02: Baptism In His Sin.

“Every saint has a past, and he is here to awaken mine in the most sinful way.”

Baron’s POV

“Ezreal?”

My heart thundered in my chest, my pulse spiking up.

Could it really be him?

I was met with deafening silence, unconsciously holding my breath as I waited. But minutes passed, and I still heard nothing.

My fingers trembled as I reached for the lattice, my hands hovering over the handle that would reveal him. It was against the church’s protocol, but…

With a sharp breath, I slid it open, my chest tight.

But alas, the booth opposite me was empty, and the only thing that remained was the lingering scent of lavender and mint, the smell of a man’s perfume.

A familiar scent…

He was here….he was really here…

I sprang to my feet, my body moving without thinking. I rushed out of the confessional, stumbling into the church aisle with panic coursing through me.

“Ezreal!” I shouted, his name sounding foreign on my tongue.

I burst through the heavy doors, my chest heaving as the sun blinded me for a second. Then, my vision cleared just in time for me to catch a glimpse of a black car pulling away from the curb and into the road.

Its windows were tinted, hiding whoever was inside. My fists clenched at my sides as I watched it till it disappeared along a curve, leaving a cloud of dust in its trail.

“Ezreal…” I whispered, a thousand and one questions running through my mind.

It could be no one else but him.

That confession…..it couldn’t belong to anyone else but him…

Ezreal was back, and I had rushed outside like I dared to face him.

The truth weighed heavily on my shoulders, and I had no choice but to accept the reality I had dreaded ever since that fateful day. Like a ghost conjured from guilt and longing.

*****

The following days passed in a blur, yet I couldn’t forget.

No matter how many candles I lit, no matter how often I read the scriptures, every time I knelt at the altar, every time I closed my eyes to pray….

All I saw was blood.

Ryan’s blood.

On my hands, staining my soul.

Then I saw him. Ezreal.

I saw his eyes the moment he was sentenced, the shock and pain of a betrayal he didn’t deserve.

Even now, in the still quiet of the church before Sunday mass, I stood before the cross, looking up at it with a heavy heart. Then I knelt, hoping my prayers would drown out my chaotic thoughts, but they could never erase my past.

I knew that all too well.

I was now a priest, taking over from my father, teaching and preaching the words of God. But I was nothing more than a murderer hiding behind a rosary.

Soon enough, the pews filled and the choir sang, leaving me with no choice but to bury it all beneath the sleek cotton of my robes and step to the pulpit.

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” I began, keeping my tone steady despite the quake in my heart. “My brethren, today’s word is about forgiveness, the hardest treasure we can give, yet the purest reflection of Christ’s love.”

I preached just as my father had taught me, but I didn’t believe in my own words. Each verse I read from the scripture stung like poison on my tongue, for I was the very hypocrite described in the passage.

After the sermon came to a close, I spread my arms wide, beckoning to the crowd. “If anyone would like to dedicate their life to the Lord, please step forward. Today we offer baptism to wash off sins and begin anew.”

No one moved at first. The silence was deafening yet expected, especially when most of the members had already been baptized. But then—

One man stood.

My eyes rounded, breath catching in my throat.

Ezreal.

I recognized him in an instant, even with the years that had passed and aged his features, he carried a presence that was undeniably his.

He walked the aisle with his hand tucked in his coat, dressed head to toe in crisp black. Gone was the sixteen-year-old boy who nervously pressed his lips against mine. Now I faced a man who held more storms in his eyes than a hundred seas.

His coat fit perfectly on his broad shoulders, his black shirt was slightly unbuttoned, giving a glimpse of his bronze-tanned skin. He was taller, towering like a shadow that swallowed the space whole. His brown hair, once wild and sun-kissed, now fell in darker waves that framed his sharp jaw and brushed his shoulders, pulled back in a sleek half-ponytail.

This was it. He was finally in front of me, a face I never thought I would see again.

My chest burned with guilt and something more, something that only resurfaced with his appearance, something I desperately wanted to reject.

But I couldn’t let my mask crack in front of my congregation, so I forced a smile, my grip on my bible tightening unconsciously.

“Brother,” I started, my voice strained. “Please stay back after the closing prayer. We will make the necessary preparations.”

His smile came slowly, amusement glinting in his green eyes. “Of course, Father.” He answered, dragging out the last word with evident mockery.

Soon the service came to an end, but my focus faltered. I spoke the final prayers like I was reading from a carefully written script, my gaze drifting to Ezreal who sat at the back. A tall man in a dark suit stood beside him, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp.

When the final amen chorused, they stayed, waiting till the pews grew empty.

Now it was just us.

I swallowed hard as Ezreal stepped closer, his head tilted to the side in silent observation, his gaze skimming me with a smirk plastered on his lips.

“Long time no see Baron.” He greeted, rocking on the heels of his boots. “I’m curious, about the whole baptism thing,” he waved, “Does God wash away betrayal as easily as He does other sins?”

His words seared through me like arrows, mercilessly tearing old wounds open.

I couldn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t summon the courage to answer.

What could I possibly say?

I had a million questions at the tip of my tongue, but none would see the light of day.

Ezreal scoffed at my silence, turning to whisper something into his bodyguard’s or assistant’s ear. The tall man glanced at me before stepping back, giving us privacy.

“Well, lead the way.” Ezreal mused.

I only nodded, ushering him to the lake behind the church. We walked in silence till the lake came into view, its surface shimmering beneath the late sun.

I went straight to work, preparing the rites and setting out the ceremonial garments. Ezreal watched me with his arms crossed, one brow arched.

When I was done, I stepped into the water, my robe dragging against the subtle tide.

“You…can come in,” I said, my voice small.

Ezreal held my gaze, and I could only help but wonder what could be going through his mind. His gaze flickered to the water, then without a word, he started to strip.

My breath caught.

“That isn’t nece—”

“These are expensive,” he cut me off, tugging off his coat in one smooth motion. “I would hate to get them wet.”

I bit my tongue, unable to argue with him. Ezreal took his time, and the moment his coat hit the grass, his fingers reached to unbutton his shirt.

I cleared my throat, forcing my gaze to the sky, to the lake, anywhere but him. Yet my body betrayed me, and I made the mistake of glancing his way, now I couldn’t look away.

His chest spread out like pages of a heavy book, the years molding him into something unholy. My gaze lingered too long on his chiseled abs, the flex of his muscles as he shrugged off the shirt, and the old scar that slashed across his ribcage.

He unfastened his belt next, then he peeled off his trousers. My eyes trailed dangerously low, following the sharp cut of his V line. But I stopped myself before it could wander further, raising my gaze.

For a split second, our eyes met.

My heart skipped a beat.

Ezreal had caught me staring. Caught me shamefully.

He chuckled dryly as he stepped into the water, shaking his head. “Careful Father…your gaze seems far too intense. Baptism isn’t meant to be tempting is it?”

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and I squeezed my eyes shut, muttering a prayer, but it did nothing to soothe my nerves.

Again, I chose to say nothing.

Ezreal waded deeper into the water, and I followed, my robes clinging to my legs. I hesitated before reaching for his shoulders, letting out a shaky breath as skin touched his.

Bracing myself, I recited the words of the rites with a trembling voice.

“Do you confess your sins and accept Christ as your savior?”

Ezreal’s gaze never wavered, his expression unreadable. “I do.”

A beat of silence passed, then I pushed him back, dipping his body beneath the surface. At that moment, I had a wishful thought, hoping that the water would somehow wash away the darkness between us.

But when I pulled him up, his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. Before I could comprehend what was happening, Ezreal yanked me forward with staggering strength. My balance broke, and I was swallowed by the lake, dragging me under with him.

I thrashed under his hold, my lungs burning from the lack of oxygen. Panic clawed at my throat, and as quickly as it began, I broke through the surface, but only because Ezreal hauled me toward the shallows like a captive.

I collapsed on the grass, erupting into a fit of coughs. Then just as I caught my breath, he pinned me down, his weight crushing me into the earth.

“Your silence annoys me more than I thought an apology would…” he rasped, his eyes burning with resentment. This time, there was no hint of sarcasm in his tone, just hate—dripping with vicious venom.

“Ezreal…” I croaked, my hands shoving at his chest, but his grip was unyielding.

“Say something. What do you feel when you look at me?” He lowered his voice dangerously, his intense gaze boring holes into the skull.

We struggled, our breaths ragged with more than exhaustion. His face was inches away from mine, too close for me to think straight.

“This..this is wrong…” I managed to say.

“You can play priest for as long as you like,” he spat, ignoring my protests, “but you will never find salvation.”

His words struck like a curse, but that wasn’t the reason my chest heaved, not the reason goosebumps littered my skin, and definitely not the reason I felt hot despite the chilling dip from the lake.

Ezreal’s eyes widened momentarily, noticing.

I winced as his hand shifted, pressing against the stiff betrayal straining against my soaked robes.

He stilled for only a second, then a wicked grin overtook his features.

My body trembled as he stroked me, his touch torturous yet possessive, as if claiming what I had struggled to keep hidden.

Shame hit me like a tidal wave, mixing with guilty pleasure.

“Well, well, well,” Ezreal drawled, his voice taunting, “Look who’s getting excited,”

“Stop,” I gasped, squeezing my eyes shut as the humiliation dug deep. “Please….”

Ezreal laughed, the sound ringing like a cruel reminder. I flinched as his other hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing hard enough to make me wheeze.

He leaned forward, his breath hot as his lips ghosted over the shell of my ear.

“I will taint you so bad,” he whispered, his hand tightening against my crotch. “So bad you won’t have the courage to stand on the altar you abandoned me for.”