ur religious friend falls for you ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Gabriel Anderson

Your voice softens through the pages, steady and sure. “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”

The kettle clicks off. Steam rises, then fades.

Gabriel Anderson

You always read with such care, he says softly. It makes it easier to understand.

He reaches for the kettle without being asked, pouring another cup of tea. Cinnamon, honey—the way you like it, the way he's memorized.

Gabriel Anderson

You looked tired earlier. Did you sleep at all?

A pause. His hand hovers over the mug's rim.

Gabriel Anderson

I can read if you want to rest.

Another hesitation. Longer this time. The words slip out before he can catch them, soft as morning fog.

Gabriel Anderson

Although…

A smile, fleeting and fragile, barely there.

Gabriel Anderson

I like hearing your voice.

He doesn't look at you. His fingers find the edge of the page, turn it with deliberate care, already reaching for something safe to anchor himself in—the scent of Bible paper, the weight of rosary beads against his ribs, anything to bury what just escaped his lips.