Jude hasn't always being an optimistic woman. Furthemore, the combat that endured for ages. Ages of heartbreaks, endless sorrow, bleak melancholy and shed crystal tears, embodying each fragment of her befall and dynamic roller coaster of her life, fueled with failures.

What granted her ultimate felicity and sufficient comfort was God's second chance. She readily embraced it with open arms as a God blessing. A new celestial roof under God's hand. A better job than singing in the local nightclubs, boozing insane quantity of sinful, insatiable liquor, fancing and getting laid whether in the filthy, reeking of sex restrooms or old, grubby motel rooms which were reserved by the one night stand lovers as brisk walks divided them from the bed. Bed which was temporarily being resided by their mortal fleshy bodies as on the morning after were transformed into barrens, as a result of their sex battlefield. Shrivelled bed sheets. Collected discarded garments which were carelessly tossed on the floor by sheeting them. Ravishing red lipstick stained on the bed sheets and pillows, as a result of the former nightclub singer's lustful, daring kisses. The beds' springs jingling as they frequently sprung under the mattresses, interweaving with the muffled, sensual moans which floated in the motel rooms.

Nonetheless the first years as a nun were perfectly alleviating for her until she met the love of her life or rather her love interest, whom she firstly laid passionately eyes on and thinks he hung the moon since their first encounter. He was actually her dream come true, although their already took solemn vows of celibacy, stone hearts which were almost impossible for being poured with its love and lust potions, bewitching them.

Their relationship conveyed quickly from professional into a platonic one as their once a week coq-au-vin dinners, sharing similar views and ideas on saving wretched souls and their indisputably potent chemistry united them as a bond which has a great potential as a couple, regardless an unwed or a wed one. 2 essences mingling along as its handicaps are being ebbed.

Frank and Timothy were the sole men ever in her life who treated her well unlike her one-night stand lovers even her former fiancé, Casey.

Today it wasn't one of the best days in Jude's life as well. She was sitting as usually in her austere office as the light which dispersed through her office's window bathed the room in light, illuminating it, whereas the light illuminated as its lighter nuances of her rigid, conservative habit and dark wimple acquired light-toned ebon tinges. The former promiscuous nightclub singer was playing disquietly with her long, slim fingers after finishing with perusing recently committed patients' files by studying their biographies and the motives why they're jailed in the mental hospital. Her polished, cherry wood bureau was adorned rather with her pair of eyeglasses which sat motionlessly on the bureau, followed by letter opener and rosary beads as each bead glimmered past her hazelish-brown eyes which absent-mindedly, glassily wandered in each direction of her office even idly glimpsing her en-suite bedroom's shut door.

Lately she has been thinking of committing suicide or putting an end to her existence since the blonde couldn't any longer overcome her melancholy over her past even the mistakes she did, besides the glacial desolation which encompassed her for not having a lover or a love companion to alleviate her, persuading her she's still beautiful and feel the love from a representative of the opposite sex which Jude hasn't experienced ever in the roller coaster of her tough life, flooded with galore hindrances. Under the notion of lately it wasn't just seconds, minutes even hours. It has been days since the middle-aged sister of the church was overthinking, besides dithering whether if she should grasp the letter opener in her elvish, smooth hand and slit her wrists or perhaps her throat or otherwise leave it untouched from she took it. Namely her classy obsidian purse in her en-suite bedroom. No other living soul like Frank, Mary Eunice, Carl, Mother Claudia even Timothy, the love of her life, didn't acknowledge her impending intentions.

On one hand, the middle-aged lady dithered to kill herself because once she just takes the sharp object even its honed edge lightly, scarcely brushes her mossy as apricot, milky wrist's flesh, she's far from pigheadedly, radically determined to permit its honed edge of her letter opener pierce even slash though the suicide was a sin. On other hand, the blonde was fearful to do it as her instincts and intuition were convincing her to proceed with living her life even as a nun.

"What shall I do anymore?" The woman of the cloth muffled a jaded whisper by exhaling sharply after playing with her fingers as one of her hands timidly was approaching its letter opener.

Shortly after the razor was in her trembling hands, her honey brown pools lowered to the razor by scrutinizing it as the patients' incessant bewails collided in the dull walls of the asylum which were perfectly normal for any staff member, regardless a security guard, a nun, orderlies even the Monsignor, himself.

Her physical and mental stamina verged to survive since the silver paperknife was already in her hands, balling her fists until a handful of door raps interrupted her train of suicidal thoughts. Through the mosaic door's glass was visible a tall, masculine figure, dressed up in ecclesiastical dark shirt, trousers and blazer hugged his discreetly toned body. Once her gaze met the door's mosaic glass, she left the letter opener directly on her desk by exclaiming plainly:

"Yes, Monsignor? Come in!"

"Hello Jude!" As soon as he entered by opening the door by closing it behind him within seconds later, the blonde couldn't suppress a growing beaming smile on her naturally rosy-coloured lips as they danced its own song of the joy.

"Hello Timothy! I haven't been expecting ya so far. I mean," Suddenly his chocolate brown eyes peeped at the letter opener on her lacquered, hardwood desk by spotting it as she acknowledged his scourge of solicitude predominating on his facial expression he recently wore as a mask. Mask, expressing his true self when it comes up to dangers especially affecting his secret love interest as well. Her heart raced as severely pulsation frequently increased its megawatt intensity of the heart beat. "It's not what it looks like." At last but not least, there were no tracks or piece of evidence for gore even stabbing with the razor, itself. Nonetheless, it left swarm of unanswered questions for the aspiring, juvenile man of the cloth.

What the older woman attempted to do was to conceal what Timothy had on his mind. It was his sixth sense, coercing him she's going to take her own life with that razor, no matter if it resembled pristine or already used for any purposes.

First and foremost, Timothy commenced to wonder why the paper knife was sitting inertly on the desk. Second, what his favorite nun might to do with this sharp, nevertheless exceedingly dangerous and menacing its being life with sinister circumstances when the soul dwells out its mortal body, made of flesh and blood? His third question which whirled as a whirlpool in his train of thoughts was is Jude actually considering the self-harm even suicide as a solution to her own problems even if he knew partly about her grim past via the elder nun, Mother Claudia? Her grim past which was boxed in a Pandora's chest box, full of gloomy and unbelievable mysteries behind her past which developed her character by learning from her mistakes and improving herself as a person. If she was actually, on the contrary, is her past a rational motive to do it? Wasn't it unarguably bland even blunt and impulsive decision of hers to put an end to her precious life? That's he thought eventually.

"Does it looks like somebody has been suicidal, doesn't it?" His mammoth, amusingly warm hand reached down for the letter opener even if the older lady didn't want Timothy to expose the most morbid secret of her. Literally killing herself and ending her endless, soreful pain and lack of love which she endured for ages. His cunning, astute intuition and instincts reminded him something atrocious was looming on the horizon as pre-suicide barriers encircled Jude, trapping her in the hollow of the death's darkness. The sole savior of the hollow and its death's darkness was the love of her life whom she had impure thoughts for a handful of years since the Roman Catholic church bought Briarcliff and turned it in a mental hospital for criminally insane.

"N-No! Timothy, it doesn't even look like," She was cut off in her mid-sentence as soon as he inspected from closer the silver sharp object as he arched momentarily an eyebrow, disapproving her stutter in her utterance. "I just used the letter opener for a message which I received via the mailbox, thanks to Sister Mary Eunice!" The holy woman tried to find a lie to conceal her real motives behind using the letter opener as if she was a little girl who was caught in trouble, thanks to her parents as if Timothy played the role of her parent.

"I don't have any piece of evidence behind the mysterious message you have received from the mailbox, thanks to her, but," He paused by clearing his throat by slamming the letter opener by casting a scrutiny look into her flushed complexion as she chewed her bottom lip in uneasy manner. "The truth is banished from what you are saying. Jude, please, don't do this to yourself at least!"

"What are you thinking I'm doing?" She questioned in mellow voice as he approached her with light, hardly audible for her sensitive ears steps as if a ghost just roamed in her office by fixing her stare on his handsome, doting face which wore doubtless concern, incapable of wiping off it.

"Being suicidal? Jude, please, don't do this," All of a sudden, she yanked the razor again by aiming its honed, silver edge by rolling lightly one of her sleeves to expose slight creaminess of her pale flesh's forearm in front of Timothy's mortified chocolate brown pools by witnessing her pre-death scene which he abhorred to behold with his being. Further, his right hand cut him off as his sentence abided unfinished.

"Timothy, you don't have any idea what it costs me to put an end to this stupid, barren life of mine! You don't even know my story to pity me."

"Jude," All of a sudden, the younger man placed on top of his right hand's shoulder his hand by attempting to soothe her as she dropped accidentally the letter opener in a swift, absentminded motion as if it was oblivious to her, without averting her hazel eyes of his warm chocolate brown eyes, fueled with indisputable benevolence and lovingness as his reassuring, beaming smile was her Achilles' Heel. The clinking sound of the razor fumbling on her office's flooring was overlooked by the both members of the clergy. It sent shivers down her body of sweetness, pleasure and mild embarrassment once she felt his creaminess contacting the rigid, wool habit's fabric which clothed her shoulder. "You aren't supposed to do this. What chimes you to give yourself to the death to finish you to bones for the sin's sake?"

"The pain is timeless. I've tried my best to," His other hand's fingers cupped her chin by tilting her head to meet his gaze without reluctance though her obvious impotent crysis she experienced.

"Jude, my rare bird! Look at me!" The composure of his voice which he possessed was gone as it sounded more commanding, domineering when it came up to his favorite nun's welfare. The delicateness of his fingers caressing her jawline were hypnotizing even spellbinding her even with a single touch of his muscle which contacted or brushed her skin. Without an ado, she obediently followed his instructions by not bickering back. "It would be a shame once if I lose you, my rara avis! You shouldn't punish yourself with this especially being suicidal when I'm here and you have my love."

"Your love?" Her voice was as mellow as velvet when the blonde enquired as he nodded humbly, affirming her words clearly. She couldn't repress her impulse of chewing her bottom lip in coy, girlish manner. What it was indeed quizzical for her was his confession and his attempt to soothe her. She lastly found peace underneath his touch even his honeyed words as they jingled angelic anthems in her ears. "Oh! Timothy, you don't have any idea I've,"

"Shu, shu, shu, Jude! Don't be too fearful! I know what do you actually feel for me, in spite of you try to hide it as well. I know how much you do love me because I love you too!" Suddenly their faces' distance closed abruptly as she inhaled inwardly as his cryptically alluring cologne reached her nose as her tender nostrils flared as the proximity was no longer a gap, looking into one another's eyes with pure love, desire and perhaps unarguable lust. No explaination was necessary for their potent, howsoever, indubitable magnetic bond they have shaped by themselves. Their might chemistry was boiling and boiling as the possibility of chemical equation, despite their slight age gap and somewhat different worldviews, rendered even the greater chance of having a marvelous secret love affair, regardless their took hallowed vows for church, God and religion's sakes. The elder nun's heard molted once Timothy mentioned the word love and opted to reassure her even being beyond touched by his holy kindness for saving her from the worst and most fatal thing she might has ever thought of. Comitting suicide.

"Timothy, you don't have any clue with who actually do you working even together on your Rome dream!"

"Don't make it complicated! I know who you're. You're a spectacular woman with big and golden heart, besides possessing strong and persistent character! Never mistake it with the mistakes of your past. Never and ever!" His berry-coloured, soft lips hardly brushed hers just seconds before sealing his with hers by resiliently silencing her in a melting, loving kiss. The kiss which was a medicament of rescuing her from the pitch-black darkness of her melancholic, lethal thoughts of harming even killing herself. "And that's why I admire you for what you've become, Jude! I love you!" He suddenly pressed his lips against hers as she wanted to withdraw or somewhat resist its taste of love which she might never savor ever in her life until instead of listening to the inner scorching, wrathful God's voice, echoing in her frozen mind, she let herself to relish by sinking profoundly, slowly in the kiss. The both secret lovers shut their eyelids by letting themselves to convey in much different world, tantalizing each other.

In the interim, the head of Briarcliff clasped her arms around his strong, muscular shoulders as he was leaning past her, whereas one of his hands snatched her wimple in a swift motion in no time by tossing it carelessly on the floor which liberated her lion golden ringlet of silken old Hollywood curls to descend down her upper back as the same hand ran its fingers through her long wavy honey hair, combing it by admiring its softness. Jude softly purred with each passing second as their kiss intensified and became more aggressive as his other hand braced her upper back, their wet tongues began dueling against one another though Jude's one won its dominance over his. Thereafter she plugged it in his mouth by deepening the kiss into a French one. Muffled, satin moans escaped their lips between the kiss. Their hearts heavily hammered in their chests. She promptly forgot about the suicidal thoughts at last. The hexing even passionate kiss quickly solved her issue with the suicidal thoughts for which Jude was cocksurely happy.

At last but not least, they broke off the kiss as they withdrew with scarcely an inch their faces, taking their time to admire one another's faces as his hand which caressed her hallowed ringlet of golden tresses shifted down to her shoulder, rubbing it though he wasn't supposed to touch a nun than her face and hands.

"I love you so much, Timothy! You don't have any idea how much you did help me." The blonde fessed as she wasn't capable of escaping the thought of the piece of moment they shared along. Their first romantic kiss. Especially with the man she has always hankered to share it sincerely and personally. Their smiles shone on their gleaming, charming complexions, highlighting its parchment skin tone they possessed, glittering.

"I'm really happy I helped you to overcome your suicidal thoughts, my rara avis! I'd like to hear it once again from you." The younger man's calm tone contrasted his authoritative caption as he wanted to hear her promise of not overthinking even pondering deeply in her rain of thoughts about suicide and self-harm ever again which murderously distresses him. "Promise me you will never think of committing suicide even depressing yourself and thinking about death!"

"I promise!" She nodded modestly her head in agreement, formally confirming his words.