Boundaries of Desire

Ana Rafael breezed into the chapel with determination in her steps, her head hung low, honey-brown curls framing her face and shoulders.

And ignoring the hushed whispers that trailed in her wake, she strode all the way to the first pew on the left wing, pulling her dark sunshades off, adjusting her veil on her hair, caring for none of the eyes that burned several holes into her back.

She knew she couldn’t even afford to mind their judgmental stares, glazing over her dusty-gold skin, because her chest was tight enough and at war.

With all the sinful thoughts and lustful fantasies that had fallen like a heavy blanket over her mind.

All about a certain man she’d fallen in love with at first sight. Or was it lust?

But she couldn’t have him, she knew that.

So she was there to ask her dearest father to rid her of these thoughts and desires, and cleanse her soul. So she could be at peace. So she could sleep. She couldn’t go a night without seeing his face in her dreams, tormenting her with dreamy eyes and fin—

But this woman wouldn’t just let her.

Humming along to the hymn the choir sang, Ana got on her knees in front of one of the seats.

“This is absurdity and blasphemy in its highest form, child,” the elderly clergy woman scolded in a hushed whisper, leaning close to her. “You can’t walk around in that—“

“Hush,” Ana breathed, holding a hand to her lips, her lashes flushed against her face as her eyes quivered close. “I’m here for Him,” she added, holding her palms up in prayer, “not you. So please..”

“If you don’t get up and leave, child, I’ll be forced to humiliate you before all these people gathered here—“

“What exactly is my offense?” Ana retorted quietly, still maintaining her posture, and keeping her eyes closed. “Why are you pestering me?”

“You can’t be in here, child,” she replied, ignoring the rudeness she displayed.

“Why not?” Ana demanded. “Is the house of God only for a selected few?”

“No,” the woman retorted, her eyes hardening as it swept over Ana’s dress, “but it’s definitely not for people dressed like you.”

“What?” Ana scoffed, finally flicking her eyes open. “So that’s why you wanna send me out, ma’am? Really? Because of my dress?”

“Yes, child,” the woman replied in a firm, remorse-empty voice. “You have to leave. Now.”

Ana let out another scoff of disbelief, flipping her hair away from her face. “But I’m just trying to pray!”

“Just get up and leave. Don’t push me,” she warned. “We honor God here, so if you’re not going to do that with us, you have to leave.”

“But—“

“Quick, move it,” she cut in bluntly, roughly grabbing Ana by the arm, “before the priests notice the ruckus.”

“Ow!” Ana winced in pain, snatching her arm away. “Fine! I’ll walk on my own.”

“What’s the matter here, Paula?”

Freezing to the spot, Ana slowly turned her head to the direction of where the question had come from, a familiar tingling shooting up her spine.

And when she saw him standing there, the tall priest with dark, brooding hazel-grey eyes, she cleared her throat, holding her head up.

Paula slid her a vile, crossed look, her eyes flashing.

But Ana didn’t see that.

Her gaze was locked instead, against the priest’s hazel-grey one, lost for a moment in the tiny flecks of gold that were scattered in the pools of grey and white.

Slowly, Jeremy’s gaze left her face and trailed down her body, taking in the slightly exposing velvet dress that clung to her seductive body.

His eyes darkened momentarily as they lingered on her supple cleavage, and he quickly cleared his throat, tearing his gaze away from her body.

Whoever held the mic on the altar cleared their throat loudly, causing an interruption.

And glancing back at the altar just once, Jeremy grabbed Ana by the wrist and stormed towards the side door, away from the flabbergasted Paula, and a curious congregation.

When they were outside the chapel doors, he turned his gentle gaze on her, clearing his throat.

“You do know you’re not supposed to come to the chapel dressed like that, right?” He asked in a casual tone, keeping his eyes on her face as they ascended the steps of the large front porch.

There was something enchanting about her eyes, that seemed to rope him into a forbidden place.

Her pouty lips, full and sensuous, were not helping matters either.

He silently chided himself, averting his gaze.

“I don’t see anything wrong—“ she gasped as she missed a step, tumbling forward.

But the priest was fast enough to throw an arm around her waist before she hit the ground, catching her.

He stared at her for a few moments, his eyes sharpening around the edges. “Careful,” he breathed, his warm fingers pressing into her skin.

Flustered, and thrilled, she nodded, her breath coming out in ragged puffs, and he slowly pulled her up, his fingers setting her skin ablaze as they trailed up her back.

Then he fixed her a pointed, curious gaze. “Why are you here?”

Swallowing a lump in her throat, and suddenly battling with a racing heart, Ana shifted on her feet, resuming her ascension down the stairs.

Then she bit down on her bottom lip. “I have some confessions to make,” she murmured, lifting her head to hold his gaze.

“Confessions?” Jeremy asked, cocking a brow slightly. “Well you can come back later for that,” he added without waiting for a response. “The general confessional will be held in the eve—“

“Private confessions,” Ana interrupted, fluttering her gaze across his features slowly. “They’re too explicit for public ears.”

Jeremy swallowed, his Adam’s Apple bobbing underneath his black cassock.

“What are they about? Your confessions,” he queried, although a part of his mind nagged him for doing just that.

He sensed he knew what they were, already.

Ana, whose gaze now strayed somewhere beyond the priest’s face, let out a deep, longing-filled sigh, her expression turning rapturous.

“Lustful desires and fantasies.”