Teach Me [COMPLETED✔]

18

I didn't mind the way she dressed, but right now I did. A little. She took a peak at me, her cheeks flushed.

Did she-

Was she thinking about the same thing? Did that sin free mind somehow turn wicked and dirty?

There was one way to find out. A risky one, but I was bored and honestly who would know? We were far from earshot, no one having taken a seat next to me. We sat on the farthest bench possible, and for all who happened to pay attention to us shouldn't think too much of us. We looked completely normal, dressed correctly and looking bored like many. They would only think we were father and daughter going to church together, but if the fuckers knew.

Aspen and I were far from being blood related. From being a family. We were nothing, or so I wanted to willed myself to think.

Without giving it a second thought, I uncrowded my arms. Shifting closer to Aspen, my hand dropping to her thigh.

Harmless.

Aspen didn't react, only kept looking forward with her hands on her lap. Her back straight, eyes open as she watched the priest up front. Moving her cardigan, I draped it over both our laps. Covering my hand, hiding what I was about to do.

"Don't make a sound," I whispered leaning into her as my hand roamed higher. Finding the proof that she was thinking the same thing as I.

Aspen

Church, a holy place. A place where in the past, many could go into and seek sanctuary. One of the places where you could go and ask for forgiveness. Where you would pray to God and he would forgive you. Did I have anything to ask for forgiveness? No.

I mean maybe I did, but after all. If you accept the sins you've committed, God will still let you pass the gates of heaven when you die. As long as you know what you did was wrong. And let's be honest, what I was doing wasn't wrong. Right?

Still I came to church when I could, even if I was no longer in my religious school. Just because I left didn't mean I had to stop coming here, just because I was slowly easing into society and seeing things differently didn't mean I could hold onto a little of my past.

I actually enjoyed it here, the quietness, the peace one could find here. I hadn't stopped coming, not after my mom's death. Not after everything, religion was still part of me. Would stay in me even if people shot down my beliefs. We all had the right to believe what we wanted, to pray for who we wanted.

And Chris understood that, he respected that. And he was here. He was a doctor, his logic surrounded that science saved lifes. Not praying to a man that no one has ever seen.

Yet even when he believed that, he still came with me to church. Sometimes. Only when he didn't have to be at the hospital. And lately, this would be the first time he came with me after months.

The first time he came with me was before my mother passed away, I had asked him to bring me here because I couldn't drive. Chris had brought me here without asking, had stayed with me the whole three hours I had sat up front and gone over the rosary. He didn't pressure me, didn't look at me with anything but compassion as he sat there.

Today I wore a floral dress that barely reached my thighs. I knew for a fact that it was close to being inappropriate for Sunday Mass because of the length, for the style. But the moment I saw it, I knew I wanted to wear it.

Chris and I sat together, his eyes flickering between me and the priest. I knew he was bored, but he hadn't said anything. Only letting out small sights of frustration, occasionally. I knew I had to thank him for being here, for coming when he had limited time off. And I would thank him.