As always, I thank @osirisiii-bc and @van-goghs-smoking-skull for their help with the translation. What a small text and how many problems! Thank you for still being with me despite my pedantry! <3
Tags: 18+, Angst, Loss, Farwell, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Love, Foreplay, Petting, Manual stimulation, Mention of Religion
Characters: Papa Emeritus III x Cirice
Soundtrack: This fic is written under the impression of the song by Spiritual Front 'Choose Death'. Please listen to it, it's just amazing.
«
The darkness of the fall night peeked through the curtains, creeping up to the headboard of the bed, illuminated by the faint light of a table lamp. He lay leaning on his elbow, pulling back the hair falling from her forehead with his fingers, peering into her face. He was still in his makeup from the concert, and flecks of white paint were imprinted on her lips, her neck, her breasts, as the marks of his attention. She stared up at him, lying on her back, trying to catch a glimpse of a smile on his lips.
Always assertive and sinister at first, he became gentle in the middle of the night, as if the dark doom weighing on him receded for a while under the magic of mutual caresses. She saw how his eyebrows, perpetually scrunched together in thought, had relaxed for once, how the wrinkles on his forehead and cheeks smoothed out, and from behind the mask of the stern pontiff a wily child emerged, the one he let only her see. It had always been that way, but today something else flickered in the depths of his eyes.
»