she rubs her feet on the carpet of the entrance, enters into the sacred silence of the compound. she turns to dip her fingers into the font of holy water, makes the sign of the cross and walks down the aisle, genuflects and kneels to pray. she hears the soft humming of the choir in the background, practising hymns before the start of mass and she can't concentrate, the humming mixing with the words in her head. she fails to tell god what she wishes to tell him.

she goes through the motion, stands from her seat and watches the priest enter and start the celebration of mass. she sits, stands, kneels as required, responses accordingly and eats the eucharistic host as she does weekly. she doesn't realize it, or maybe she does, but her mind is in a deep haze, she watches everything pass by her, in slow motion but never really processing it. she sees all in greyscale but nothing is ever fully comprehended whenever she steps in here.

they tell her it is divine grace. that his power is always incomprehensible. 

but she wonders how the laws she learnt in church are so fixed and ordered, so deemed comprehensible and anything that lies outside these boundaries are incomprehensible and unforgivable. she learns them, she comprehends them, is taught not to break them or be condemned.

seungwan wonders who decides what is comprehensible or not, forgivable or not, if god isn't really ever here on earth. (they tell her that it is faith that pulls them through, but she knows faith isn't what tells them to decide for themselves what is wrong or not)

---

on weekdays she is miles away from the blindingly pure white compound and she lies in bed, small and cramped, feels a small but firm back against her chest. her eyes trail downwards as the wind whistles lowly through the small gap of her window, reflections of headlights outside oscillate around her room dimly and she makes out the silhouette of the small frame in front of her, curved into a tiny ball, fitting against the curve seungwan has created so the other can comfortably rest against her as she drifts into peaceful slumber.

she thinks she can let her lids fall slowly and let her breaths turn steady as her body recuperates as the night sky blankets them. but she only can shut her lids tight and pray "god please forgive me", because she turns joohyun over gently and plants a chaste kiss on her lips. she traces lightly with the back of her fingers joohyun's defined cheekbones down to her jawline, the sides of her neck, her collarbones. joohyun is tickled, her smile graces her lips as her eyes slowly fit open, tilts her head up to kiss seungwan. deeper, deeper, deeper. joohyun's power over her is incomprehensible, too, she realizes, and feels herself lose strength in her limbs as joohyun deftly takes her shirt off and slides her boy shorts down. in a swift motion joohyun flips her over and caresses her over and over again. she feels joohyun snuggle into the edge of her neck and whisper into her ears,

"i love you, wan-ah'.

she wakes up and finds herself in an intertwining of limbs, the smell of heat and sleep surrounding her, her arm lazily over the waist of joohyun but feels the tight grip of joohyun's hand on her arm. she nestles herself into joohyun's hair, still smelling like the strawberry shampoo she showered with the night before. she envisions joohyun and her a complete mess on their bed now, but the mess is complete, like a tangled knot –  in all its disarray it is still an unbroken and whole line. the rays of the sun radiates softly, welcomes them into the morning filled with new beginnings and opportunities for seungwan to make new memories with joohyun.

in the hustle and bustle of getting ready for a new day, joohyun and seungwan go about a supposedly mundane routine. seungwan makes breakfast and joohyun makes the bed, they both stand in front of the mirror and brush their teeth, throw silly looks with their mouths full of colgate foam then sprinkle a little water at each other. seungwan could be wrong, but she thinks joohyun's sprinkle of water on her feels holier.

they sit across each other at the dining table, eat their usual toast and scrambled eggs, with piping hot coffee that seungwan knows joohyun loves with a cube of sugar and a quarter of the cup filled with carnation milk. any less than that and she knows joohyun will enter the boisterious life outside their home with a frown. so she tries everyday to be good enough for joohyun, and she starts by perfecting her cup of coffee.

---

the church believes we are never perfect, we are always tainted by original sin and so we should continuously turn to god with repentence for reconciliation. she waits outside, twiddles her fingers in extreme anxiety (they will tell her it is guilt) and tries to reflect accordingly. the examination of conscience asks if she's engaged in any 'unnatural acts of ual pleasure' and she tries hard to not deem what she has with joohyun as that (they whisper in her ears, it is, it is). she imagines joohyun in her head, telling seungwan how much she loves her, how much seungwan makes her happy and smiles in all her glee as they embrace and seungwan knows she hasn't felt any happier. but years and years of being indoctrinated with these values cannot eradicate the growing guilt that festers in her heart like a disease. it doesn't always feel this way, not when she's underneath the sheets being completed by joohyun, but she cannot escape it the minute she enters this place and she really wishes she could know what is really right (she has come to learn no one can ever be truly right, and that shakes her quite a bit). she steps into the confessional box, makes the sign of the cross and tells the priest to bless her for her sins.

she thinks of the love between god and her, love between joohyun and her and while god's love is all encompassing and omnipresent and powerful in all its godly spiritual ways, love is love and she is not undermining god in any way, but joohyun has never made her feel any less complete than any man to a woman (or woman to a man, for feminists out there). so she wonders why whoever came up with the current law dictated as such. she kneels in heavy sorrow, doesn't understand, is unable to understand why she still has to obey whoever interpreted god's word in this way. love manifests in different ways but there is no right or wrong love, she thinks, and yet still feels the crushing weight of the church's word (not god's, because she believes deep down god is always always always accepting and forgiving, despite circumstances) upon her.

"i'm sorry, father, for being in love with a girl."

people usually leave the confessional box with a light heart, for they have received the healing grace of god because they have given in to the word of the church and asked for forgiveness what the latter deemed as wrong. sengwan steps out of the church, stares numbly at her surroundings and feels her heart grow heavier. she thinks she will never ever reconcile her dilemma, because she feels her heart tugging strongly back to apartment where her other half is residing in. she trudges back, slowly but surely.

she wonders if there is really anything to be sorry for.

---

a/n: i'm actually a christian, so pls dont bash me for slamming this religion. i just wanted to deal with this issue i feel this religion kind of evades and i have inkling that there are quite a number of people out there who are very confused with how they feel about this. either way, i believe it is never wrong to be in love and i really hope they find some sort of closure for themselves one day. and that the community will not condemn them nor alienate them for the things these people have no power over (we don't choose the kind of people we want to love). thanks for reading this guys you are awesome <3