Reverence Sentences Novels & Stories

How could I make it happen again? “That's not true. You don't even know him," Haven said defensively. “I know he probably touches himself to your pictures." Haven scoffed in disgust. There it was. Man, she's so hot. “Do you have to use such vulgar terms?" She asked. “I think of them as sentence enhancers,” I laughed. “They're disgusting and totally inappropriate," Haven said dismissively. “Also, you're wrong about Gabe." I laughed again, my eyes still on her thighs. "If you say so."

She felt the bond within her stirring, responding to Kael’s presence like fire igniting oil. “Kael,” Reven spoke, his tone steady yet menacing. “You should have remained buried with your sins.” Kael laughed, a deep, bitter sound filled with too much anguish. “And miss the reunion? You truly hurt me, brother.” He tilted his head, glancing at Selene. “Or should I refer to her as your Luna? Tell me, Reven, does she still pray to the goddess who deserted her? Or have you both realized that love is simply another deception?”

Sunbathing in my imagination. Temptation, get behind me! Please! Please, get behind me! Okay, wait. I closed my eyes again, whispering the familiar words, clinging to them like a lifeline. Making the sign of the cross, tracing the familiar pattern against my chest. Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.

_*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> He watched him touch Eve. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> He watched the reverence of it, the specific quality of hands that were not worshipping, were not careful in the way that reverence was careful, were not maintaining the managed devotion of an appropriate love. These were hands that trembled. That reached because they could not not reach. That touched with the full force of a wanting that had been building for ten thousand years and was finally, finally meeting its object in the physical world without barriers.

Not touching, but near enough that the air between us hums. “According to your great compassion blot out my transgressions…” I falter on the word transgressions. He doesn’t speak, but I feel his breath stir the air near my ear. “Wash away all my iniquity,” I continue, quieter now, “and cleanse me from my sin.” The words feel heavier when spoken in this empty chapel, with him listening. My pulse throbs in my throat. He interrupts gently. “Slower.” I swallow. Obey.

“Do you ever feel like we’re standing in front of a word we’re both avoiding?” My breath stills. “Yes,” I say softly. “All the time.” He exhales, like he’s been holding that question longer than I realized. “I don’t think we’re afraid of it,” he continues. “I think we’re afraid of what happens after it’s said.” “That it might change how carefully we’re holding this,” I add. “Exactly.” There it is. Not resistance—reverence. The thing we haven’t named yet isn’t fragile. But we’re treating it as sacred.

Chloe’s POV “Today,” I said softly, my voice trembling but steady enough, “we give him back to God.” The church was full. Not the noisy kind of full, no. This was the reverent kind, the kind where silence carried weight, where every breath felt intentional. White and cream drapes flowed from the high ceilings, candles flickered gently, it was so surreal, and sunlight filtered through stained glass windows, painting soft colors on my son’s tiny face. My son.

I felt humiliated and just wanted to get out of that place, to which I didn't belong. I stopped in front of the lathe, bowed with perfection and grace, as I had been trained to do since I was born. "I salute His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Donovan Arventia. May blessings and Eonora fall upon his imperial majesty," I said, managing to keep my voice loud and firm.

The ceremony was simple, but the solemnity of the moment felt profound. "Beloved gathered here," the priestess began, her voice soft yet resonating through the field, "we stand in solemn remembrance of a brave soul who has answered the call of the eternal. Today, we honor not just a soldier, but a guardian of our realm—a heart that beat with courage and devotion. In life, he fought for justice and light, facing darkness with unwavering strength. His sacrifice echoes through our lives, a reminder of the price we pay for peace.

Not touching, but near enough that the air between us hums. “According to your great compassion blot out my transgressions…” I falter on the word transgressions. He doesn’t speak, but I feel his breath stir the air near my ear. “Wash away all my iniquity,” I continue, quieter now, “and cleanse me from my sin.” The words feel heavier when spoken in this empty chapel, with him listening. My pulse throbs in my throat. He interrupts gently. “Slower.” I swallow. Obey.