?” Ingrid’s voice was as warm as the smile she wore, and she presented you with a basket of sugar cookies. “They’re actually decent, considering we had no idea what we were doing. Sister Cathy had to step in and save us.”
You winced slightly at the use of the nickname for the junior nun, knowing the more senior nuns would never approve of shortening their chosen names—it was far too casual for their liking. But you let it slide, worried that if you corrected her, you might come across as overly strict and risk alienating your one true friend.
“Ingrid, you should meet Alexia.” You said, stepping aside as you introduced the new student who was trailing behind you. Alexia politely smiled at the taller Norwegian, before offering her hand.
Ingrid’s expression immediately brightened as she extended her hand. “Alexia! You must be the girl from our other sister school. I came from a sister school as well… but from Norway.” She beamed warmly. “You’re lucky to be sharing the same room as the best dorm head this school has to offer.”
Your cheeks warmed at Ingrid’s exaggerated praise, and you offered her a shy, almost embarrassed smile.
Alexia smiled at Ingrid before carefully looking at you. “Seems like it.”
Something about the way Alexia looked at you made you feel exposed, and you quickly tried to shake off the awkwardness her gaze stirred in you. “Uh, Ingrid,” you began, trying to redirect the conversation. “Alexia plays football, too.”
Ingrid’s eyes lit up. “Does she? That’s fantastic! What position?”
You stepped back slightly, letting the two of them ease into the conversation. Alexia answered Ingrid’s questions with quiet confidence, and though her initial replies were short, you could see her slowly starting to open up. As you observed, you began to notice nuances about Alexia that hadn’t been apparent before.
She wasn’t just reserved—she was thoughtful, deliberate in the way she spoke and carried herself. When Ingrid asked a question, Alexia listened intently before replying, her answers polite and measured. Despite her firm demeanor, there was a gentleness in the way she engaged with Ingrid, an unspoken respect that made the interaction feel natural and unforced.
Watching them talk, you realized that Alexia wasn’t difficult to connect with because she was closed off, but because she paid attention—careful, almost wary attention—to the people around her. You couldn’t help but wonder how you exactly felt about being subject to her perception. What does she think when she looks at me?
The pajama party started getting rowdy as the night passed and the nuns retired to their quarters
And by rowdy, that just meant as rowdy as a Catholic, all-girls school sleepover could be. That just meant a bunch of girls laughing, eating sweets, and giggling over magazines or board games. Somewhere amidst the muted chatter, Ingrid, Alexia and you were somehow roped into a circle with the new students.
You noticed that most of the old students sitting with you in a circle were also the ones who transferred due to being “trouble students.” You, on the other hand, were the complete opposite; you were always made to be the example for the troubled students. It made you feel out of place, unsure of what stories you could share that wouldn’t sound out of step.
Anna, a sophomore with braces and a nervous smile, shifted in her seat before speaking. “My mom was done with me after I got caught skipping class to hang out at the arcade. I just… I didn’t want to say no to my friend, you know? But I guess it didn’t matter because we’re not even friends anymore now that I’m here.” Her words slowed as she reached the end, a flicker of sadness crossing her face. But then she perked up slightly, like she was willing herself to be optimistic. “Still, I don’t mind too much. It’s kinda nice, being away and meeting new people.”
The group cooed and broke into a silent chorus of murmured affirmation. As the circle’s de facto senior—and someone the younger students clearly looked up to—you felt compelled to step in.
“Anna,” You chimed in respectfully, your tone firm yet kind.“Just remember that the people you surround yourself with can really shape who you are.” You paused to let the words settle. You weren’t the most social person but you did give good advice. “Just remember Proverbs 13:30 – ‘walk with the wise and become wise, for a companion of fools suffers harms.’”
The group collectively nodded. You continued. “The right friends will lift you up and the wrong ones will pull you down. I know it’s tough starting fresh, but you’re in the right place to find people who will bring out the best in you.” You smiled at Anna whose eyes had softened.
Anna’s eyes softened, and for a moment, the circle felt lighter. The tension had dissipated, and even Ingrid offered a small, approving smile. But as you glanced at Alexia, you caught something else entirely — a faint, knowing smirk.
It was the kind of look that made you second-guess yourself, that made your pulse quicken in a way you couldn’t quite explain. Was she amused? Impressed? Mocking you? Her expressions always left you grasping for answers, and the more you tried to ignore them, the harder it became.
Before you could unravel it, Anna turned to Alexia, her curiosity unguarded. “So, Alexia… why are you here?” The question hung in the air. Alexia’s smirk faded, replaced by a flicker of hesitation.
You jumped in before she could respond. “Anna,” you said, careful to keep your tone even, “the sisters discourage us from asking about someone’s past unless they choose to share it. Alexia’s reasons are her own.”
Anna blinked, realizing her mistake. “Oh… I’m sorry,” she murmured.
You nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. “What’s more important is how we grow and learn from the past, and not fixate on the mistakes themselves.”
The circle seemed to accept this, returning to their quiet hum of chatter. Yet, deep down, you felt a pang of regret. You wanted to know why Alexia was here, too. It was the right thing to do, you told yourself—the sisters had made that clear. Still, the question lingered in your mind, refusing to be silenced.
What had brought her here? And why did it feel like the answer mattered more to you than it should?
As the chatter and laughter continued in the background, you found yourself retreating to the corner of the common room, more concerned with tidying up the scattered plates and cups than joining the conversation. Besides, as soon as the chatter turned into crushes and past boyfriends, you knew your presence was neither wanted nor important to the group. Growing up in the institute, relationships were foreign to you, a concept you understood but never experienced. Even if you were around the age other people got boyfriends or even crushes, you never really had anything remotely close to a relationship.
Even in the rare interactions with boys from the brother academy, no one had ever sparked that fluttering, heart-racing feeling you’d seen in movies or heard about in whispered gossip. It wasn’t for a lack of trying from the boys’ end. A lot of boys liked you; you’ve always caught the eyes of several peers from the brother academy. However, you were convinced that that was just because you were their mother’s dream daughter-in-law and they’ve hyped you up to their sons. Regardless of all the interest and attempts, no one piqued your interest. No one has even close to making you blush.
Suddenly, you felt a hand on the small of your back. The sensation sent a jolt through your body. “Not interested in girl talk, I see?”
The voice was low, smooth. You turned, and Alexia stood closer than expected. Her hazel eyes locked onto yours, her expression unreadable yet undeniably captivating. You froze for a moment, caught off guard by the nearness of her and the intensity of her gaze.
“Oh—Alexia,” you stammered, fumbling with a stack of plastic cups in your hands. “I didn’t see you there.”
Her lips quirked into a small smile. “You were pretty focused. What are you up to?”
“Just cleaning up,” you replied quickly, avoiding her eyes. “I can’t stand a mess, and I know everyone will be too tired to deal with it later.”
Alexia hummed thoughtfully. “Mind if I help?”
“Oh, no, it’s fine.” You shook your head, feeling your cheeks warm under her steady gaze. “I’m sure the others would appreciate your company more. Talking about crushes has to be more interesting than… this.”
She chuckled softly, her voice like a low ripple of amusement. “Honestly, cleaning up sounds better than hearing another story about some guy from one of the brother schools. It’s all the same anyway.”
You smiled. “Well, we make sure to recycle here. Same rules in our room apply here, which I already told you about.” You nodded. “But if you need assistance, just let me know.”
“Responsible and hands-on,” Alexia observed, picking up a pile of paper plates. Her tone was casual, but her eyes lingered on you, as if she were studying you. “No lucky guy’s noticed that about you yet?”
You sighed. “I’m not interested in relationships.” Your voice was quieter than intended.
“Ah, I see.” Alexia’s smirk turned playful. “So, you’re planning to actually become a nun, Monjita?” She leaned closer, her teasing tone wrapping around the pet name. “I bet you’d look cute in those headscarves, robes, and cross necklaces.”
Suddenly, you were getting flustered, blushing, and out of words. You opened your mouth to correct her — that they were called habits, not headscarves — but nothing coherent came out. You were way too flustered. Alexia’s smirk widened, clearly pleased by your reaction.
She chuckled. “So, you’ve really never had a crush?”
You paused then shook your head, barely meeting her eyes. “No, I don’t think so.” You peeked a look at the taller girl, seeing her put all the paper plates in the bin. “Probably wouldn’t like the feeling of having a crush, honestly.”
She arched an eyebrow, her gaze still fixed on you. “Interesting.” She continued stacking plates as if the conversation were the most natural thing in the world. “But if you’ve never had a crush, how would you even know what it feels like?”
The question lingered, heavier than you expected. You glanced at her, unsure of how to answer. “I don’t know, blushing and flustered whenever they look at you… intimidated and nervous around them? It just doesn’t seem appealing to me.” you admitted. “Maybe I just… haven’t met the right person.”
Alexia’s lips curved into a knowing smile, her eyes never leaving yours. “Maybe,” she said simply. “Or maybe you’re just not looking.”
Her words settled in the air between you. You gazed again at Alexia whose expression was unreadable. Before you could muster a response, she reached for the cups in your hands, her fingers brushing yours briefly.
“But enough about that,” she said lightly, breaking the tension. “I’m more interested in recycling than rehashing crushes.”
You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and nodded. Together, the two of you worked in silence, the background noise fading as the common room gradually emptied.
When the last of the mess was cleared and the others had gone to bed, you found yourself sitting beside Alexia on the worn-out couch. The quiet felt comfortable, though charged with something you couldn’t quite name.
After a moment, Alexia turned her head to look at you. “So…” She began, her voice softer now. “You didn’t answer my question earlier.”
You frowned, trying to recall. “What question?”
Her smirk returned, subtle and teasing. “Do you want to be a nun?”
You paused, deep in contemplation. You looked around, checking if anyone was within earshot. You hummed. “I used to,” You paused, fiddling with your thumbs. “But now… I don’t know. I’ve always loved God. I love the Church. I have always devoted my life to it…”
Alexia leaned forward, her gaze unwavering. “But…” Alexia asked gently, her tone coaxing yet patient.
You didn’t know why you felt so comfortable with someone you just met but it all felt so natural with Alexia. You’ve always been so guarded with other people, especially when it comes to your faith. But something about her… you just felt at peace. You couldn’t help but open up.
“I feel like there’s something missing in my life.” You said under your breath. “I pray to God, ask Him to tell me what’s missing in my life or why I haven’t felt fulfilled despite devoting and pouring my all to the Church…”
You trailed off, your voice faltering under the weight of your own vulnerability. When you dared to glance at her, you were met with a concerned expression that made your heart tighten.
“Alexia, I know it’s wrong to feel this way,” you said quickly as if trying to justify yourself. “I know I shouldn’t expect anything in return for my devotion, but sometimes — sometimes I just feel incomplete.”
The silence that followed was deafening, each second stretching longer than the last. You regretted speaking, regretted opening up. Maybe you had said too much. Maybe Alexia would think you were ungrateful, or worse, weak in your faith.
But then she spoke, her voice steady and kind. “Monjita,” she said softly, using the nickname again, but this time without the teasing edge. “You don’t have to defend yourself. I get it.”
Your eyes snapped to hers, and you were struck by the warmth in her gaze. In the dim light of the room, her hazel eyes seemed to glow, and the intensity of her soft expression sent a ripple of heat through you.
You bit your lip, trying to steady yourself. “You do?” you whispered, almost afraid to believe her.
She nodded, her lips curling into a faint, reassuring smile. “Sometimes… even when you give everything to something, it still doesn’t feel like enough. It doesn’t mean you’re doing anything wrong. It just means you’re human.”
Her words settled over you like a blanket, comforting but unfamiliar. You weren’t used to being seen like this, to someone understanding parts of you you hadn’t fully understood yourself.
The way Alexia looked at you then — steady, unblinking, as if you were the only thing that mattered in the room — made your breath hitch. Her gaze was different now, more intense, and it sent a rush of warmth through your chest.
You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your face was heating up. You tore your eyes away, focusing on the floor to compose yourself, but when you glanced back at her, she was still watching you with that same expression… but somehow, more intense. You swore that, for a moment, her eyes fluttered to her lips.
Your heart raced, and suddenly, you felt flustered all over again, the warmth in her gaze threatening to undo you completely. Uh oh.
As the weeks passed, you and Alexia found yourselves spending more and more time together — breakfasts, walking to class, hanging out between lectures, and even doing homework side by side. Alexia had a habit of accompanying you to the chapel during your daily rosary. She never prayed aloud, but she’d sit quietly beside you, her presence steady and unwavering.
Even if you spent so much time together, you still felt uneasy around Alexia. It wasn’t discomfort with Alexia herself, but with how she made you feel. You didn’t know what to make with the intensity of her gaze or the way she smiled at you. Mostly, you didn’t know what to make of the way she made you feel – heart racing, palms clammy, feeling overwhelmed by her presence.
You loved being around Alexia. She was kind and attentive in ways you’d never experienced before. She noticed the little things: how you tried to be modest with your breakfast portions and would slyly slide extra pancakes onto your plate when you finished. She’d reach for the high shelves in the library without you even asking, or patiently guide you through Spanish essays, her explanations both thorough and encouraging. You truly loved being with her.
But at the same time, you began to think that perhaps some distance would help. You needed clarity—time to pray, reflect, and ask God for guidance about the novel emotions that had taken root within you.
Luckily, Ingrid came in the clutch and invited Alexia to train with the school’s football team just to see how she would like it. Of course, Alexia agreed under the condition that you would watch her during her first time.
You acquiesced. This was supposed to be our time apart, you thought. But the idea of supporting Alexia made your resolve falter. After all, she had sat through countless rosary sessions just to be near you. Watching her play for a little while wouldn’t hurt, right? What could possibly go wrong?
But you were wrong.
Seeing Alexia on the field was something else entirely. The way she moved, so fluid and confident, was mesmerizing. The ball seemed like an extension of her, every pass, every run executed with effortless grace. Your cheeks warmed, even in the brisk wind, and your heart pounded despite sitting still on the cool grass. The feelings stirring within you didn’t just linger; they intensified.
Things got worse on your walk to the showers. Alexia was still radiating the heat of the match, her hair damp and her skin glowing from exertion. She walked close — too close — and the warmth of her presence made your head spin. You tried to create space, stepping slightly farther away, but Alexia noticed.
Alexia chuckled softly before linking her arms with yours, forcing you to be closer to her. “Why are you so far, monjita? Do I smell?” She teased.
No, you smell too good, actually…
“N-nothing,” You stumbled, voice barely above a whisper.
It was becoming apparent to Alexia just how flustered you got around her. She didn’t want to scare you off but she also found it so cute how you reacted and just how clueless you seemed to be about your own emotions.
It was just so endearing to her. She already thought you were beautiful from the moment she met you but it wasn’t just your appearance. It was your quiet kindness, your humility, and the way you so easily became flustered in her presence. It was utterly charming. And, to her surprise, she was beginning to develop a huge crush on you.
Of course, given the circumstances, she wasn’t entirely sure how to navigate those feelings. So, she figured the best approach was to tease you just enough to see if you’d slip up first. Which is why, as soon as the two of you entered the shower room, she decided to remove her shirt without a second thought.
Your eyes widened at the sight of your roommate’s uncovered torso. You quickly spun around, quietly gasping. Alexia smirked. “Alexia,” You croaked out, unable to keep the nervousness from your voice.
Alexia chuckled as she smirked. “What? You act like you’ve just seen a ghost…”
You stammered, your voice coming out in an embarrassed truth. “Uh, Alexia, you shouldn’t be removing your clothes in front of people like that.”
Alexia smiled, clearly enjoying the fact that you were flustered. “Monjita, I don’t see anything in the Bible that says anything bad about sports bras.” She teased with a light tone. “Though, didn’t Jesus say something about plucking out your eyes if you feel tempted?”
You drew in a shaky breath, desperately trying to compose yourself. “I… I just think it’s better if we keep a little more modesty,” you muttered, still not daring to turn around. You and Alexia often changed in your showers after bathing so this was the first time that you were seeing her so exposed.
Alexia took a step closer, and you could feel her presence behind you, the heat radiating from her still-warm skin. “If I’m making you uncomfortable, all you have to do is say so,” she said, her voice low and playful.
“It’s not that, I just—” you started but trailed off, heart hammering in your chest. Before you could finish, Alexia laughed softly and stepped into her shower stall, leaving you standing there, unsure whether you were relieved or even more nervous.
As the sound of water began to fill the room, she called out casually, “So… how’d I do out there? Be honest.”
You swallowed hard, trying to focus on her words rather than the strange, jittery feeling in your chest. “You did great,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. You cleared your throat to sound less meek. “You had such great control of the ball. I haven’t seen anyone play that good since Ingrid and Maria.”
She hummed, pleased with your response. “Gracias, monjita. That means a lot coming from you.” She said, her voice echoing.
Your light conversation soon fell silent as Alexia cleaned herself. You awkwardly lingered by the sinks, unable to get over the overwhelming awareness of her just a few feet away. Even if you two had showered at the same time, there were usually a bunch of other girls too. Now, it was silent – just you, Alexia, the sound of rippling water and the loudness of your thoughts. No chitter-chatter to distract you from the thought of Alexia…
You jumped as Alexia’s voice cut through the sound of water. “Uh..I forgot my towel outside,” she called out. “Mind handing it to me?”
You hesitated for a moment, silently willing your pulse to slow down. “Uh, sure,” you finally replied, moving to grab the towel.
When you turned to hand it to her, you kept your gaze averted. Her fingers brushed yours as she took the towel, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.
“Thank you,” Alexia said softly, her voice carrying an almost imperceptible edge of playfulness.
You nodded stiffly, retreating to your side of the room. Your mind was a blur of confusion, and for a brief moment, you thought about praying. But the truth was, you weren’t even sure what you were praying for anymore — clarity, calmness, or for these strange feelings to go away. One thing was certain, though: Alexia quickly became the center of your thoughts, no matter how hard you tried to focus elsewhere.
Even if Alexia loved your presence and loved your companionship, the experience at the boarding school was sometimes too much for her to handle.
When she first moved in with her grandparents, she never anticipated that her stay would eventually lead to being sent to a boarding school after an unpleasant experience. The thought of living away from her friends, her home, and access to decent football training had been unbearable at first. But then, she met you—a sweet, devout girl whose head seemed so deeply buried in the Bible that you didn’t even realize you were still in the closet.
Despite loving your presence, Alexia still felt like the school could be too much at times – the lackluster football program, the seemingly endless Bible lessons, the preachy talks, the relentless schedule, and the constant pressure to be a proper Catholic girl all the time. It was a big shift from being in a more liberal school.
In addition to all that, she just couldn’t reconcile the growing feelings she had for you with the way the nuns always seemed to lecture against those very feelings. It got too much.
So, when the weight of it all bore down on her, Alexia would sneak out in the dead of night while you were fast asleep. Wandering aimlessly around the campus grounds, she often ended up at the prayer garden nestled in the small forest near the school.
The quiet solace of the garden, with its canopy of stars and the hum of nature, offered her a much-needed escape from the pious expectations of her daily life. It was the one place where she could breathe without feeling judged, without having to be so guarded.
After a few successful midnight escapes, Alexia had grown more confident in her routine. Perhaps a little too confident. As she carefully climbed out of the window one night, the sound of her movements stirred you from your sleep.
“Alexia?” you murmured groggily, blinking at the shadowy figure moving by the window. You rubbed the sleepiness from your eyes as you saw your roommate with a cardigan thrown over her pajamas, practically half out of the window. “W-what are you doing?”
Alexia froze for a moment before turning to face you. “Monjita… hey,” she said softly, using the nickname that had inexplicably grown on you. “I was just going to the prayer garden…to destress.”
Rubbing your eyes, you sat up, still half-asleep. “The nuns will catch you,” you muttered, voice laced with drowsy concern. A yawn escaped her mouth. “They might punish you if they catch you.”
Alexia hesitated for a moment before offering you a small smile. “Maybe,” she admitted, “but I’m going anyway. And… if you’re worried, you could come with me.”
You blinked at her in confusion. “What?”
“Come with me,” she said, her hazel eyes sparkling “You’re in better standing with the nuns. If we get caught, they’ll go easier on us if you’re there. Besides, I could use the company.”
You bit your lip, torn between your better judgment and the strange pull of Alexia’s request. Alexia hummed before proceeding to step both feet out of the window, baiting you. After a moment of internal debate, you sighed and climbed out of bed. “Fine. But we need to be back before anyone notices, okay?”
Alexia’s grin was radiant as she reached for your hand. “Of course, monjita.” she whispered. “Now, come on.”
Your heart was beating so fast as you slipped out the window and into the dark of the night. If anyone heard your heart now, they would have thought you were robbing a bank by the way it thumped and thrashed in your chest. On the other hand, Alexia moved with confidence and no worries.
“Alexia, aren’t you afraid of night creatures… owls… foxes?” You asked as you and the other girl weaved your way through trees to make it to the prayer garden.
Alexia, who was leading the way, turned her head and flashed you a smile. “All God’s creations, right?” She teased. “Don’t worry, we’re not too far away, angel.”
That was another nickname Alexia liked to call you, which always got you flustered as well. Even now that you were fearing for your safety, you still felt your cheeks warm.
It wasn’t long before you both found yourself in the prayer garden, seated on makeshift benches crafted from large slabs of rocks. You always loved the prayer garden but at night, it transformed into something almost magical. The stars scattered across the sky like shimmering jewels, and the moon bathed everything below in its soft, silver glow.
As you gazed at Alexia, you couldn’t help but feel a little breathless. Under the moonlight, she looked ethereal—her skin glowing like porcelain, her dark eyes shadowed yet undeniably captivating. You quickly turned your gaze upward, trying to ground yourself.
“I come here at night when I feel overwhelmed,” Alexia said, her voice breaking the stillness. Her tone was unusually soft, vulnerable. Despite knowing Alexia for a while, she rarely talked too much about her emotions. She was rarely so open like this, which just made this experience more special.
“I just need to sit in silence,” she continued, her eyes fixed on the stars. “To look at the sky, the moon, hear the trees rustling. It’s… healing.”
You nodded silently, sensing there was more she wanted to say.
She sighed deeply, her words weighed down by emotion. “When I feel like the guilt is too much... like it’s drowning me, I come here. And for a moment, I can breathe again.”
The silence that followed was heavy but not uncomfortable. You looked up at the sky, your shoulder brushing lightly against hers. Normally, being so close to Alexia made you nervous, but tonight, in this shared stillness, you felt oddly at peace. The heart that was previously violently thrashing in your chest was now a consistent, steady beat.
After a moment of silence – just gazing at the stars and listening to the rustle of the trees, you broke the silence. “Can you believe our Creator? He made all of this — so vast, so beautiful. The stars, the trees, the world… it’s like proof of His greatness.” You gushed, feeling yourself grow appreciative of the world around you. You figured sneaking out was just a way for you to appreciate God’s creation in a different light.
Unbeknownst to you, Alexia wasn’t sharing the same train of thought. She sat quietly beside you, her gaze distant as she absorbed your words. After a moment, she spoke, her voice soft yet tinged with sadness. “Yes… but who created all the pain?”
Her question caught you off guard, and you turned to look at her, unsure how to respond. “What do you mean?”
Alexia met your gaze, her eyes glimmering with an unspoken ache. “If there’s a creator who made all this beauty, then who made all the suffering?”
The weight of her words settled heavily between you. You hesitated, your mind racing for an answer. “Maybe… maybe it’s not Him,” you said cautiously. “Maybe it’s humans, not him."
Alexia’s eyes didn’t leave yours, her expression unreadable. “Then why doesn’t he stop it?”
You faltered, unsure how to respond. You looked down, feeling the gravity of her question but unable to offer a clear answer. “Maybe… maybe it’s because we have free will. We have to face the consequences of what we do."
Her voice dropped to almost a whisper, the next words barely audible. “But… what if the way I was born is a sin? Does that mean I’m damned from the start?” she whispered. "What can I do then?"
Your heart stuttered, her words hitting you like a sudden blow. You didn’t fully understand what she meant, but you could feel the weight of her confession. It meant something to her — something big, something raw.
Your mouth opened, but no words came out. What did she mean? You searched her expression for clarity, for reassurance, but found only a vulnerability that left you speechless.
The silence that followed was heavy, almost suffocating. It wasn’t the first time that someone came to you with religious doubts and apprehensions. Typically, you handled it well but now, all you could do was keep your eyes glued on to Alexia’s hazel eyes.
She smiled weakly, her eyes glazed a bit, before looking up again at the stars. You paused, taking her presence in before mimicking her and looking up at the stars again.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ACT II. First All at Once, Then All Together.
After that night with Alexia at the prayer garden, you’ve grown more and more comfortable with her, spending practically every single waking moment with the girl. You became even more inseparable.
Sneaking out at night became a ritual, talking about everything and nothing. Sometimes, you’d open up about your religious upbringing. Sometimes, Alexia would share about her life outside the boarding school – telling you about all the shenanigans she got into. Other times, Alexia would be telling you about football rules and gameplay. (She practically spent an entire night explaining to you what offside was and you still were confused, unable to visualize it even after she explained using rocks and twigs.)
These days, you laughed a lot, more than you ever had in all your years combined inside the institute. It felt so freeing being with Alexia, opening up and just getting to laugh boisterously without being scolded.
Alexia loved seeing this side of you, growing more and more comfortable with her. She loved making you laugh, loved the way you made her laugh. But it wasn’t just the lighthearted moments she treasured—it was the quiet, vulnerable ones, too. Sometimes, she wanted to tell you everything about how she ended up at the school, but she always hesitated. A part of her wasn’t ready, unsure of how you’d react.
The downside of spending so much time with Alexia was that you were starting to fall behind on your dorm head duties. You managed the basics—leading morning prayers, fairly assigning chores, and organizing Bible study sessions every couple of weeks—but some responsibilities slipped through the cracks.
It wasn’t a big deal until you forgot to monitor the weather, failing to inform the nuns of an incoming storm. So, when a storm hit and the dorm lost power, all the batteries in the lamps and the flashlights had corroded and you were all forced to use candles.
Alexia, as always, was quick to help. She volunteered to search the storage closets for any working battery-powered lamps. While you rummaged under your bed for spare supplies, Alexia explored the rest of the room.
“Hmm…” Alexia hummed, cutting through the silence as you searched for the lights in your room which you were sure you stored under the bed. You turned around and could barely make out her figure in the dark.
“What is it?” You asked, still rummaging through the box under your bed.
“Jewelry and birds?” she said, her tone curious.
Confused, you turned to find Alexia sitting on the floor, flipping through your old sketchbook. Your eyes widened in horror. “Wait – Alexia!” You yelped.
Back when you were a freshman, an alumni visited the school to share her life as a jewelry designer. After which, for a year, you were convinced that jewelry designing was your passion, making several sketches of rings, necklaces, and other pieces. After filling an entire sketchbook of drawings, you figured that it was a ridiculous dream to have and quit your jewelry-making aspirations
The obsession with drawing birds… well, there wasn’t an explanation for that. You just liked birds somehow.
You tried to snatch the sketchbook from Alexia who held it away from you, a teasing grin on her face. “Relax, angel,” she said, thumbing through the pages. “You’re really talented. Did you design all these?”
You bit your lip, cheeks warming. “Well… yeah. But it’s not that creative. It’s just… birds and jewelry.”
Alexia frowned, shaking her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. This is amazing.” She stopped on a page depicting a necklace of a bird inside a cage. “This one especially. It’s beautiful.”
You tried to snatch the book again, but she pulled it away, her expression softening as she flipped through more pages. Her gaze lingered on darker drawings that littered the last few pages — birds with arrows through their hearts, birds lying lifeless, and cages that seemed impossibly small.
She finally closed the sketchbook, her expression unreadable. Without a word, she reached out and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her lap. You froze for a moment but eventually relaxed, adjusting yourself to sit more comfortably. Alexia held you like that, her warmth radiating through you. Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, as she spoke into your ear. “You don’t have to stay in the birdcage.”
You didn’t reply, but your arms tightened around her. Somehow, in that quiet moment, the message was clear. Yet, you said nothing.
After that night, Alexia had grown fond of hugging you.
Well, not just hugging, but holding your hand and brushing your hair with her fingertips. You never talked about what she said even if you felt like you wanted to, but you just knew you had some sort of silent and deeper understanding of each other since then.
The lingering fluttered feeling remained with Alexia but it soon dissipated into comfort. You’d let her hold your hand under the table during lunch. You’d let her hug you from behind and rest her head on your shoulder when you washed the dishes. On your end, you just loved being close to her, often offering to brush her hair and sort it into braids or other silly hairstyles.
The weather got colder and colder, making your nightly sneaking-out sessions impossible. Unfortunately, this meant that you were suddenly having a hard time sleeping. The walks and nights out talking provided you with a peace of mind that allowed you to sleep soundly after. Now, you felt like life was incomplete without it.
It was past midnight and you still couldn’t sleep, feeling anxious considering that you had to wake up earlier to prepare for First Friday mass. You already tried praying, counting sheep, and reciting Bible verses in your head but to no avail.
You sighed and turned again in your bed. The Catalan took notice of your restlessness and sat up slightly to glance over to your bed. The nightlight barely illuminated the room but it was obvious to her that you were still up.
“Angel,” she whispered, her voice soft but distinct in the quiet dormitory room. You turned around to see Alexia propping herself up in her bed. She smiled warmly at you. “Can’t sleep?”
You shook your head. “I’m having trouble,” you whispered back. “But, I’m sure I’ll drift off sooner or later.”
Alexia hummed and tilted her head thoughtfully, then lifted the edge of her blanket in a silent invitation. “You know,” she said lightly. “Sleeping next to someone is supposed to help. Something about oxytocin or whatever. It’s supposed to calm you down.”
You chuckled. “Suddenly, you’re a biologist?”
“Nah, just a cuddle scientist.” Alexia teased, her grin widening. “Come here. If it doesn’t work out, you can always just go back to your bed.”
You hesitated, your heart skipping for reasons you couldn’t quite place. The idea was harmless — just two friends sharing a bed — but something about the offer felt different, like stepping over an invisible line. Still, the way Alexia looked at you, patient and almost knowing, made it hard to say no.
Biting your lip, you slid out from under your covers. The cold floor sent a shiver up your feet as you tiptoed toward Alexia’s bed. She scooted back slightly to make room, her blanket still held open. You slid in carefully, the scent of her shampoo immediately enveloping you. The bed was as tiny as yours, forcing your bodies closer than you’d planned.
You laid stiffly, your back almost to the edge of the bed, careful not to be too close to her. You were too afraid that moving closer to her might just… be too intimate.
Just as you started to relax, Alexia’s hand slid over — tentative but deliberate — resting lightly on your waist, before settling flatly on the small of your back.
You jumped slightly at the sensation, but she didn’t let go. Instead, her fingers curled gently, tugging you closer until your body was flush against hers.
“You were about to fall off,” she murmured, her voice low but teasing. “Relax, Monjita. I won’t bite.”
Your cheeks burned, but you couldn’t find the words to protest. Alexia adjusted, slipping an arm under your neck and pulling you into her chest like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her steady heartbeat thrummed against your ear, and though it should’ve calmed you, it only made your own race faster.
Even if you and Alexia had become close, there was a newness, a different feeling to this interaction. It felt intimate and almost like crossing friendship boundaries.
“You’re so stiff,” she said after a moment, her tone light but edged with amusement. “What’s the big deal? Haven’t you ever hugged a friend before?”
You swallowed. “Not like this,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Alexia hummed softly in response, her breath warm against your hair. “Well,” she said, her voice dropping just slightly, “there’s a first time for everything.”
You paused, contemplating, before softly whispering again. “Alexia,” You started cautiously. “I never really had a best friend.”
She hummed, her free hand gently brushing through your hair in slow, comforting strokes. “Yeah?” she prompted, her tone curious but tender. “What about Ingrid?”
You shook your head. “I like Ingrid, but she’s not my best friend and I can’t completely open up to her,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever opened up to anyone. I’m always so scared… scared that they’ll hate me or judge me once they really know me. You're the only one I feel like I can open up to.”
Alexia scoffed softly, almost incredulously. “I don’t see how anyone could hate you, monjita,” she said, her voice laced with quiet affection.
You swallowed, your chest tightening. “I think some of them already do,” you murmured, the words tasting bitter as you let them out.
“I’ve always been so devoted to the Church, and sometimes… I think they see me as too pious, too preachy. I don’t think it’s a bad thing,” you added quickly, almost defensively. “But it’s made me someone they can’t trust. Like I’m just an extension of the nuns — someone they’ll never see as a real friend.”
Alexia chuckled warmly. “An extension of the nuns?”
You nodded. “Even you call me monjita.”
Alexia shook her head. “Well, yes,” she explained. “But not because I see you as an extension of the nuns. I just think you’d look so cute and adorable in those gigantic nun costumes they wear, and well, you’re as nice as a nun.”
You chuckled a bit but shook your head. “Still, people don’t see me beyond being the good girl, the praepostor… the person the nuns send them to whenever they have doubts about their faith.” You whispered. “Sometimes, I even forget who I am beyond that. Sometimes, I just let myself be who they think I am.”
Alexia’s hand didn’t falter as she hummed thoughtfully, her touch steady and grounding. “You shouldn’t do that to yourself,” she said simply, but there was something fierce in her voice, a quiet insistence that you weren’t sure how to process. “They can perceive you and they can judge you from just that but you shouldn’t let their perception define you.”
You hummed in thought, as you rested your hand on her chest, feeling her steady heartbeat. “It’s not just that,” you continued, the words spilling out now as though Alexia’s warmth had unlocked something deep inside you. “Even if they could see past that, I don’t think they’d like me once they really knew me, once they knew who I am beyond being the praepostor or the nun’s favorite.”
Her hand paused briefly, and when she spoke again, her voice was softer, more cautious. “What do you mean?”
You stared blankly at the wall, the weight of her question pressing on you. “I mean that I have my own doubts,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. “That I give advice, telling people to trust God and follow His word, that all your problems will wash away when you believe and pray but deep down, I… I’m not sure I believe it myself. Sometimes, I feel so trapped… like I’m living this life for everyone else, not for me.”
“Hmm?” Alexia said as if to signal for you to continue.
You bit your lip, hesitant to share your own feelings with Alexia. “I’ve lived my whole life here in the Institute. This is all I’ve known and I know a lot of the sisters went through the same thing and learned to love it…” You trailed off.
Alexia prodded. “But?”
You felt tears form in your eyes but you tried to stop yourself from letting yourself get even more emotional. “I want to see what life is like… beyond this.” You shared softly, almost too soft for anyone to hear. “Just see what I’m missing out on.”
You continued, “I want to laugh freely. I want to watch movies that just make me laugh or make me cry — movies not necessarily made to have a moral or a lesson or be about a biblical character. I want to eat junk food and indulge in sweets without feeling like I’ve turned into a massive glutton. I don’t want to feel guilty for wanting a third pancake.”
Alexia chuckled softly at that, her mind flashing back to mornings in the dining hall when she’d see you dutifully pick at bland green beans, leaving the pancakes untouched for the younger girls.
“I want to do things other normal people our age do,” You continued. “I want to go drink recreationally and dance with people I don’t know. I wanna know what I’d look like with lots of makeup and those big lashes. I want to swim in a tiny swimsuit, even if it feels weird riding up your—”
Alexia laughed out loud at that, the sound warm and unguarded, and you couldn’t help but smile. Her amusement encouraged you, made you feel safe enough to keep going.
Taking a deep breath, you continued, “I want to fall in love,” you said, the words trembling on your lips. “Really fall in love. I want to go on a date, get flowers, share drinks. I want to kiss someone… not a polite little peck on the cheek. I mean really kiss, feel something. I want to know what it’s like to be loved and love beyond… beyond religious devotion.”
Suddenly, you fell silent, gulping as you allowed yourself to calm down again. Alexia hummed lowly as she continued to brush your hair. You stayed silent, waiting for Alexia to speak but she didn't, simply continuing to brush the pads of her fingers against you.
When she finally spoke, her voice was soft but steady. “You must think I’m a hypocrite,” you said, preempting her, your voice brittle with doubt.
“No, no, of course not, cariño.” She said immediately with a tender but firm voice. “I think what you’re feeling is natural.”
Another pause. You nuzzled closer to her instinctively, seeking comfort in the steady warmth of her touch. Alexia sighed softly, her breath ruffling your hair. “Having doubts, wanting these things… it doesn’t make you bad,” she murmured. “It makes you human. We all want love. And that’s okay, monjita.”
Her words settled over you, comforting but unfamiliar, as though you weren’t sure you deserved to hear them. You turned your head slightly, meeting her gaze. There was no judgment in her beautiful, hazel eyes — just patience, warmth, and something else you couldn’t quite name.
“But what if it’s more than just doubts?” you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of your fear. “What if… what if I can’t actually be what they expect me to be? What if I just break?”
Alexia’s free hand moved to your cheek, her thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Then maybe it’s time to stop living for their expectations,” she said, her voice firm yet impossibly gentle. “You don’t have to be what they want. You only have one life and you deserve to live for yourself, angel.”
Your eyes locked together and you started feeling the weight in your heart be replaced by something new. You felt the energy between you two shift into an unfamiliar feeling you couldn’t put a finger on. There was a warmth between you two — a growing comfort and familiarity — but there was also the feeling of something ominous unraveling. You couldn’t tell what it was; it was something you’ve never known before.
And as soon as you felt your eyes flicker to Alexia’s lips — pink and lush, parted slightly as she stuck her tongue out to wet them, how they were impossibly close — you knew.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ACT III. We Can’t Really Help Who We Are
After that night cuddling with Alexia, you lied and said you preferred sleeping in your own bed, even if truthfully you’ve never slept better than you had wrapped around in her arms.
You’ve also let her hands awkwardly hang between you, brushing against yours to signal for you to take them. Instead of locking hands like you usually did, you’d cross them across your chest and avert your gaze.
When she’d try to wrap you in a back hug from behind, you’d find some excuse to slip away. “I need to re-fold my clothes,” you’d mumble, or, “I should check with Sister Catherine about something in the dormitory,” leaving her standing there, arms left empty.
More recently, you’d taken to pretending to be asleep, tucked into bed as early as nine in the evening, just to avoid those late-night conversations with her — the ones where it felt like the world disappeared and it was just the two of you.
Ever since you realized that you might have a crush on Alexia, you have avoided spending alone time with her. You dodged all her physical affection and even moved seats in class, making an excuse that your eyesight has been faulty lately which made no sense because you simply moved horizontally as you two had already been sitting up front.
To anyone else, your sudden change in behavior would have been confusing, even hurtful. But Alexia wasn’t just anyone. She understood what you were going through, even if you hadn’t said a word. She saw through your avoidance, knew why you flinched away from her touch or made excuses to leave.
So she decided to give you space. She’d let you sort through your feelings, trusting that you’d come to terms with them when you were ready. There was no rush, no pressure — not from her. The least she could do was add to the pressure you were already feeling from everyone and yourself.
But to you, Alexia’s calm and unbothered demeanor meant something entirely different.
You convinced yourself that her behavior wasn’t born from understanding but indifference. You figured she hadn’t noticed your growing feelings at all, or worse, that she had — and didn’t feel the same.
Her casual way of brushing off your sudden distance only solidified the idea in your mind: Alexia only saw you as a friend.
Every hug, every handhold, every quiet moment together — it was nothing more than friendship to her. That realization made everything harder. It made every excuse you gave, every inch of space you put between you, feel more necessary.
Certainly, it wasn’t the truth but to you, it felt like it was and that didn’t make it hurt any less.
Every so often, some of the sisters that oversee dorm functions would gather everyone for some prayer activity, to exercise different manners of prayer. With the older sisters, they usually preferred teaching worship songs or learning prayers in different languages. The younger sisters were often more imaginative and fun. Sometimes, they’d make board games based on Biblical lessons or it would be a rosary-making session.
Today, Sister Catherine decided that a “Stretching with God” exercise would be fun. So, all the girls from your dorm building were gathered in your modest sweatpants and shirts as you attempted to follow Sister Catherine’s instructions. Some of the moves made sense like raising arms to reach towards the heavens or doing child’s pose to symbolize humility. But some of it… were questionable.
She had everyone rolling their arms back to “emulate angel’s wings.” She had you lifting your legs back and forth in a swinging motion “to kick away all the evil that surrounds you.” After the “punching away demons” move, you looked around and noticed that everyone seemed to be enjoying it — some genuinely enjoying it and others just finding the silliness of it all amusing.
Though, you didn’t bother looking over to Alexia, who was standing beside you. You’ve been avoiding her gaze ever since she found it was so funny for her to lift her shirt up so slightly to wipe the imaginary beads of sweat from her forehead after every stretch.
To you, it seemed like an innocent gesture that your twisted brain was just corrupting but Alexia actually intended to do it ever since she’s caught you frequently glancing at her abdomen, especially after her football training.
“Okay, girls, to close off our Stretching With God session,” Sister Catherine instructed, a little bit winded from leading the session. “We’ll form a circle to have a small prayer.”
Sister Cathy turned off the radio that was playing instrumentals and soon, the dorm fell quiet except for the soft rustling of fabric and the occasional shuffle of feet as everyone gathered into a circle.
You had carefully chosen your spot, slipping beside Ingrid and moving away from Alexia. It seemed like the safest option at the time — distant enough from Alexia to make avoiding her easier. But now, as you settled in, you realized the mistake.
From where you stood, you had a clear line of sight to Alexia. You did move far away from her side but that landed you almost directly in front of her in the circle. You clenched your hands, trying to focus on the prayer circle instead of the way her hazel eyes lingered, even when they weren’t looking at you directly.
The prayer exercise began. “Okay, girls, we’ll be doing the typical ACTS prayer structure.” Sister Catherine started. “Can anyone remind us of what the ACTS prayer is like?”
Instinctively, all eyes darted to you. You nodded and spoke up loud enough for everyone to hear. “A for Adoration — you give worship to God and adore him for who he is. Typically, you can say ‘Almighty God’ or just ‘God the Father’... or whatever you feel is fitting.”
“Next, C stands for asking for confession when you let God know of and apologize for all your sins and misgivings.” Suddenly, your eyes drifted to Alexia who had a small smile on her face. You stumbled with your words. “Uh, uhm…”
“Thanks,” Ingrid whispered surreptitiously to you, thinking you'd forgotten it.
You nodded. “T for Thanksgiving wherein we thank Him for all He has done. Lastly, S for supplication.”
Sister Catherine nodded at you thankfully. “And supplication is just asking humbly for what you want,” She looked over to you again. “For what you desire in your heart.”
You nodded, trying to keep your eyes on the nun instead of letting it drift towards Alexia. Soon, the nun started instructing the group on the movements that accompanied each part of the prayer.
For the adoration part, you all raised your hands high, the weight of silence heavy as you thought of words to praise Him. "All-knowing and all-seeing God," you whispered suddenly. The phrase came unbidden. You bit your lip, feeling guilt rush over you suddenly as you reached your fingertips to the sky.
When it was time to give thanks, everyone was instructed to place their right hand over their heart. You murmured a quiet prayer of gratitude, forcing the words past the lump in your throat. "Thank you for self-control," you said softly, though it felt like a lie. Every day you spent avoiding Alexia made you feel like a thread pulled too tight, ready to snap.
Then came the moment for forgiveness. You were to put both hands over your heart now, one over the other as you closed your eyes and bowed your head to symbolize humility and regret for your actions. You could practically feel your heartbeat inside your hands as you struggled to even formulate a coherent thought.
You knew somehow that your feelings for Alexia were wrong but you couldn’t piece together a statement asking for forgiveness because you couldn’t reconcile with yourself what sin you committed exactly. You clutched your chest as you breathed heavily, settling with a different apology. “I’m sorry I cannot recognize my own sins.” You thought silently.
Finally, it was time to ask for your desires.
“Everyone, keep your heads low. This is to show humility, that you are a mere human asking God for something. Not demanding or expecting already, but just asking kindly with all the humility in our heart.” The nun instructed as she lowered her own head. You followed suit.
“Next, hold your hands, let it serve as a reminder that you are not alone and that your peers have their own desires and aspirations. As we hold hands, this is our way of praying that they also attain all their aspirations.” You locked hands with Ingrid and Maria who were both beside you.
“Finally, tell God your desire.” Sister Catherine said. “You can whisper it, say it out, or keep it in your heart and heed for Him to hear.”
Heads bowed low, hands clasped tightly, the circle seemed to shrink in on itself as whispers of prayers filled the room. Girls murmured quietly, voices blending into a soft hum of hope and longing. You lowered your head like the rest, but your mind was blank.
What did you desire most?
Nothing came to mind at first, only the familiar wave of guilt and confusion. But then, as if pulled by a force you couldn’t resist, you lifted your head. And that’s when you saw her.
Alexia was already staring at you. Her head was not lowered like everyone else, her hazel eyes locked on yours with an intensity that stole your breath. In the middle of all the whispered prayers, the bowed heads, and the holy reverence, it was just the two of you, caught in a moment that felt impossibly loud in its silence.
You didn’t look away.
And in her gaze, you saw it.
The same thing that burned in your chest — the unspoken desire, the longing you’d tried to bury — reflected back at you. It was an understanding, a silent confession shared without words.
Your breath hitched, and your hands trembled as you tried to remain composed. Around you, the prayer continued, a soft chorus of whispered hopes filling the air. But at that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the guilt, not the fear — just her.
Alexia’s lips parted slightly, as though she wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come. Instead, her eyes softened, her expression shifting into something both tender and devastating.
The prayer ended, the murmurs quieting as hands released and the circle broke apart. But you remained frozen, still locked in the echo of what had just passed between you.
You hadn’t spoken a word, but somehow, you knew. You both desired the same thing.
You were violently shaken awake. You blinked your eyes open to see the familiar dark-haired Norwegian sitting on your bed, trying to get you to wake up.
You blinked your eyes, drowsy and disoriented. Ingrid looked relieved to see you awake. She sighed. “Sister Superior is summoning you to her office. She says there’s a matter of your concern.” She said with a frantic but firm voice.
You sat up and instinctively looked over to Alexia’s bed which was empty. However, this time, it was undone and not fixed which was uncharacteristic of the Catalan who often did her bed as soon as she woke up.
Ingrid noticed. “Alexia’s there too.” She clarified. “You need to get dressed immediately. Sister superior does not seem happy.”
Suddenly, your heart pounded against your chest. No one in the school knows what you were feeling for Alexia and yet, that was the first thing that came into your mind. Could you have been figured out?
No, it couldn’t be. You thought. But… we have been affectionate a lot and have been holding hands prior. Could that be the reason? But girls here often hold hands.
Or… maybe it’s all those nights sneaking out? Were you caught? Did they hear you say all those things about your apprehensions and your conflicted feelings.
You gulped as your hands grew clammy. Ingrid sat back on the bed with you and clasped your hand in hers. “Hey, hey,” Her voice said in a comforting manner but there was a tone of doubt. “I’m sure it’s nothing. It might just be a dormitory concern.”
You nodded, doubting her words. “Yeah… maybe.” You whispered. “Do you know what it’s about?”
Ingrid shook her head. “No, but it seems… urgent.” She answered. “Just get dressed and I’ll take you there immediately to not anger the sister.”
You immediately threw on your clothes and joined Ingrid as you briskly walked to the office at the opposite building. You were both quiet at first, the tension heavy between the two of you until Ingrid spoke up.
“Do you have a clue what this meeting could be about?” She asked cautiously. “Did Alexia do something?”
You bit your lip and looked at your friend’s icy blue eyes, contemplating whether or not you wanted to even answer. Ingrid lowered her voice to a whisper. “I promise to God I won’t tell if you know anything.”
You looked away briefly, assessing if anyone was within earshot. You linked arms with Ingrid to move closer to her as you walked. “I think… it might be because Alexia and I snuck out once or twice before.”
Ingrid’s eyes widened, shocked not by the act of sneaking out but that it was you who did it. She knew several girls who snuck out before but you were the last person she expected to do so. “W-what? To where? Were you the ones who took the bus?”
You blinked cluelessly. “Bus? No, no, we often went to the prayer garden at night.”
Ingrid let out a sigh of relief, realizing that you two had very different concepts of sneaking out.
“I… I don’t think that’s a big deal honestly.” She cautiously said, not wanting you to find out some people were actually sneaking out. “I doubt the sisters would be that mad about that. Just say you two wanted to pray. They can’t get mad at that.”
You hesitated. You looked over to your friend who you’ve known all these years. There were times you’d chat about personal things, sad moments, and doubts but you never really discussed anything too personal. But Ingrid… she was the only other person here you could fully trust to open up to — well, aside from Alexia.
“There’s something else.” You started.
“What is it?” Ingrid looked at you quizzically.
You hesitated. “I… I’m starting to get…” Your voice trailed off.
Ingrid squeezed your hand. “I won’t judge. I promise and I swear to God.”
You sighed deeply before whispering. “I think I have feeli—”
“Ingrid! There you two are!” You both jumped at the sound of Sister Jude suddenly appearing from the end of the hallway. The plump sister waved her hands to summon you two. “Please make haste, we don’t have all day.”
You looked at Ingrid who had a curious, wide-eye look on her face but you decided against continuing your statement. Instead, you just gently tugged at her to gesture for her to jog to the sister’s office.
Having not had enough exercise, you were a bit winded by the time you got to the office while Ingrid was breathing normally, the athlete that she was.
As soon as you opened the door, you were met by the sight of Alexia’s familiar back, turned and standing with her hands clasped behind her back to face the Sister Superior who was sitting behind her desk with a sour expression.
When the heavy wooden door opened further, you saw an unfamiliar person.
A tall, dark-haired girl wearing a black shirt and pants was sitting on the side opposite Alexia. She turned around to look at you as you entered. She had a strained and frustrated expression but it was undeniable that she was pretty.
You looked behind to Ingrid who comfortably nodded at you, gesturing for you to go on as she waited outside the office.
As soon as the door shut behind you, the sister superior began talking again. You moved closer to stand by Alexia, who glanced up at you briefly before looking back down. You stood quietly, trying to figure out what was happening.
Alexia’s demeanor was noticeably different. The confidence and the aura that she typically exuded suddenly gone, replaced by a heavy energy. You turned your attention to the sister who seemed frustrated.
Sister Philomena’s voice broke the silence, her tone sharp. “Alexia was sent here to heal from her past and seek redemption,” she said, pointing a finger at the dark-haired girl. “You cannot just walk into our sacred institution and tempt her back into your sinful lifestyle.”
The unfamiliar girl rolled her eyes. “I don’t see the problem, sister.” She responded, voice dripping with animosity. “Is Alexia a prisoner? Hell, even prisoners have more rights. Why can’t her friends visit her?”
The nun slammed her hand flat on the table. “This is precisely the problem. You think Alexia is a prisoner when she is here to grow and learn.” Her voice rang through the office. “And you did not come here to visit her. You trespass into our premises, asking her to run away and leave. This is not a visitation.”
You flinched at the harshness of the nun’s words. Sister Philomena turned toward you. “Tell this girl how visitation works here, so she understands.”
You blinked, caught off guard, and repeated the rules as best as you could. “When friends or family want to visit, they fill out a visitation form—”
“Precisely,” Sister Philomena interrupted. “But you didn’t come here to visit. You came to seduce Alexia and drag her away from God.”
“Seduced?” you whispered, your mind reeling at the accusation. Alexia must have taken notice because she quickly shook her head.
“I’m not some demonic temptress like you’re making me out to be,” The girl chided with a mocking laugh. “You are all acting like I’m some evil person for wanting to see Alexia after everyone took her away from me! God forbid I want to see my girlfriend after she’s disappeared for months.”
Your heart stopped beating. Girlfriend?
You glanced over at Alexia then to the girl. Even with the girl being sat down on the chair, you could tell she was perhaps as tall as Alexia. She exuded the same confident aura. Even if Alexia never opened up about crushes, you never would have thought she’d actually be in a relationship, which felt like betrayal. Why wouldn’t she tell me she had a girlfriend? And… why would she act like that with me if she had one?
Your train of thought was suddenly broken when the nun’s voice loudly echoed through the room. Sister Philomena’s voice grew louder, more forceful with every word. “Homosexuality is a sin, plain and simple,” she said, her eyes blazing with what she surely believed was righteous indignation. “It is an abomination in the eyes of the Lord, a corruption of His holy design. And you, girl, are no better than the serpent in the garden, seeking to lead Alexia down a path of damnation.”
You clutched your heart subconsciously, feeling affected and shaken by her words. You could feel your hands quiver as the scene unfolded. Sister Philomena had always been intimidating but you’ve never seen her this frustrated and intense. It was frightening. Not to mention what she was saying was starting to get to you, digging into your own guilt.
The sister stood up from her chair, still standing quite tall despite her seniority. “Her grandparents sent her here, to this sacred institution, to be healed, to be purified. They entrusted us with their beloved granddaughter, hoping that we could erase the darkness that had consumed her heart. This place is meant to protect her from the evil influences of the world, to bring her back to the fold, back to the love and grace of the Lord.”
Suddenly, Sister Philomen’s eyes darted to you. “We surround her with kind people, righteous people like her.” She pointed at you. The dark-haired girl’s glare shifted to you, making you feel even more nervous. “She is the type of company Alexia needs to heal and to repent. Her friends and peers in this institute have been working tirelessly to guide Alexia to the righteous path.”
You looked down on your shoes, unsure of what to feel with the Sister’s words. This wasn’t the first time that you had to stand in a room with the nun and another student being admonished. You quickly learned your role in all of this — the ideal student to be made an example to the wrongdoer. After this session, you were expected to confide in the students, pray with them, and tell them more gently how they can improve.
It was never easy for you, having to assume that role. But now, it felt less like a challenge and more like a heavy cross to bear on your back.
Turning her attention back to the dark-haired girl, Sister Philomena’s expression hardened, her voice dripping with venom. “Your very presence here, your words, your actions, are a poison to her soul. You are the temptation, the forbidden fruit. You are what lures her into the darkness, and she has no hope of finding salvation with you by her side. What kind of life is it that you offer her? A life of sin, of shame, of eternal separation from God. That is the future you are promising her.”
The nun put a hand on her temples, starting to feel nauseous from the anger. The younger nuns in the room urged her to sit back down, patting her back to calm her down. She took a deep breath, looking at some of the documents scattered on her desk, mindlessly organizing them to calm herself down.
Her voice softened only slightly as she looked up again at the girl. “You are not a savior. You are a predator, preying on a fragile soul, and you will not be allowed to continue poisoning Alexia’s spirit. We will not allow it. She will live a better life without you. We will make sure of it.”
The dark-haired, tattooed girl let out a smug chuckle. “What kind of life is it where you’re called a sinner for being who you are?” she spat, her voice not loud but firm. “She’s not living here. She’s suffering here. Clearly.”
Sister Philomena shook her head. “Enough.” She ordered. “If you don’t want us to call the police for trespassing and damaging personal property, you need to leave. Now.”
The girl clenched her jaw before shaking her head. As a last resort, she turned to Alexia who was still unmoving, head held down. “Alexia, please. You don’t belong here. Come with me. We can leave this place together.” She turned to the sisters. “You’re old enough to just leave this place and live your truth. Come on, you can decide for yourself.”
Alexia stood still, her gaze fixed on the floor. She didn’t move, didn’t react. You watched in silent disbelief as the younger nuns approached the tall girl, putting hands on her shoulders. “Alexia, please.” She said as she tried to reach for Alexia’s hands. This time, the nuns firmly held her so that she couldn’t move towards Alexia. “Do you really want to stay here?”
Alexia stood, unmoving. The girl scoffed and shrugged the hands on her shoulders away. “I can go on my own.” She barked out. “Fine, if you wanna stay here and get converted into some bible thumper then live your life, Alexia.”
She looked one last time at Alexia, then at you. “These people don’t actually love you, just remember that.”
It felt targeted somehow — the way she looked at you as she spat those words out. You knew she had no idea of what you meant to Alexia and what you felt for her but you still can’t help but feel it was a personal dig at you.
The door slammed behind the girl as she left, The weight of the revelation hit you like a ton of bricks, and you stood frozen, staring at the empty doorway. The silence hung for a moment before Sister Philomena cleared her throat. “Alexia,” She called out in a firm but not angry voice.
Finally, Alexia raised her head. That’s when you noticed that her face was tear-stained and her eyes bloodshot despite the firm, un-emoting look on her face. “Yes, sister?”
“Did you make any contact with Jennifer Hermoso prior to this?” She asked sternly.
“No, sister.” She responded firmly.
“Do you wish to continue your stay in this institute?” The sister asked quizzically.
Alexia’s eyes flickered to you for a moment before quickly returning to the senior sister. “Y-yes, sister.”
The nun hummed, rubbing her temples. “And do you understand why you’re here? Why it is in your best interest to be her?”
No hesitation came from Alexia. “Yes, sister.”
The nun seemed satisfied, nodding her head. “Okay, seeing this incident is not your fault,” She started. “Let it serve as a test of your faith and your strength. I will not admonish you but I will simply remind you to pray over your situation diligently.”
Alexia nodded.
“I will have the junior sisters talk to you later but for now, you two return to your dorm room.” Sister Philomena ordered. She then pointed her pen at you. “I trust you two will have a fruitful conversation together as well. Hence, I’ll have you both excused for morning classes. Understood?”
You nodded at the nun, confirming with her that you got her silent instruction to do what you always did — force the troublemaker back into the rightful path.
This time, though, you feel like you’ve also been led astray. Blind leading the blind.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ACT IV. Damned to the End From the Start
You and Alexia were joined by Ingrid as you made your way back to the dorm buildings. Ingrid kept glancing at you, her expression a mix of concern and silent questions, as if willing to speak up and explain what had happened. You raised a hand in a subtle gesture, signaling her to wait. The tension hung heavy between the three of you, amplified by Alexia’s silence. She walked alongside you, her arms folded, her gaze fixed ahead. Not once did she look at you or reach for your hand. The distance, both physical and emotional, was unsettling.
Once you got to your dorm, Alexia slipped inside without a word, leaving you in the hallway with Ingrid. Ingrid turned to you, her wide eyes filled with disbelief. “I can’t believe how harsh she was to Alexia,” she whispered, her voice tinged with anger and sadness.
You bit your lip, partially surprised by Ingrid’s sympathy. You had always assumed people defended the sisters’ stances without question — you certainly had in the past. But this time was different. This time, the weight of their words had hit too close to home, and Ingrid’s reaction was a small but meaningful relief.
Before you could think about your actions, you just pulled Ingrid into a hug, startling the taller girl. “Thank you for being with us, Ingrid.” You murmured, voice soft but sincere. “Really. Thank you.”
Ingrid blinked, clearly surprised by your affection. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, darling,” she said with a gentle laugh, her tone warm despite her confusion. “But I’m glad my presence meant something to you.”
When you pulled back, she rested her hands on your shoulders, her touch steady and reassuring. “If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me.”
You sighed and nodded, thinking about whether or not you should open up to her at that moment. You still weren’t sure what to feel. For now, you just excused yourself. “Thank you,” you said again, offering her a small smile. “But I need to check on Alexia first. She needs me.”
Ingrid nodded, her expression understanding. “Of course,” she said, stepping back to give you space. “Take care of her. And yourself.”
With a final nod, you turned and entered your dorm room, closing the door softly behind you. You could immediately see Alexia curled up on her bed, facing the wall. The sight of an upset Alexia was something new. In the past months, you’ve seen all versions of Alexia – happy after you say something that made her laugh, sad over a movie, pissed off after a bad football training session, teasing almost all the time. But this devastated, silent Alexia… it was not a thing you’ve ever thought you’d encounter.
You stepped cautiously, sitting on the edge of her bed. “Alexia…” Your voice trailed off. “Look, what Sister said… I’m sure she… Well…” You kept losing confidence in what you were saying. Even you felt lost in the situation, deeply conflicted by the situation.
“Not in the mood for a sermon,” Alexia grunted out, burying her head in her pillow.
You felt a pang in your heart. “Alexia…” You started again cautiously. “I-I’m sorry that that happened. None of it was your fault. Sister Philomena just takes student safety seriously and y’know, a trespasser…”
“You know that’s not what I’m upset about,” Alexia interrupted, her voice sharper now, though it trembled with emotion.
You swallowed hard, nodding even though she couldn’t see you. “I know,” you admitted quietly, sighing as the words you wanted to say slipped further away. After a beat of silence, you asked gently, “Do you want to leave?”
At that, Alexia shifted slightly, her hand brushing against her cheek as she wiped her eyes. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, fragile. “I don’t want to leave, monjita.” The words came out in a croak, and she sniffled as though holding back more tears.
Your hands itched to reach for her, to wipe away her tears and pull her into your arms. But something held you back — maybe fear of overstepping, maybe the invisible walls Alexia seemed to have built around herself at that moment. So you stayed where you were, your voice gentle as you replied, “I’m glad you’re staying. I… I like having you here, Alexia.”
A pause. “Even after you learned why I’m here?”
“Yes, of course, Alexia.” You comforted her immediately. “Nothing changed for me. Your girlfriend… whatever happened between you two is in the past. It’s none of my business.”
“Ex,” She corrected. “Ex-girlfriend.”
You nodded, weirdly comforted by the way she corrected you. Silence befell the dorm room again, disturbed only by the sound of sniffling. You wanted to say so much but there was not a single coherent thought.
“Monjita,” Alexia whispered, her voice trembling and soft, breaking the heavy silence in the room. Your heart warmed at the use of her endearment with a gentle tone. She glanced at you carefully. “Do you think I’m… wrong for who I am? Do you hate me?”
Her words hit you like a blow to the chest. The mere thought that Alexia, who carried so much strength and warmth, could believe you might judge or reject her for something as intrinsic as her identity made your throat tighten. Your eyes began to sting, tears threatening to spill. Without a second thought, you leaned over to Alexia. You got a closer look of her reddened, tear-stained face.
You used your hand to wipe her tears and the hair that stuck to her face. “Alexia, you’re not wrong for who you are.” You whispered. “And, I could never hate you.”
Her glassy eyes met yours, uncertainty flickering within them. “Yeah?” she asked hesitantly, as though daring to hope you truly meant it. Her hazel eyes flickered as tears threatened to spill again. “Then why haven’t you been talking to me?”
You gulped, looking away for a moment before looking back at her. “Alexia,” you started. “I promise you it was all on me. I was struggling with being close to someone. You know me… I haven’t had a best friend since I was a kid. It’s been hard for me to adjust… to being close to someone.” You paused, struggling to find the words.
Alexia lifted your head up by placing a hand on your chin. “Does it have to do with me being…” She trailed off.
“No, no,” You shook your head and gave her a small, reassuring smile. You hesitated for just a moment before leaning in, pressing a tender kiss to her moist cheek. “I promise, you haven’t done anything to drive me away.” You whispered, your voice filled with conviction.
Something in her expression softened, and then she shifted, turning fully to face you. Without warning, she sat up and pulled you into her arms, wrapping them tightly around you as though she was trying to hold herself together. You returned the hug, feeling the weight of her emotions as her face pressed into your shoulder. The world outside seemed to fade as the two of you sat there, wrapped in a moment that felt achingly fragile and impossibly intimate
When Alexia pulled back, her hands slid up to cradle your face. Her thumbs lightly brushed your cheeks, and you could feel the warmth of her palms against your skin. The intensity in her eyes made your breath hitch. Her gaze flickered between your own, and then down to your lips. She brushed over your cheek again with her thumb, gentle against your own skin. As Alexia moved closer, you felt your own eyes flutter nervously.
Just as Alexia was about to move closer, the door creaked open, the sound cutting through the tension like a blade. Both of you jumped, your hearts racing as though you’d been caught doing something forbidden.
Ingrid popped in, standing in the doorway, equally surprised to see you both wide-eyed and surprised. “Oh, sorry, was I…” She trailed off. “Was I… interrupting something?”
You quickly shook your head, your face burning. “No, it’s fine,” you managed, your voice higher than usual.
Ingrid lingered awkwardly for a moment before clearing her throat. “Sister Catherine sent me to call Alexia over,” she said, her tone careful, as if trying not to pry.
Alexia straightened, wiping her face hurriedly with the sleeve of her sweater. “Oh… uh… of course,” she muttered, her voice still thick with emotion. She glanced back at you as she stepped toward the door, her eyes apologetic and heavy with unspoken words.
As the door clicked shut, the silence filled the room and the only sound you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears. You stared at the space Alexia had just vacated, your thoughts spinning.
Did we almost…
The guilt hit at the thought you were not even able to finish as the horrible feeling drowned you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d done something wrong. You liked Alexia… you cared for her and not much changed for what you feel for her. But, the guilt you had already took root in your gut. It was something that you’ve lived with all your life. Even if you wanted to shake off the feeling, it felt incredibly difficult.
You laid on Alexia’s bed, staring at the ceiling as all the emotions filled you.
Alexia had to sit through multiple sessions with the sisters, which was tiring, to say the least. She hated being lectured by the older nuns the most; one can only listen to 'being gay is a sin' so many times. The more junior nuns were more tolerable but it still wasn’t any fun. They may not have condemned Alexia for being gay but they did say that she shouldn’t 'act on her homosexuality.'
It was just tiring and by the time they were done with Alexia, it was already dinner time.
She was too nervous to eat around the sisters so she hadn’t eaten all day, leaving her with a rumbling stomach. She trudged along to the cafeteria, heading to her usual table. However, this time, something seemed off.
Alexia set down her plate of potatoes and beef as she looked around. “Where’s monjita?” She asked, using your nickname which she used so often that others have already associated it with you.
“She said she wasn’t hungry,” Ingrid responded as she picked at her potatoes. “She’s skipping dinner.”
Maria chewed on her food, gesturing that she was about to say something. As soon as she swallowed her mouthful of undercooked potatoes, she added, “I think she might be praying though. She said something about it when I saw her in the hallway”
“Oh,” Alexia said before sitting down, wondering why you would skip dinner when you typically were not the type to miss meals. She absentmindedly ate her food, mind still fixated on her.
Ingrid must have noticed the vacant expression in the Catalan’s eyes. “You good?” She asked carefully.
Alexia shook out of her catatonic state. “Yeah, yeah, just tired.” She responded. “Uh… did she explain why she’s missing dinner?”
Ingrid exhaled. “No, but she kinda looked upset when I last saw her.” She said. “She didn’t even want to talk to me.”
Alexia hummed as she nodded in response. After taking a nibble out of her food, she decided that she couldn’t sit there without knowing what was going on with you. She took a big gulp of water before standing up from the table, food barely touched. “Uh, I gotta go.”
“Oh,” Her teammates looked at each other cautiously. Ingrid carefully asked, “Alexia, are you sure you’re okay?”
Alexia gave a tight-lipped smile before nodding. “Yeah, just… not hungry.”
Ingrid, who had heard Alexia’s stomach rumble a while ago, didn’t believe her one bit but figured it would be best for Alexia to go on and find you. “Oh okay,” She said. “If you need anything, you know where to find us.”
Alexia gave a thankful look before leaving the cafeteria. The hallways were quite empty save for a few students returning back to their dorms. Alexia figured the best place to find you was back in your dorm room but as soon as she opened the door to your room, it was dark and empty.
She sighed, walking aimlessly through the dorm building and the common rooms. She grew even more weary once she got to the library and found no trace of you.
Fuck, where could she even be?
She paused. Suddenly, a familiar freshman passed by. She knew the girl from all the times she’d knock on your dorm room, asking to talk to you for some spiritual guidance. Alexia briskly walked towards the girl. “Anna.”
The freshman turned around. She seemed shocked. “Oh, Alexia.” She said. “You scared me.”
Alexia looked at her apologetically. Perhaps, it wasn’t such a good idea to startle the kid in the middle of a dark hallway but she needed to find you as soon as she could. “Uh, have you seen Y/N anywhere? She skipped dinner.”
Anna nodded. “I came over to your room to ask advice about something but she said she had to go pray. Maybe in the chapel?”
Alexia peered out the windows, seeing that it was raining outside. “The chapel? Across the field?” She asked as if there was any other chapel.
The freshman nodded. “Yeah… or the prayer room?”
Alexia shook her head. “I was just there and she’s not there.” She bit her lip. “Okay, thank you, Anna.”
Alexia grew increasingly worried as she heard the thunderstorm worsen outside the dorm windows. Her heart started beating harder against her chest when she reached your shared room to find you’ve left behind your umbrella. Oh no, she must be stranded there.
Alexia didn’t hesitate to rush to you, growing increasingly worried about your wellbeing.
Little did she know, Anna’s hunch was right and you were praying at the chapel. However, you weren’t there because you were stranded. You’ve been staying there for hours, trying to avoid everyone and trying to seek for answers.
Answers for what? You didn’t even know. You just knew you were lost and that you needed guidance.
The dim flicker of candles cast long shadows across the chapel walls as you exhaled a deep, shuddering breath, your hands clasped tightly in prayer, your head bowed low. You had been kneeling for so long that your legs had gone numb.
“God…” You prayed out, losing track of things you’ve already prayed for previously. Your voice was soft but it felt amplified by the heavy silence in the dark and empty chapel. “I need you to send me a sign. Anything. I just need you to tell me you don’t hate me for who I am.”
Then, as if on cue, a deafening crack of lightning split the air outside, shaking the stained glass windows. You flinched, your heart racing as you lifted your tear-streaked face to glance toward the altar.
You sighed. “Is that the sign?” The words slipped out, dripping with doubt and hesitation. You felt ridiculous asking for clarification for a sign that might have seemed like an obvious disapproval.
A lot of the sisters have told you that when you pray enough, God speaks to you with clarity, and at times, it did feel that way. But now, he just seemed… so far away and so silent.
Another thunderous clap echoed through the night, louder this time, shaking you to your core.
“If that is really your sign…” Your voice trailed off, trembling. “Then cleanse all the sin away. Cleanse all wrongful desires and replace it with something more pure.”
You paused as you felt the lump in your throat return for the nth time that night and felt your vision become blurry. “I-if you think what I feel for her is a sin… if I’m beyond saving…” You whispered before wiping your tears away, and speaking more firmly. “Then… the least you can do is take it all away. Wipe her from my mind. Take all of it — every memory, every feeling.”
As you said it, you could feel your heart break at the thought of forgetting Alexia. You could feel the sob you’ve been suppressing bubble up to the surface as you fall to pieces. Your body crumpled, collapsing from a kneeling position to sitting back on your legs. You buried your face in your hands, sobbing quietly, your cries muffled by the storm outside.
You couldn’t speak up anymore, feeling like each thunderclap was God’s way of admonishing you. The still statues of the saints seemed to tower over your crumpled posture, signifying just how low you’ve fallen.
“Please, God,” You cried out one last time. “Just… be here.”
At the moment, you felt so empty and alone in the chapel. However, unbeknownst to you, you haven’t been alone in the past few minutes. You’ve grown consumed by your sobs and your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed that Alexia had been lurking at the back of the chapel, carefully walking towards you.
She hadn’t heard much but she heard enough to conclude that you were here because of her.
She stepped closer to you, her closed umbrella dripping on to the cold marble. The wind continued to rattle the stained glass windows, making the atmosphere feel even more tense.
As you let out another sob, Alexia finally spoke up. “Are you praying that God will heal me?” Her voice cracked as she said it.
You nearly jumped at the voice cutting through the silence of the chapel. As you turned, your eyes locked with Alexia, standing a few pews back. It was dim — her face illuminated by the faint light of the lamps and candles — but her expression was clearly pained. Her hazel eyes glistened with unshed tears, her lips parted and quivering as if wanting to stay something but unable to.
“D-do you think I’m a sin for liking women too?” she asked, her voice faltering. She was trying to sound firm and composed, but the cracks in her tone betrayed her.
You stood up from your kneeling position, walking towards the taller girl. “Alexia,” you said. “No, no — I wasn’t…”
“I thought you—” Alexia’s voice cracked. She looked down, shaking her head, before looking back up at you. “I’m so fucking stupid.”
“Alexia, please.” You reached for her hands, clasping them tightly in your own. “It’s not what you think. I wasn’t praying for that.” Your words tumbled out in a rush, defensive and desperate, as though you could will her to understand.
Alexia took her hand away from you. “Then what was all of that ‘erase all memory of her’ I was hearing?” Her voice quivered, blinking rapidly as a few drops of tears trailed down her face. “I thought… I thought you liked me.”
You reached over to her again, trying to touch her face but she backed away. You bit your lip, pained by the sight of her. She looked hurt. “Alexia, you’re misunderstanding…”
“How else can I interpret that?” Her voice was suddenly sharp, tinged with anger and pain. “What else could you mean? How am I supposed to feel when you’re in here begging God to erase me from your life?”
The emotions that bubbled inside of you made it harder for you to formulate a coherent sentence to explain to her just what you were praying about. “Alexia, I really…” You paused. “I was just asking Him for a sign.”
Alexia released a dry, hollow chuckle, obviously pained. “A sign that what? You should distance yourself from me? Because I’m some filthy homosexual dragging you to hell, isn’t that right?” You winced at Alexia’s tone as it cracked through the heavy air.
“Alexia, stop—please!”
“No, you stop!” she snapped, her voice shaking with anger and grief. “You’re praying to forget me so you can go back to being perfect little monjita, right? So you can live your pure, saintly life without people like me ruining it?” Her lips curled in a bitter smile, her eyes glassy. “Because your god says I’m disgusting, doesn’t he? That people like me don’t deserve to exist?”
“Go ahead, fuck it,” She cursed, not letting you interject with her voice sharp and pointed. “I’ll stay away from you. I won’t bother you anymore just so you can be the perfect angel everyone thought you were again. I’ll stay away so your life can finally be cleansed from—”
Without even thinking twice, you stepped forward and wrapped both arms around Alexia’s waist, burying your head in her chest as you felt the sobs bubble up again. You clutched her tightly as your body shook.
Startled, Alexia lost her train of thought and kept her hands to her sides, unmoving. When you looked up, she locked eyes with you and saw so much pain in your face. The tears continued to rush down your face with no sign of stopping. Your eyes were filled with a devastating expression that made her heart pang.
“Alexia, I’m praying because…” Your voice cracked as you struggled to speak through the tears. “I think I like you… and that terrifies me.”
Alexia’s breath hitched, and her arms moved almost involuntarily, wrapping around you in a hesitant but protective embrace. She held you close, her mind racing as conflicting emotions surged through her. She felt confused as to how to feel because here you were, confessing your feelings just after she heard you pray that you forget about her.
Her hazel eyes searched yours as she pulled back slightly, her hands still resting on your shoulders. You could see the confusion and pain warring within her. “You were asking him to help you forget me,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “How am I supposed to believe you now?”
You stepped back, your hands trembling as you wiped at your tear-stained face. “Alexia, I…” You swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice. “I was saying things out of fear — out of confusion. This… this is all I’ve ever known,” you began, your voice cracking. “The church, my faith, my beliefs… they were my whole world.”
“And it was fine.” You said before looking up to Alexia, meeting her hazel eyes once again. “Until you came along.”
Alexia looked away from the eye contact, feeling it was too much for her to handle with the fear of dissolving into tears. You bit your lip and continued. “Then now, when I look back, everything that was… it felt wrong.”
“You… you showed me,” You said, stepping again towards Alexia to touch her hand. “You showed me that I could be happy. Truly happy. Not just because I was told to be happy or because I felt like I had to be.”
Alexia looked up to you again, locking eyes with you again. But, this time, all the frustration was replaced with something else — her eyes misty and her expression soft. “Then why are you here?” She asked. “Why do you want to get rid of what we have… if I make you happy?”
You looked down, carefully holding on to Alexia’s hesitant fingertips. “I’m still afraid… what if…” You tried to choose your words carefully. “What if my feelings for you are wrong? What if we make that mistake and… we suffer…”
You couldn’t say it more tactfully or more carefully but Alexia could finally understand your internal conflict better. She puts a careful hand under your chin, lifting your head up to look up at her as she moved closer to you.
“Why would this be wrong?” she asked, her voice low but steady, her eyes burning with emotion. “Why would loving you — purely, wholly, completely — be a sin?”
You looked up at Alexia, feeling your breath hitch. Your eyes flickered from her eyes to her lips and back to her eyes.
God, you said silently in your head. If this is a sin, strike me with lightning now.
The air between you and the Catalan grew heavier as you both breathed. The silence filled the air with only the sound of the wind howling and the rain pouring on the roof.
You took a deep breath, eyes finding their way back to Alexia’s parted and anticipating lips.
A pause. A breath held.
Then, suddenly, you were kissing her. Your lips crashed into hers with a fervor that felt almost primal, a hunger that had been building for far too long. Your arms wrapped around her tightly, as though letting go would send her slipping through your fingers, like sand in an hourglass.
Hwr hands found their way around your waist, pulling you closer as she deepened the kiss. Her lips pressed against yours, soft and sweet, yet insistent. She parted your lips slightly, her tongue teasing yours with a delicious mix of restraint and desire. The way your body molded against hers left her yearning for more, craving every piece of you.
She’s kissed other girls before but nothing quite like this. Sure, it had the same passion and intensity. But kissing you went beyond passion. It was transcendence.
Kissing you felt like kissing heaven.
You shared the same unspoken sentiment but to you, Alexia tasted like freedom. Her lips against yours just managed to melt away all your worries, all your doubts. With every careful yet firm touch on your waist and hips, it felt like your chains were being detached link-by-link and you were finally able to move unconstrained.
Suddenly, you felt free.
As you became breathless, you pulled away from the taller girl, trying to catch your breath. You looked up at her, searching her own eyes for a response.
Alexia just smiled at you, letting you catch your breath, before taking your face again — her hands gentle but insistent. She leaned in and captured your lips with hers, kissing you in a way that left your face warm and your mind hazy.
It felt right: kissing her, holding her, being hers. Even for a stolen moment.
There were still a lot of things for you two to worry about. For one, you still resided within the confines of this institution that would condemn you. But you couldn’t think of that at the moment. All you knew was you were kissing Alexia… and that was all that mattered now.
Inside that cold, unyielding chapel, kissing Alexia felt like soaring towards the sun — a forbidden warmth that melted away all the frigid pain inside you. It was a kind of warmth you’ve never felt in your life. It was the kind of warmth you’ve always craved to feel, without even knowing it.
But even Icarus — who sought to feel that same sensation of the satisfying heat — was undone when he flew too close to the sun. Before he could even realize it, his wax had melted and his wings had unraveled.
And came his devastating descent.
chapter 2 🕊
a/n: let me know your thoughts. comments motivate me a lot <3
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