✞ We're all searching

for someone whose demons

play well with ours ✞

--- *** ---
--- The Next Morning ---

Once the following day became a victim of the early morning's celestially aureate, thickly vibrant mantle outcasting the baby blue sky and mounting up its peaks of the heavenly highlands, subsequently you and Timothy woke up bizarrely earlier than the usual as you were getting ready for the day, took individually a hot, steamy shower and sharing a long breakfast as Timothy's appetite leveled out abruptly. Yet the scale of lost pounds that were apprended to the holy priest's weight inscribed prominently its canvas of his bizarrely slender anatomy that towered yours.

The vibrantly sympathetic sun's coherent rays managed to pierce relentlessly sinister the kitchen window profusely filtering the room, whilst you and the older gentleman seated on the dining table. The marvelously mellifluous, everlasting birdsongs contorted across the façades as the rich composition of their elating ballad didn't vanish into the thin air since the very wee hours of the morning, in spite of the commonly frigid Boston early winter climate decrying its sharp reprimand to predominate over the late-autumn's surreptitiously dim inkling to cease from plastering its climate.

A quarter an hour behind the coherently secure walls of the kitchen swaddled cozily your very presences as your long fingers registered to cradle graciously the mugs of freshly brewed, happily steamy caffeine liquid pooling almost fully and permeating its vaguely silver, blissful smoke to engulf the rim of the cups. The plates of ordinary sandwiches ornamented with tomatoes, cucumbers and some cheese as the slice of bread was exquisitely buttered accompanied the very dining table though their meager distance inching with the cups of hot brown liquid.

"For how long did you consider that resignation?" Your Maryland lilt prominently punctured your posed question after the dozens of vowels and syllables promiscuously clashed for domination to construct one of the icebreakers to peter out the unevenly bone-chilling doldrum asphyxiating the site's walls. Squinting up your E/C bijous to prong graciously the aspiring Monsignor's coffee brown with a fashionably bashful smile embellishing your façades. The fiendishly sheer, inquisitive aroused interest to discover further his intentions and real motives behind his resignation of the diocese which he won't serve any longer and be reckoned as a member of the clergy.

"Once in a while since we met each other." Sluggishly buffing a broadly delicate, velvet smile plastering past the British aristocrat's naturally baby pinkish, scrumptiously plumpish lips, they curled at the logically rational utterance, hardly amenable to ebb off the intensity of the decibels. His virginally delicate, long fingers registered to lift the mug up to swig a handful of tiny, innocuous sips hydrating its infectiously scrumptious, bitter morning coffee's liquid lingering on his tongue tip.

Little did you know how such innocuous breakfast conversations and sharing mugs of coffee and breakfast dishes could be incredibly bewitching its profoundly vibrant vibes escorting you and the childishly gracious smiles blooming upon your mouths. How such little things that could be interpreted as doing chores or eminently arduously tiresome activities could be capable of bonding unceasingly potent you and the devotional member of the clergy?

Was that some kind of an invincibly untouchable, inexorable hex spellbinding you with the most insatiably contagious aftermaths? Nobody knew except the superb divine power to supervise its children of his creations even if they weren't the most pious and the kindest souls that have ever ghostwritten the world's inches.

"That's indeed intriguing! Haven't you thought about the aftermaths of your resignation as well?" In the meantime, you lolled pensively reckless your tongue to lick your upper and lower lip momentarily shortly before heaving the entity for a handful of guiltlessly sweet, infectiously bitter sips to mischievously tweaking the insides of your cheeks. Childlike inquisitiveness vindictively inevitable blazed your E/C minerals obdurately fierce to illuminate palishly its true nature of yours. "Huh?" Then your dainty, silken fingers maneuvered to reach for the sandwich and docilely amenable grazing its first bite as your pearly-white teeth grinded unceasingly stubborn until the sandwich transmuted into tiny, soft food chunks plastering the beginning of your tongue and smearing its chunks to embroider your teeth.

"I have thought about the aftermaths as well, Y/N!" The haphazardness of the British aristocrat's muffled gruffy, masculinely dry cough to clear his throat with the palm of his hand politely, throughout his coffee brown big, roundish embers shot a fleet glance at the window for a split second, worrying his front dearly white teeth to dawdle on his bottom angelically cherub lip. Gullible incredulity sharply inscribed your delicate, feminine facial attributes as you assimilated his low hum in response. "It won't cost me a lot and it will be rather better to not being a priest, because there are plenty of reasons."

"W-What urges you to be emphatic behind your decision that will be official?" Shortly before masticating the very second bite of the sandwich, throughout you managed your spidery fingers to cradle the sheerly lily-white napkin to bedaub gingerly, solemnly your greasy, sandwich-stained fingers and mouth immediately and then take a modestly lukewarm sip of the caffeine beverage. "What do you think you will benefit from pursuing different dreams than your golden one?"

"I just think it's a matter of question by judging my position and what it restricts me from in general." In the interim, the pious holy man manifested to knit his potent, dexterous fingers once his pristinely colossal hands perched on top of the kitchen table, worrying his front teeth to nibble the raw spot of his bottom baby-pinkish lip. "It isn't going to harm anyone or me if the resignation is a fact within a few hours only. It is just a question that I am keep asking myself after I met you, Y/N! It is indescribable what it feels like to be confined in your solemnly took vows and marrying your very soul and very body to the Lord."

"Mhm!"

"I just want to savor the very flavor of the life what has cooked for me, however, I turned a blind eye on that a long time ago when I was stubborn as a mule to listen to my family's word and what will be the foreshadowed sequence."

--- *** ---

--- An Hour Later or So ---

Just an hour after you and the aspiring Monsignor have finished your morning routine you're going through daily since his breathtakingly authentic stay in your very property, consequently you both fled your home as you headed in totally different directions. Different divinely gilt ambitions pearly anticipated for your very presence to fulfill your forthcoming engagements fueling your chaotic daily schedules. Different dynamic roller coaster anticipated for its impending passengers to ride relentlessly agitated. Different newfangled surprises and wry woes anticipated to opt stumbling its warriors aiming to their current and daily goals.

Unlike you who had to get back to your work and fulfilling utterly your business duties diligently modest, the devotional member of the church was on other mission today. Consulting with Father Malachi and bestowing him his ultimate, categorical motives for his lethally final resginantion from the diocese and no longer longing to pursue childishly eager, headstrong his golden, power-hungry ambitions that were nothing than an argently lifeless lake of vacant hollows of hopes for celestially euphoric, abstractly satisfying future he's plunged abysmally in its mistily profound, unknowledgeable.

The sheerly controversial fluctuation of a decision that may dazzlingly affect his life and solely would be paged up in the previous chapters of his sacred, sophisticated lifestyle of serving solemnly the diocese in the book of his life have refilled the patchy cavities of his vortex of thoughts eventually. The cloyingly insatiable flavor of the liberty from the sacred icons, the sacred façades he's regularly set foot inside and his divinely spiritual marriage to God sweetened his tongue tip tenderly.

Shortly after the British compatriot have stepped inside his mentor's office after his refreshing roam after passing galore of buildings, trees and an enormous crowd of strangers on their way to work, school or to their current cardinal destination, thereafter the private interaction between the both devotional holy men suffocated the very walls of the senior priest's office.

"Timothy, you wanted to see me!" The reassuringly pleasant northern lilt of the older gentleman fashionably abraded his blunt utterance rumbling its lump up his Adam's apple, ushering with his mammoth, ghostly pale hand his protégé to seat on the regally convenient wine red Lawson chair against his professional hemlock bureau. In the meanwhile, the obdurate attempts to obscure beneath its translucently subtle thin veil his beamingly welcoming, benevolently altruistic smile crudely blossoming upon his pale-pinkish, thin lips as they curled at each sloppily dripping vowel and syllable's authentic exemplar.

"Y-Yes, Father! It won't cost you more than five minutes to discuss it in a New York minute." A heavy sigh expelled from the younger gentleman's frail lungs as the unnerving adrenaline of his childlike self-consciousness contorted its substantial hoary cloud pumping into his veins and the purely icy disquietude pulsating into his frail skeleton, settling his masculinely mammoth, pristinely palish hands on top of the bureau, whereas his cocoa brown big, roundish bijous brilliantly lancing his mentor's piercing gaze and stabilizing promisingly inviting the rich maintenance of eye contact, adequately colligating the twain of bijous intensifyingly. "It's just something I can sincerely inform you as my final decision." The velvety honey-mouthed undertones of the British compatriot's coy mumble foaming his berry-coloured, wet tongue and enervating formidably his vocal tissues even underneath its meager decibels composing its own ballad tingled angelic anthems into Father Malachi's flexible ears, almost heeding to the outstanding noise piercing the coherent walls of the site and waltzing altogether with the silver-tonguedly beatific morning birdsongs' ode.

"I'm listening, Timothy! You know that you can always count on me to spill the beans of something that burdens your shoulders with its deadly severe weight!"

The profoundly vibrant, unqiue relationship the duo have authentically extraordinary thrived through the progressing weeks, months and years since their initial encounter just a couple of years ago delegated to seek council or consolation through the toughest times from one another even ventilating sophisticatedly extraordinary topics that drained out each word deftly constructed their perspectives' opulent cataract of their positions. They can spend galore of restlessly stoic hours of expanding their confabs once the very flames of the topic's anodyne level petered out and kindling the very wildfire's savagely ferocious ingles cornering them to halt it. They can rely on each other in the toughest times. The unmistakenly megawatt platonic bond of resembling a father and a son paired the platonic pairing. After all, the senior religious man of the cloth could be amidst the last hopes of his protégé if the cloudy jet-black, remorselessly infernal darkness chased him down until the desk entirely ingested greedily mischievous his own prey.

"I know it won't be easy to spill the beans, at least it will be one by one and perpetually as I was thinking over that question lately."

"What do you mean specifically with this?" Even though the older man could softly inhale the feather-soft inkling of Timothy's coyly sheepish insecurity to expel its burden encumbering hypodermically his shoulders about his final decision to resign from the church lastly after building a sufficiently rich career and obtaining truly unique experience through his interactions and his divinely hallowed grail. "If it is the crucial reason about your heavy heart, you are always welcome on second thought to change it immediately and eliminate from your routine!"

"I just don't feel my heart any longer belongs to the church. It's like a shadow chasing me eagerly until it consumes me with its relentless remorses that I am futilely pouring my heart into something that was once my crucial goal." Clearing gruffily his throat after muffling with the palm of his feather-soft, parchment hand the dry, cold-blooded cough mischievously tickling his berry-coloured tongue, meantime, Father Malachi registered to dangle his meaty, strong fingers around the translucent glass of refreshingly lukewarm liquid to hydrate his organs and oral caverns after smooching gently the flimsy glass's rim and wrapping his baby-pinkish, brim lips to starkly nimble broad its oral shaft. "Don't get me wrong! It granted me plenty of memorable and untouchable moments I have shared through my experience, howsoever, the times are altering one of these days." The suddenness of the older holy man yanking graciously a stark lily-white napkin to daub emphatically its crystalline dew-stained mouth was escorted docilely by a healthily breathy, cold-bloodedly attentive snicker seething up his throat, lingering his beamingly altruistic, vibrant smile's spine-chillingly obdurate undulate past his oral slit. "One of these days when your perspective is starting to change for better or worse, depending on anybody's worldview. One of these days when I'm starting to be agitated to unmistakenly question the difference between my contemporary position and the presumably forthcoming if my final decision empowers insistingly. I'm genuinely serious what I'm saying up to that moment."

"I seriously comprehend your motives and what you're trying to convey with its friendly reminder, nevertheless, is there something urging you to make that decision?" At the moment, Timothy channelized his throat muscles to flex once the unevenly bitter lump seethed until its insisting pleading motion conveyed its friendly reminder to be swigged gamely after its strong-willed quarantine. The ambience in general ever-lastingly unremitting intensified its coherently effacious barriers to confine the platonic pairing even when Timothy's mind opted to be sort and his fresh vortex of thoughts to build its unremittingly rational, pretty explainable stimulus sardonically knelling him to harmonize his life and utterly dedicating his very soul to its majestically authentic, down-to-earth sanctum where he belonged the most promptly. "Are you planning to alter your life in much different direction? You know, you can always count on me to convey your worries and stimulus chiming you for something you wished for! I'm not here to judge you at all."

"It's the fact that there's somebody that altered me and she helped me after the first exorcism and pampering me even when she's way too kindhearted. I would like to resign from the church, no matter the aftermaths and whatever everybody will say about my final, categorical decision."

--- *** ---

--- A Several Hours Later or So ---

"The English Monsignor, known for his two homelands resigned from the church earlier this morning after his private encounter with his mentor Father Malachi!" The television news journalist's nimbly brim lips twitched ever-lastingly at the breaking news' stark construe associated with the former aspiring Monsignor's resignantion from the diocese at last, whereas Frank and Jude were manifesting to snuggle on the cozily teal couch in the living room as his masculinely strong, securely muscly arms stably, promisingly braced his love interest's upper back, nuzzling her delicate, alabaster nape of her neck vulnerably, affectionately. "Notwithstanding his final decision, Timothy Howard served the diocese for a whole decade! According to him, he didn't even regret an ounce of his definiteness and that wouldn't bring him pangs of conscience in the further future."

"Good for him!" The haphazardness of the former policeman's strawberry-coloured, wet tongue demonically nimble crafting his bare, fiendish sarcasm as the decibels of his revelation plummeted down and tingling alarming tones into Judy's vulnerable, petite ears and fixating his lapis lazuli embers flaring the vivid television screen glimmering its flashing light past their eyesights. "He better enjoy his free lifestyle with the unpriest clothing cradling his muscles."

"Let his hair down as well, Frank! It's actually a new beginning for him that he will sonly accommodate to."

"I'm thinking that yar favorite Briarcliff patient is his hook, line and sinker of his soul!"

"No shit! I'm certain he has finally found his happiness that will rein him and his current value system."

"God bless him and his Juliette!"

Author's Note: Since Timothy resigned from the church and there was a wee cameo of Frank and Jude, subsequently what are your thoughts on Timothy's resignation from the church and why? Do you think he made a wise decision as well? Do you think there's a possible chance the reader and Timothy to have a stable, deep friendship or at least keeping in touch with Frank and Jude even if they are supporting characters?

I hope you liked and enjoyed this chapter as well! Don't forget to leave a feedback if you have sincerely enjoyed and liked it! Don't be shy! :))