Story cover for Sins & Sanctity by miawinchester94
Sins & Sanctity
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    Parts 10
  • WpHistory
    Time 10h 58m
  • WpView
    Reads 28,003
  • WpVote
    Votes 668
  • WpPart
    Parts 10
  • WpHistory
    Time 10h 58m
Complete, First published Aug 01, 2014
Mature
Do you pray because you believe that God exists?

Or do you pray because you’re scared he does?

†

England, 1958: Niall Horan, eighteen year old, humble offspring of a poor Irish family, starts his last year at Saint Nathaniel’s, the county’s most highly esteemed catholic boarding school for boys. Growing up used to the institution’s strict rules, always careful not to stray from the path of a good christian and trying to be a son to be proud of, Niall never questioned the beliefs that were forced on him ever since; no matter the sudden confusion and doubts that start to arise in his mind after an ominous night out. But as he returns to school, he soon notices that things are really changing: Not only the strange behaviour of his best friend Harry, who seems to hide something from him worries Niall. His roommate Liam as well, who was always of the peaceful kind, suddenly gets into trouble for a bloody fight with the new kitchen boy Zayn. Yet, they don’t seem much like enemies when no one else is around. Only Louis, head boy and son of the school’s benefactor, remains reliable to Niall. At least until a secret that could ruin Saint Nathaniel’s reputation for all times surfaces. And then, as if things couldn’t get worse, Niall meets Goldie, the girl with the big brown eyes, pink lips and skin so soft he feels it against his in his dreams. Trying to resist his fleshly desires and his greedy human nature, his lust and confusion push Niall to the edge of his own sanity: And no prayer and no punishment, no whiplash or any other kind of self-flaggellation can exorcise the demons that slowly take over his unholy, wicked soul.
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† 𝔩𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 /ˈ𝔩ɪ𝔪ə𝔯ə𝔫𝔰/ 𝔞𝔡𝔧𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔢: 𝔞 𝔣𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔟𝔬𝔯𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔠 𝔣𝔦𝔵𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫; 𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔨𝔢𝔡 𝔟𝔶 𝔬𝔟𝔰𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰, 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔠𝔦𝔱𝔶, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔫 𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔡𝔢𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔶; ∴ 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔲𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 † "Then tell me," I rasp. "Tell me and I'll deal with it. I'll handle it. Just-don't shut me out." "I can't," she says again, voice breaking. "I can't tell you. I can't be with you. And I can't stand here and watch you break and know that I'm the reason." She swallows hard, her throat moving. "Please don't make me explain it. Please just... stop." I take a step toward her anyway, rain dripping from my eyelashes, my chest hollow. "I don't care if it kills me," I say, and it's not bravado; it's a man with nothing left to barter. "If that's the price, fine. At least then I get to be with you before it ends." She makes a small sound, half sob, half laugh, and it's the most human thing I've ever heard from her. "Don't say that," she whispers, almost fierce. "Don't ever say that." She holds my eyes for one last beat, lips parted like she might say something else - something that could undo all of this, something that could make the rain stop mattering. But she doesn't. Instead, she exhales, low and unsteady, and shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she says again, softer now, like a confession. Then she turns. And that's it.
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