Chapter 20: Forbidden Longing

As Emil stepped outside, Tag followed, perhaps believing it was time for a walk. Yanis posed a simple question, but Emil found himself unable to answer properly, as Tag snarled every time he opened his mouth.

“Tag.”

Yanis chided the four-legged creature, its fangs still bared. Tag whimpered, acting adorably, but the display was fleeting; whenever Emil’s words grew lengthy, he would once again bristle and flash his teeth.

Their conversation was interrupted repeatedly, and before they knew it, they were nearing the cathedral. Perhaps due to Tag’s constant interference, the distance felt unusually short today.

“It was an illuminating time. Have a good night.”

“Not at all. I should be thanking you. Good night.”

After bidding the man farewell, Emil returned to his room. Through the window, he watched the man walk away, noticing how he occasionally spoke to the dog, seemingly scolding it for its ill behavior.

Soon, the man’s figure vanished from sight. As Emil changed his clothes, his hand instinctively went to his back, silently fumbling across his skin until his fingers stopped in the middle of his spine.

…….

It was the very spot where Yanis’s lips had touched just moments ago. The skin there burned as if seared by fire.

‘May I kiss you?’

‘Emil, please.’

“Hngh…”

Yanis’s voice, pleading so earnestly, echoed in his mind, its poignant tone making him feel as though tears might well up. He also recalled Yanis’s lips pressing against his back, so carefully, as if handling something precious. The memory sent a fresh surge through his chest, his heart pounding violently in his left breast, threatening to burst free.

“Yanis.”

Emil’s voice, calling the man’s name, was half-broken.

This was a voice no one, not even the God he worshipped and adored, should ever hear.

This was an emotion he had never learned to name.

“Yanis.”

Emil clamped a hand over his mouth.

No one must hear this voice. With his hand still pressed over his mouth, he mouthed the name, silently forming each syllable.

Ya

nis

“Yanis…”

He longed to see the man he had just parted ways with. Every conversation he had shared with Yanis flooded his mind—his expressions, his gestures, even the glint in his eyes. He missed all of it, every single detail.

He hated that the man spoke his mother’s name. No, it wasn’t just his mother; he hated when Yanis spoke anyone else’s name in front of him.

Everything. Everything.

Yanis.

Emil called his name, his hand still clamped over his mouth. He yearned for him so desperately.

****

That night, Emil met Yanis again.

‘Emil.’

Yanis wore elegant, formal attire, unlike anything Emil had ever seen him in.

It was a ceremonial robe.

A wedding robe.

Standing in a garden overflowing with blossoms, the man extended his hand to Emil. Emil reached for Yanis’s hand, then hesitated, looking around, for he knew it wasn’t his place to take the man’s hand today.

‘Where’s Mother?’

‘Lauren is not here.’

‘Oh.’

Mother should be here; she is the star of the wedding. Isn’t the bride usually the focus of a wedding? As Emil looked around, about to search for Lauren, Yanis grasped his hand from behind.

‘Emil.’

‘Yes?’

‘This is not Lauren’s place.’

Yanis gestured to the spot where Lauren, the bride, should have been standing.

‘This is your place.’

Yanis’s face drew close. What? Yanis’s lips pressed against Emil’s. What was happening?

“Ah, no—!”

At that moment, Emil screamed and sat bolt upright. Before his eyes was not a garden overflowing with flowers, but his own dark, cramped room.

“I—I’m insane.”

The dream’s contents replayed vividly in his mind. A flush of heat spread throughout his body, and suddenly, Emil felt a dampness between his legs.

…….

He had had a wet dream. A dream of Yanis.

****

“Oh my, Emil. What are you doing out here?”

“Ah, nothing, nothing much. I just spilled something on my handkerchief yesterday.”

“Is that so? I’ll wash it for you. Hand it over.”

Catlin, who often helped with odd jobs around the cathedral, greeted Emil cheerfully as she found him by the water in the early morning. Having watched him since his childhood, she still treated him like a boy, despite his seminary graduation.

Perhaps it was a precious handkerchief, for Emil had come out in his pajamas to wash laundry. As Catlin, laden with her own washing, extended her hand, Emil hid his item behind his back and shook his head, looking almost desperate.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve already washed it thoroughly. Um, I’ll be going now.”

“Emil—!”

Catlin called out, trying to stop him, but Emil quickly disappeared into the cathedral. Watching his retreating back, Catlin tilted her head, pondering; the handkerchief she’d glimpsed seemed much larger than she remembered.

“Hah… hah…”

Returning to his room in a single breath, Emil frantically searched for a place to hang his laundry. If it were truly a handkerchief, it wouldn’t matter where he put it, but what he had washed since dawn were his underwear and pants.

These were clothes bearing the stains of his wet dream from the previous night. Though he rarely had visitors, if someone were to unexpectedly enter to clean, this shameful secret would surely be exposed.

“I’m insane, insane.”

Left with no choice, Emil hung his pants by the window, then dragged a chair forward to spread out his underwear. He planned to quickly hide them under the bed if he heard footsteps; the bed would get soaked, but that was hardly his priority right now.

“I’m insane, Emil Raphael Reardon…”

Emil lay down, pulling the blanket over his head. He couldn’t believe what he had done.

Yanis was a man. Moreover, he was engaged to his mother.

His mother—while he still needed to understand more about her illicit actions—that did not mean Emil was allowed to harbor feelings for Yanis.

…….

Emil stared blankly outside, as if his soul had departed. After idly letting time pass, he dressed, knowing he had to attend Mass. Yet, his feet refused to move from the entrance of the sanctuary, forcing him back to his room.

“Oh? Emil, where are you going?”

“Ah… I’m not feeling well.”

When villagers, surprised to see Emil turning away from the sanctuary entrance, questioned him, he offered a vague excuse with a forced cough. Fortunately, no one seemed to doubt him.

He couldn’t even recall how he had eaten. Had he eaten with his mouth, or drunk with his nose? He remembered going to the dining hall, but nothing of what he had done there.

“Raphael, are you in there?”

……!

In the afternoon, a nun came to his door.

At the neat, crisp knock, Emil sprang up and quickly threw the clothes he had hung to dry under his bed.

“Raphael? Are you sleeping?”

“Ah, no, Sister. I’m not feeling too well… I’m just lying down for a bit.”

“Would you like to see the doctor then? He’s scheduled to come for Father’s check-up.”

……!

Emil’s eyes widened at the nun’s words. The doctor… The mere mention of his coming sent Emil’s heart into a frenzy, for the man himself was the very cause of Emil’s current state!

“……Emil?”

When Emil didn’t reply immediately, he heard the nun call his name again from outside.

“I—I mean, I’m—I’m fine. Sister, I’m quite alright. I just need a short rest, and I’ll be fine.”

“Is that so? Very well. Do tell me if you need anything. He seems quite lenient.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Subsequently, the nun’s footsteps grew fainter. As the sound receded, Emil lay back down on his bed. He forced his eyes shut, closed the window tightly, locked the door, and pulled the blanket over his head once more, desperate to block out any sound of Yanis. If he were to hear the man approaching, his body would surely react first.

This was a sin. It was an emotion utterly forbidden to a priest who had vowed to dedicate his entire life to God.

Why, though? Of course, Emil had experienced wet dreams when he was younger, before he had fully dedicated his heart to God, before entering the seminary. After he entered, he had only had one such dream.

That single instance was a day when he had been overcome by sudden lust, harboring impure thoughts all day long. The next day, Emil had confessed his sin and repented for an entire day, weeping during his confession. He found the impurity of his heart unbearable.

So, what was he to do this time? Should he go to the confessional? But that would mean telling someone else, a priest, about this. Yet, he could do nothing, absolutely nothing. He couldn’t possibly admit to harboring feelings for Yanis that went beyond family affection. He was about to become a priest, to dedicate his entire life to God.

“No…”

There would be problems. If it were known that he, a man who had graduated from seminary and was awaiting ordination, harbored such feelings—

Moreover, his mother was an Esper. The mere fact that there was an Esper in his family already brought him enough criticism. Emil trembled, clamping his hands over his mouth. No one must know. This was a story to be hidden deep in the darkness, a secret no one outside this room should ever discover.

“Hngh…”

Hot tears streamed down his face. They traced his cheeks, followed his jawline, and gathered before falling. The tears that dropped between his collarbones quickly turned cold. With each falling drop, Emil’s body shuddered.

He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for all the tears gathered at his eyelids to fall. What began as a trickle soon became a steady flow.

These feelings would end here. No one else, absolutely no one, would ever know Emil’s heart.

No, they mustn’t. In the darkness, Emil conjured Yanis’s face—the man who spoke so kindly, who offered such a gentle smile.

Now, Emil pushed all these emotions and memories back into the darkness.