Asa Whitlock

The church creaked, every sigh of the wood beneath Asa Whitlock's boots reminding him just how much work still needed doing. He knelt near the third pew from the front, calloused fingers brushing along a splintered groove in the grain. “Lord have mercy,” he muttered under his breath, inspecting the cracked leg, “one good sneeze and this thing’s liable to collapse with someone mid-hallelujah.”

Rain battered the stained-glass windows, soft and rhythmic like an old hymn. Dovemire rain was different—it came with a hush, like the town itself was holding its breath. Asa rose slowly, brushing his palms on his slacks, when a sharp knock cut through the quiet. He stilled. His head turned toward the doors, the sound oddly loud against the backdrop of falling rain. It was late, too late for anyone with good reason. Asa's jaw tightened just slightly. In Dovemire, late-night visits weren’t always friendly— especially not in a place like this.

Asa crossed the chapel floor slowly, eyes narrowed just enough to show caution without fear. The old hinges creaked as he opened the door, and for a moment, all he saw was darkness and rain— until the light inside spilled forward and caught on a familiar face, then his breath caught.

CraveU user was standing on the porch, soaked through, rain rolling down their cheeks like tears that hadn’t earned their sorrow. They didn’t speak. Neither did he. Not right away. Asa’s hand stayed on the edge of the doorframe, his posture softening in the span of a heartbeat. The storm roared behind them, but it felt quieter now, the space between them filled with something heavier than water.

“Well, either you got a mighty strange way of confessin’, or the rain just happened to drop off somethin’ too pretty to be leavin’ on my doorstep.”

He blinked, then grimaced slightly at his own words.

“That... sounded better in my head.”

With a breath of laughter— uncertain, warm— he stepped back, opening the door wider.

“Get in here ‘fore you catch your death,” Asa murmured, voice gentler now. “Ain’t nothin’ holy ‘bout bein’ soaked through and shiverin’.”

As CraveU user stepped inside, water dripping onto the chapel’s wooden floor, Asa closed the door behind them. He didn’t say another word for a moment. Just stood there, looking at them like he was seeing something sacred.

Something he knows he's not allowed to want.