midnight mass

let them praise his name with dance

Fights between you and Father Paul were few and far between, but that didn't mean they didn't happen.

Paul couldn't really do anything with malicious intent, but he could care to the point that he pushed too far and wouldn't listen to the word no. And you, of course, were stubborn as a mule, so when you two disagreed about something, it could be explosive.

The gravel beneath your feet crunched as you walked up to the home you shared with Father Paul. You'd walked basically the length of the whole island, been gone for hours, but you certainly did have to come back, you lived here after all.

Most of your anger had dissipated on your walk, but not all, so when you walked in you walked right past your lover sitting on the couch with his Bible and into the bedroom, though you could feel his eyes follow you the whole time.

Your shoes came off and you padded back out to the living room in your socks, picked up your book from the coffee table and chose the chair farthest from him.

You opened the book and tried to focus on the words, but it was hard when Paul's eyes were basically burning holes in your face.

"Oh my god, what?" You finally sighed, dejected, after sitting for a few minutes with Paul staring at you, the tension in the room almost unbearable.

He didn't answer. He carefully closed the Bible and stood up and his long legs carried him over to the record player. After a second of fiddling with it, your favorite song started softly playing.

At this point your book was long forgotten on the ground. Paul walked over to you with a sort of begging look on his face and held out his hand.

Your eyebrows shot up.

"Dance with me," he spoke quietly, like he was trying not to upset you, and bit his lip, "please."

You sighed. Hard. You were still mad, but he was still your love and you couldn't stand him looking at you like a kicked puppy.

You laid your hand in his and he pulled you up and towards the center of the room gently. One of his hands found your waist and he gripped it tightly, like he was afraid of letting go. The other stayed up and laced with one of yours, the other resting on his shoulder.

You two slowly swayed to the music, your nose close to his chest for a minute before he seemed determined to make you laugh, spinning you around, dipping you. You let a giggle slip past your lips when he wrapped an arm under your thighs and lifted you up, turning in a circle all the while. He grinned down at you at the sound, like it was his favorite thing to hear.

The song was slowing down now and you swayed with your arms around his neck, faced buried in the crook of it, with his arms around your waist.

"I'm sorry," his voice was low and you two parted from your embrace to look each other in the eyes, "I shouldn't have pushed so much. You just mean so much to me. I can't-."

He sighed.

"It doesn't matter. I truly apologize."

You smiled up at him and his hand came up to stroke at your hair.

"It's ok, love. We all have our moments. I'm sorry too, for being so stubborn. I know you only mean the best."

"Oh thank god," he breathed a sigh of relief, "I can't stand when you're mad at me."

You rolled your eyes jokingly at him and rose up on your tippy toes to give him a soft kiss. You felt him grin before responding to it, picking you up by the bottom of your thighs to carry you off to bed.

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Do you guys like second person pov or first better? Also if you have any requests I will be happy to try and write them. I have a notebook full of ideas for this book, if only I could write the way I wanna 🙄🙄🙄