Page 19 of Sins and Virtue

If only you were by my side, then the world would feel less dark.

My eyes closed, a tear escaping and running down my cheek. Hoping that if I went to sleep, I would find him there. If I couldn’t be with him, see him when I wanted, or touch him when I needed, then maybe he would meet me in my dreams.

If only God could grant me that wish.

If only God could help Konstantin escape.

If only God could forgive our sins.

God, help us all.

Chapter 3

Konstantin

Manipulating and blackmailing a nun certainly wasn’t in my grand scheme of things, but nevertheless, it had been proven beneficial in my cause.

Especially with the nun in question.

“Blair,” Her name left my mouth like a sweet sacred melody.

Watching her from a distance as she stopped by the garden. I lingered in the shadows of the room by the windowsills so no one would see me, but I could plan and track every single one of their movements. I cleaned my gun with a cloth as I stood with my wet slicked-back hair from taking a shower. Tracking what they did, when they did it, and why?

It was a basic necessity to survive.

Amongst the scum of the world and the less advanced-minded individuals.

The nature of man was backstabbing, so no one was too safe.

Conspiring with an ally like her was no different. However, you could say she wasn’t a copy like the others. Actually, the opposite, if I were honest.

Today was some type of routine activity where the nuns did an assortment of activities with young children. Blair was in the rosebush garden, sitting on the ledge of a water fountain that had a statue of a cherub behind her, reading an illustrated kid version of the Bible to the children who lay on the ground in front of her.

They attentively listened with round, curious eyes and open mouths as she asked them questions, and they shot their little arms up to answer.

The beady sun cast down on them, especially Blair, who appeared like she had a round halo surrounding the crown of her head as the wind brushed back the few visible strands of her hair and she smiled tenderly. Rendering her the most captivating thing out there.

If she were a mother, she would have been the best.

Even in her conservative attire of the ankle-length black dress, a thick white veil, and a long-sleeved shirt, her body was cut and contrasted against its modesty.

Her body was a sinner’s dream, one that begged to be pressed against, devoured, and worshipped.

Plastered in aPlayboymagazine.

Her waist-long messy russet brown hair complemented her unique siren hazel eyes, pulling me like a sailor to the lost sea. Only causing me to drown and stay forever in her trance.

Everything about her was temptation.

Nothing holy or saintly.

She would drive sinners straight to hell with one look and with one word to their knees, because she was worthy of reverence just like a queen.

But given her newfound occupation, the only reverence she had was for God.

Personally, I had nothing against religion; that was between God and each person who chose what and whom to believe. There were people of all kinds— true believers, hypocrites, fanatics, and ones like myself who, when all else was gone, came back to where we felt listened to. Not exactly all-encompassing, not even fully practicing the faith, but I knew somewhere out there in the string of cosmos, there was a God existing, watching over, and listening. We just had to come looking for him.

In my life I had seen all types of “believers,” but Blair was one I couldn’t categorize.