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Chapter Text

People are often presented with multiple choices in their lives. Each brings different outcomes that lead to endless possibilities of “what if’s” that humans consider and ponder in the little head of theirs. A mere gesture; a twitch in the eye, stifling a yawn, things that were spoken, things that should have never been uttered, an eye-roll, or the slight curl of an individual's remark that should never have been done. It's endless. To define the possibilities that people’s choices would be infinite, and defining it would be limiting the circumstances.

At times, or most of the time, people feel envious of others for the things they are recognized for. Hidden talents that people notice. Imagining that they were the ones who were noticed instead. Thus, in all their will, they prove themselves to be worthy of the others attention, which leads to an infinite amount of options and decisions. Good ones were appraised, when terrible ones were, forgotten. 

Long gone. 

Or more wrong decisions to erase the past criminality. 

These emotions are often regretted in the end. But does it erase memories, or does it alter the future or the fate that has already been set out in each person’s life. 

No, it does not. 

Similarly to Jongwoo;

Perhaps, if Jongwoo’s steps did not pass by the House of God that one evening, it would have been different. 

What if, Jongwoo had been firm in his options rather than being sidetracked, would he have been this way?

But isn’t that what life is? Like what Oscar Wilde spoke in his words of glory; “It takes a great deal of courage to see the world in all its tainted glory, and still to love it.” Maybe if people thought about their choices and evaluated the options before them. Perhaps, dance within the macabre of each soul. Maybe, just maybe, everything could be beautiful. Glorified.

But who does read Oscar Wilde nowadays anyway. 

Heavy footfalls followed the windy road next to softer ones. Jongwoo was bruised so heavily from the punch he suffered at his cheek that he could the stitches inside of his gums. He lost a tooth from that punch in the argument last week. 

In all truth, he felt wonderful. That little bastard deserved it for calling his mother a whore.

“Eomma, how much longer?” Jongwoo asked as he took another step down the road, evening skies filtering through the horizon, casting a pinkish glow to the sky that Jongwoo’s eyes looked up. His forehead was sweating and he felt his t-shirt sticking to his back. At least the sky looked glorious and the sight of his black eye was tearing up. 

“Woo-yah, we’re closer”

His mother coo-ed her words, glancing at her son as they walked side by side. As a parent, she was worried for her boy who had terrible anger issues. Doctors only seem to anger him further and she had no choice but to force him to this church. 

She puffed out a little, pushing the hair that had fallen before her face, tucked at her ear. She noticed Jongwoo was slightly displeased at her suggestion, but she knew he would listen to her. He was a mama’s boy after all. Their steps halted in front of a building, the doors that were big and tall stood there exquisitely with the archangels Michael and Gabriel on both the doors. Jongwoo’s neck tilted upwards as the bell, the oh, so big bells began ringing, the head and golden rimmed waist moving back and forth as the doors opened with a little creak. 

As if the House of God was welcoming them wholeheartedly.

Gingerly, Jongwoo stepped in, alongside his mother who glanced around the Church. It was rather surprising that there were no attendees to be there for the evening mass. Which was for the best. They walked down the aisle, passing by the rows of benches in oak wood. Shining in the sunset glow that filtered through the cathedral glass. Its colorfulness and intricacy to detail portrayed at each nook and cranny. 

The pillars stood strong, its beauty at its height with the holy water in each pillar that led to the main altar. Jongwoo’s mother placed the holy water on her forehead, chest, and shoulders both left and right, signifying the sacred cross. After a look from his mother, Jongwoo followed suit.

Definitely not from the bottom of his heart. 

By the distance, the sound of matches were heard, the head of the material being scraped, the friction causing the small flame to be ignited as the man, wearing long dark robes lit the candles at the altar. Fragrance from the incense sticks could be smelled as he saw another young man, slightly bald, was preparing them by the corner of the altar. 

Jongwoo and his mother stood before the altar.

The man with dark, almost glossy like hair that reached his nape, parting at his forehead continued lighting up the candles. His fingers bony with scars that whispered secrets. Jongwoo’s mother gently cleared her throat, causing the man to glance at the both of them, as his fingers gently brought the lit match stick closer to his lips, blowing it out. 

Jongwoo swore, he looked like a beautiful devil in the disguise of a saint. He saw it in the flicker of the dancing flames that shone in his eyes, moments before he put out the fire. 

“Is there any assistance I could offer?” 

His voice was velvet, each syllable was announced perfectly, like a rehearsed play. Jongwoo doubted the pristineness of the place. It's a church, but Jongwoo doubted everything, deep down he felt things were not right the moment the doors opened for him.

Or maybe it is because he was a non-believer.   

“My son, Jongwoo, here would definitely require assistance. He recently has uncontrollable anger that is rather concerning. Perhaps some prayer or anything would be helpful.”

Jongwoo swore he did not need any help from this place, the man who stood before him was anything but holy. He could feel it. The man in robes turned to face Jongwoo fully, his head tilting to the side as he studied him for a moment before letting out a small hum of acknowledgement. Jongwoo avoided his steel cold gaze that lacked any semblance of warmth, his gaze dropping to the floorboards, to the priest’s legs. 

He wasn't wearing shoes?

“I suppose, a confession could help me clarify things with him.”

The priest spoke calmly, his thumb gently rubbing the purplish rosary that was encircled in his palm. His thumb slightly white from the pressure he asserted towards one particular bead that if he pressed hard enough it could melt at his fingertips into a purplish liquefied mess. Jongwoo looked back up at him, met with a calm and calculating gaze that he noticed. He did not blink much. Did he even blink in the first place? 

“Come with me”

It lacked warmth again, but his mother was pleased that Jongwoo followed without throwing a fit. He was led to a little door and the priest stepped in, with Jongwoo on the other side in the little closet-like room. There was a division between them, in a partition that had criss - cross designs, and tinted glass making him squint his eyes to notice the outlines of the priest who sat across from him. 

“So in the Lord’s name, tell me child, what bothers you.”

“Cut it out.” Jongwoo responded sharply. “Please stop pretending you’re some celestial being and you can help my anger by talking to me. It- It’s just that I am not gullible, alright?”

He was met with silence. 

Jongwoo heard the other side of the door opening, shutting back again. 

A serene voice spoke this time, with so much warmth that honey bled through each syllable. . 

“Jongwoo-ssi, this is for your own good, trust me. In the House of the Lord, no matters are left unresolved. Even if it takes the time, I am willing to disassemble, assemble and recreate. Until we reach the pinnacle of your thoughts and the serenity of your mind.”

“Well, where is the other priest? Did I scare him off?” 

He was met with a chuckle, a deep one. He could see the glimpses of this other priest from the tinted window, but he could not see him all that clearly. 

“Well, Father Kihyuk had some other issues to handle. He suggested I take over for you.”

Jongwoo hummed in response, 

“I don’t trust all this. I am only here because my mother asked me to, and these.. People only get on my nerves that lead to arguments. I don’t need your ‘healing’. If that is what you’re planning.”

The priest hummed in response. 

“Jongwoo-ssi, I am not going to perform rituals on you in the guise of healing, but to be honest, is it not liberating to act your mind without any restraints.”

Jongwoo was taken aback. Was this priest suggesting that he continue his anger? Continue beating people until chaos is ensured. Battered High- school boys in the hospital was enough evidence for his anger issues. 

“Are you serious? Aren’t you supposed to preach about some good stuff and I shouldn't be mad and we're all children of God?”

“Ahh, you make a good Priest” he heard a chuckle. “Well, I suppose I should, but is it not true that we are only behaving what the community expects us to be”.

“What do you mean?”

“Perhaps, what you did may be wrong in the eyes of the people, but it could be justified in the eyes of the Lord.” After a moment of silence the calm baritone voice continued. 

“If I may ask, what caused you to act in such a way.”

Jongwoo hesitated a moment before responding. 

“Last week, I walked back home from my internship. For a few days I had some high school kids following me around. I didn’t know who they were but they seemed to be some kids within the neighborhood. They called my mother a whore if I did not hand them my cash” Jongwoo’s hands trembled as he recalled the incident, the pleasure he felt as he saw the bloodied face, writhing in pain from the impact of his punches. 

“I punched them.” he ended it after a few moments. He was met with a sound of approval. “Trust me Jongwoo-ssi, you did nothing wrong.”

Jongwoo sighed. Surprisingly he felt slightly better, of course he would not admit it. A non-believer. Egoistic. Pick your poison. 

“Is there anything else you wish to add, Jongwoo-ssi.”

“Are we done?” 

“I suppose yes”

“I’m never coming here again”

He was met with a chuckle. A deep one this time, it sent chills. It was.. Different. Jongwoo found it hard to explain. “Are you sure? Regardless, the Lord's door is always open for you.”

“Yeah, whatever”

Without waiting Jongwoo stepped out, seeing his mother seated at the bench on the first row. Her eyes, looking at the altar, as the other priest, or Father Kihyuk prayed with another woman at the altar. Her hair was all puffed in wild curls with her wearing some loose blouse that had an absurd amount of florals. In multiple colors that if the dim lightings of the church were to be replaced with brighter ones, it would be hurtful for the eyes. 

His mother looked at Jongwoo with a small smile. Standing up, she walked up to Jongwoo and before she could speak the door from the priest side of the confession opened. The first thing Jongwoo noticed was the shoe, shining even in the dim lighting and the rays of colorful candles that were ignited. Possibly by Father Kihyuk or the other bald man from earlier. 

The priest who spoke to Jongwoo stepped out in all splendor. His long dark robe was contrasting to his pale complexion. His brown eyes landed on Jongwoo, his head tilting to the side slightly and he stepped a little closer, walking up to both his mother and him. His lips were in brilliant red and surprisingly, his hairstyle was similar to Father Kihyuk. Jongwoo wondered if it was a uniform or a mandatory statement for the priests in this chapel to have this haircut. 

But Jongwoo had to admit, he owned this haircut that the long tresses caressed his nape in perfection and the parting on his forehead, that each stroke was elegant. Exquisite for him. He had a deep dark red rosary on his neck, the white collar peeking through his robes were just a sight. An accessory.

Once again anything but holy was the first thing that came to Jonngwoo’s mind that came when he saw the man before him. The only thing that gave him a semblance of holiness was the white collar that graced his neck, the Adam's apple peeking through. 

If it wasn't there, Jongwoo swore, he could easily seduce anyone. His gaze was electrifying, cold, soft with a hint of a smile on his lips. 

“I suppose you must be Jongwoo’s mother.” His calm voice spoke. “My name is Seo Moonjo. Well, do not worry ma’am, I assure you that in the House of the Lord, your son’s issues will be fled away. Perhaps, I would like to meet him another six times.”

Jongwoo shot the man before him with a disapproving glance. Once was enough. He did not want to set foot into this almost empty church, with these people looking anything but holy. He was not a fan of confessions or their marketing strategy for more money. 

He saw his mother fishing through her bag for money and a small laugh escaped from the priest. 

“No, in the Lord's name, I am only doing the job as his servant. So no, no money required”

However, Jongwoo did not notice that Father Kihyuk looked rather surprised at the other priest's rather humble declaration. Even the woman with curly hair looked at the priest. Their gazes landed on the resplendent priest. 

“Thank you, Father Seo. I am in debt to you” His mother spoke, awe gracing her features and a slight look of relief spread across her tired and worried stricken face. 

‘Hmm” his gaze landed on Jongwoo. 

“Till next week Jongwoo-ssi”

Jongwoo let out a soft grunt, a minor acknowledgement. His mind screamed that he would never come back. This place was screaming wrong on each level. He looked at father Moonjo who had an affection filled eyes that was far too soft. Would Jongwoo dare to even imagine something close to loving?

“Eomma let’s go.”

He held his mothers hand, leading her out, his steps rushed as he headed towards the door that remained open. It was dark outside with the colder winds hitting across his skin, contrasting to the heat at sunset earlier. He breathed a sigh of relief and his mother was only looking pleased. 

“Woo-Yah, make sure to come here every week.”

He wouldn’t. 

“Yes Eomma”

Meanwhile, Moonjo’s gaze stayed at the place where Jongwoo had stood, slowly watching the retreating figure. The woman with curly hair approached him, holding a candle, making her look ominous enough. Her face lightened up at the familiar look that Moonjo so often saw. She spoke once they were out of earshot with a sweet, a bittersweet smile gracing her lips. 

Moonjo felt sick at the sight.

“You think he is the one?”

Moonjo hummed in response, slowly tilting his head to meet the woman’s gaze. 

“Yes”

His voice was cold. The warmth he had used with Jongwoo dissipating.

“Is six weeks enough for you?”

“More than enough, he will be my greatest creation yet, Mrs. Eom.”

Moonjo spoke calmly, with a loud laugh from Mrs. Eom that broke through the stillness of the chapel. Blowing out the candle she looked up at him, the smoke, a thin line of it reaching up in waves. 

“He is the final person we need.”

Moonjo turned, looking at Kihyuk who stood by the altar. His rosary clutched ever so tightly that the crucifix was stabbing through his palm, drawing crimson. His eyes only had something of envy, possessiveness that Moonjo recognised easily, With a slow smile spreading through his lips “Now, now, this is necessary” 

The slow smile curled a little more on one side as he tilted his head. 

“Don't be envious like Leviathan, jagi.”

His gaze travelled ever so slowly down on Kihyuk, as his eyes were slowly and almost caressing his features the more it went south, landing on his feet.

“Wear your shoes next time.”

Chapter Text

Remember greed?

Can you guess the relationship between them?

Yes gluttony and greed are twins

Greed is specific in his type and gluttony will eat whatever gets in his way

That's why they both don't get along because they both get in each other's way

- Anonymous

A rather hefty day. Henpecked by Jaeho is a norm that Jongwoo cannot get used to. A person can be as selfish as him. As far as nature is concerned (or it may be not) to Jongwoo the embodiment of selfishness was Shin Jaeho.

As he was typing into the software that Jongwoo had finally, somewhat gotten his head around, he heard an obnoxious voice calling out to him from the glass doors.

"Jongwoo. "

"Yeah-"

"Come here now"

He knew Byeong-min glared at him as he walked away. That slimy prick.

As he stepped into the rather chilly room, he was met with Jaeho, who was wearing a usual dark polo looking shirt. And a signature frown on his face.

"Jongwoo, do you know I had to pay for the boys you hit the other day"

Well, both deserve it. He deserves to spend and they deserve to die.

"How many times have I told you to control your temper, Woo-yah. Ji-eun told me your mother is bringing you to a church" He added the last part with a snicker.

An ugly smile crept to Jaeho's lips as he leaned back in his "boss" chair, It creaked a little upon the shift of his weight and Jaeho rested his hands on the armrest and folded his fingers contemplative.

"What- are you not gonna speak a single word?"

"Well, I'm sorry hyung that you had to pay for my.. mistakes. And yes, I am going to the Church"

Jongwoo hated the fact that he was being interrogated. Those little pricks deserve to die with the one sitting in front of him.

He felt his anger just bubbling beneath the surface but Jongwoo schooled his expression as to not act impulsively and smash Jaeho's head on the table. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath which did not go unnoticed by Jaeho.

"Well, you're not sincere enough but I never expected you to be sincere anyway. You have been this way ever since college, or even military" He said with a rather dramatic sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at his still swollen face.

"Why not go home, Jongwoo. I'm being kind to you today. Be grateful, and don't lose your temper."

Jongwoo just nodded in response as he forced a smile and headed out. He grabbed his bag quickly and hung it over his one shoulder and Byeong-min stared up at him with his sweaty face.

"You kn..know, you sh..shouldn't f..feel so.. l..l..lucky.. t..that you.. k..know the..b..boss - y..you're useless"

He said it in a low whisper, so that the other colleague (the slimy pig has a crush on) wouldn't hear him. But Jongwoo did not bother, but rushed out of the office.

"I'm home, eomma"

Jongwoo said with a sigh as the door shut behind him. He kept his shoes aside and walked in. His brother seemed sick - again. His mother was attending to him, with a little frown due to the lack of medicine.

"Welcome home. Woo-yah. I was wondering, do you have any cash on you" his mother asked in a hesitant tone.

His brother was looking at Jongwoo, while being seated on the couch of their little apartment. There was a napkin over his collar for god knows what reason.

His eyes looked tired. As if he spent the whole night being sick. They were bloodshot as if he had cried so much but Jongwoo’s stomach twisted knowing that he couldn't help them.

He barely had money for his own food.

"Eomma.. I.. I- I'm sorry, I don't have any-"

His words were cut short with his mother standing up and throwing something onto the floor. It was a damp cloth used to wipe his brother's forehead. It landed with a little wet sound, missing the wooden table.

"Woo-yah, I'm sorry for being a burden, but what happened to all of your salary?!"

"Eomma, you do know I'm paying the rent here and I have barely any expenses money. What you earn isn't enough to be here and support him"

"I thought your friend is helping-"

"Leave it be Eomma, I.. I'm tired. Money. Money. Money. That's the only thing everyone wants don't they! I honestly have nothing, dig my pockets if you want"

In a low breath, his mother muttered something along the lines of. "At least if you controlled your anger. You would be like your friend." With so much bitterness.

Jongwoo felt hurt. He felt like he was being drained emotionally and physically from the people who were hell around him. He heard a wheezing cough and looked at his brother.

"H-hyung, I..I'm sorry for being this way"

He said in a coughing tone as he laid back on the couch. His mannerisms were in exhaustion. And Jongwoo's gaze dropped back to his mother, he felt unwelcome.

With that he left the house, with a gentle shut off the front door behind him. The skies were dark as his feet dragged down the windy path. There were distant storms brewing, a signal that it would rain soon enough.

He walked aimlessly. The face was still swollen no doubt, but it had been a week since he went to church. He barely ate and his stomach grumbled. If you were wondering why? Well. His money, which a cleaner could be earning more, was used for the rent, and his mother supports the provision and the brothers medications. Jongwoo handles the bills and sometimes they would be overdue. But it wasn't much.

But like every month, he wouldn't have money but to only almost live on scraps but right now? Right now his wallet was empty. Just another disaster added to his list of unsatisfactory things in life.

He never knew how but he was now on a familiar path. Sooner enough the Church stood before him. He swore he would never come to these creepy people again. A non believer for the Universe's sake. But a man's desperation could lead him to do rash things. Don't they?

Like before, the bells chimed. The waist of it swinging with elegance. Jongwoo wondered how this place seemed to know his presence but he sighed. Thus, after battling with pride and with a gentle push, the doors opened and Jongwoo hesitated at the entrance. He contemplated if a church would even give him food. He remembered that creepy looking priests and one with clearly no shoes for god knows what. 

But he set his foot in, into the dark cathedral. Only the faint glimmer of the evening skies seeped through the stained glasses highlighting the aisle that was dark carpets. Jongwoo wondered if he noticed them previously but he cautiously walked in. Jongwoo did not bother putting on the holy water to signify Christ, but he just moved head on. The church was dark, the flickers of candles that were there before were nonexistent. The faint smell of candles were there but no light was even present. 

Jongwoo stepped down the aisle slowly and the door slammed shut behind him. It left Jongwoo a little frazzled from the loud bang and he quickly snapped his head back to look..

How anyone would wish he didn't. 

When he turned to look again, a disgusting screeching noise filled the air. It was subtle, rough and coughing? More chesty coughs followed by wheezing. Deep breaths. And a sinister laugh. Jongwoo couldn't figure it out and he took a deep breath. Assuming he was hallucinating but clearly he knew he was not. 

At the end of the altar where previously were candles and “holiness” lay a man. He wasn't lying on the floor but in the middle of a pentagram.

His figure was curled. His knees brought to his chest and the design of red around him looked almost like the pits of hell. More tedious noises escaped from the man as Jongwoo stepped closer. Jongwoo knew he was breathing so heavily that he could have a panic attack. He could hear his heart beating in his ear. 

He was horrified. As much as his legs wanted to run, he stepped closer. 

The figure slowly looked at the frazzled and on the verge of a panic attack Jongwoo, his teeth having crimson dripping and meat hanging from his mouth. He was bald and he giggled. He giggled so hard that blood seeped from his mouth and wetted the entire pentagram drawn on the floor causing fire in its wake. 

Jongwoo knew the figure stood up. The fire made him look like a demon. He heard a gurgling sound and a lunge or a sprint. And everything went black.

Jongwoos' head had hit the benches in the church. When Jongwoo opened his eyes again, a familiar looking pair of dark eyes met his own. He grumbled as he sat up. as he was now aware that he was laying on the bench. Soon enough, he realised where he was and he almost screamed and put some distance. 

He heard a faint chuckle, the smooth voice raspy, oddly sexy broke the tensed silence. 

“I found you lying here Jongwoo-ssi” Moonjo spoke in his usual calm tone. 

Jongwoo's eyes shot towards the altar to see if there was any fire or weird shapes on the floor. Or the bald guy who was giggling with meat hanging off of his mouth. But as expected it was wiped clean, spotless. With candles and the cross unblemished stood proudly in the glimmering golden glows. 

Moonjo meanwhile, studied the younger man with a faint expression that could be described as fondness. His dark lips curving into a soft smirk. The priest was dressed in a white shirt apparently and the black robes or the holy collar was nowhere to be seen. It made him look like just a random religious visitor of the church if he did not have the bloody red rosary around his wrist. 

Jongwoo turned to look back at Moonjo.

“I think I saw something”

“May I ask what you saw, Jongwoo-ssi?”

“A man, a bald man.. he was eating something red. This place was dark and-”

Jongwoo felt a hand wrapping around his own. It was oddly far too cold to be humane. Or maybe it's just cold in the chapel. Right? He then met Moonjos unwavering gaze. 

“You didn't see anyone, apparently, one of our patrons had seen you.. hyperventilating and you.. passed out” Moonjo spoke slowly. 

“No! You people are creeps I know what I fucking saw!”

Moonjo leaned closer, locking eyes with the younger man intently.

“Jagi, do I seem like I would lie? But if you want me to believe you, I shall treat you to dinner?”

Unceremoniously Jongwoo's stomach grumbled in compliance although the younger man refused to even admit he had come to the church for food. 

“I promise I won't bite,” Moonjo said with a little laugh as he stood up and let go of Jongwoo's hand. 

Jongwoo found his eyes following Moonjo's hand movements. Begrudgingly he followed and stood up. Rather than walking out of the chapel, Moonjo led him to a corridor closeby to the confession room. It was lit by dim lights and Moonjos shoes made soft taps against the hard floors when Jongwoos footsteps were heavy. 

He was brought to a little pantry. Where the bald man from before was there, washing a mug and bowing before Moonjo and left the room quickly. Jongwoo realised it was the man who he had seen the first time he came to the church - he was lighting up a candle with Father Kihyuk. 

Moonjo lazily sauntered to the cabinets and grabbed a packet of noodles.

“I hope you don't mind something simple?”

Jongwoo didn't bother responding.

“I guess yes”

His movements were casual and soon enough a bowl of instant noodles and soup was in front of Jongwoo. He devoured it although it burned his tongue. Not from the spiciness but heat and Moonjo sat across from him in the square shaped kitchen table. Watching him with fond amusement. 

“Jongwoo-ssi, this is a casual conversation, but what do you think of the sins humans commit”

Jongwoo looked up at the pristine man. His eyebrows arching a little as he slurped the noodle. 

“You do know that I don't believe in all of this.”

“I'm sure you have an opinion on what's right and wrong, considering you're.. indulging yourself.”

Jongwoo scoffed and wiped his lips. 

“I didn't eat, alright. I barely had anything in my stomach these few days. I'm in shambles. I think it would be obvious enough. So don't start with me , Priest” 

Jongwoo spoke out bitterly. The venom spitting out and licking each syllable Jongwoo spoke and Moonjo loved it. HIs eyes almost twinkled if you squint hard enough.

“You have lived luxuriously on the earth and led a life of wanton pleasure; you have fattened your hearts in a day of slaughter.”

Moonjo spoke smoothly.

“You're quoting the bible now?”

“Hmm.. James 5:5”

Moonjo then leaned forward and rested his chin on his palm. With the elbow on the table. His white shirt sleeves were rolled, revealing the smooth expanse of his skin and.. scars?

“It's unfair is it not?”

“You're speaking in riddles,” Jongwoo said bitterly. 

“Apologies, I am only reiterating how unfair life can be. To the Lord, it may seem that you have all the pleasure, you do have a loving parent, a job, a roof and sufficient energy to live” a dark glimmer then crept to Moonjo's eyes but it came in a flash and disappeared. 

“But, as a speaker of the Lord, I understand your hardships and I feel it's unfair of his judgement. Indulge in it. If not for once, but as much as you want. It may be a sin in the eyes of the Lord, but it isn't in mine.”

Jongwoo felt the weird feeling again. That something is just lurking on the surface. He pulled back the bowl of noodles and continued eating again while looking at Moonjo.

A stretch of silence followed, and it was interrupted with a small set of voices and soon enough someone entered the pantry. It was Father Kihyuk and he passed at the entrance, his gaze dropping to Jongwoo and back to Moonjo.

“Ahh, Father, what a surprise. We have a guest for today”

Kihyuk clutched the dark purple rosary beads and headed to the refrigerator, taking out a dark liquid. 

“Father Seo, did you forget the main drink?” Kihyuk spoke as his eyes darted between the both of them. 

Moonjo only chuckled. “How silly, I forgot, would you mind pouring me a glass.”

Kihyuk poured the liquid into a cup and handed it to Moonjo. Moonjo watched Jongwoo while drinking it knowing that the younger man would be curious. 

“Well, if you were not aware, sometimes we even indulge ourselves in wine.”

Definitely not something a priest would be talking about, Jongwoo thought to himself as he pushed the now empty bowl away. 

“Would you li-”

“Father Seo, apparently, there are some pressing issues that require your concern” 

Kihyuk gave Moonjo a look. Which did not go unnoticed by Jongwoo. With a sigh Moonjo stood up. “I hope we meet again next week, Jongwoo-ssi. Think about what I told you..” With that the both of them exited the pantry. Leaving Jongwoo behind. 

Jongwoo stood up as well, his gaze sweeping around the place and his gaze landed onto the cup Moonjo was holding. There was a little fly in it and without wasting any time, Jongwoo rushed out, thankful for the meal, but he needed air to breath and he walked away. Letting out a sigh of relief as the chapel doors shut behind him and he saw the night skies. 

However unknown to him, by the hidden walls of the corridor a figure stood, giggling to himself and watching Jongwoo leave. Flies flew around his face, clutching something in orange, or a gewy thing that made a mess on his fingers as he licked it. 

“Y-You will be ours… s-soon enough”

And Moonjo stood behind the bald man figure.

“You're too much sometimes, Deuk jong”

The man, named Deuk Jong, turned while looking up at Moonjo with a giggle. 

“I-I feel you're too late”

Moonjo tilted his head, stepping closer. 

“Do you take me as a joke? Maybe people can live without one sin.”

Moonjo's eyes almost look extremely devilish. He earned a giggle again before the bald man walked into the dark parts of the chapel with flies following after him and Moonjo watched the retreating figure.

He felt another presence and he knew it was Kihyuk. 

“And you, never cut me off.. again. Thankfully your daftness had reduced and you put shoes on.” Moonjo spoke bitterly, he knew Kihyuk was seething internally. He could feel it.

But Moonjo knew they went too far. He hated if things never went his way, and especially if someone meddles with something that is his. 

In short. Yoon Jongwoo, was Seo Moonjo's prey. Not even the Universe can stop that. Especially not the embodiment of the seven deadly sins.