✝ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕊𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟: 𝔾𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔸𝕨𝕒𝕪 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕄𝕦𝕣𝕕𝕖𝕣 ✝

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Trigger Warning for Violence, Strong Language and Death

 ✝Trigger Warning for Violence, Strong Language and Death ✝

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--- *** ---
--- A Quarter an Hour or So ---

Within the progressing nocturnal episode at a snail's pace, the former devotional woman of the cloth delightfully accepted Father Malachi's offer to stay in the church to be hydrated and well-feed if her needs were a far cry from sated. Even though the younger lady wasn't peckish at all, nevertheless, the munificent offer of a glass of water couldn't be objected from Jude. The starkly satisfying and hedonistic hydration of her organs and body in general.

"Are you sure you want to leave on your own, Jude?" The welcoming, warmly soothing northern lilt of the revered clergyman tingled angelic anthems into the blonde's petite, sensitive ears as their gazes speared one another and honed up their sharpness abruptly. Even though Father Malachi didn't have any intentions of persuading Jude to flee the chapel, nevertheless, her headstrongly categorical decision to leave on her own was quite controversial as well.

Even if he wasn't very fond of the Bostonian, he didn't wish her the worst at all. His sacred benevolence thickly marvelous bled and coursed through his veins and velvety voice, radiantly scintillating glimmering like a Christmas tree's decoration.

"I am afraid something leery may happen to-" The series of dancing steamers, scarcely predictable to be formulated, although Father Malachi's well-schooled nature, were sailing out of his wet, strawberry-coloured tongue until Judy cut him off curtly, nonchalance registered in her reassuringly optimistic gesture with a hand, waving past his vision whilst seating on the exquisitely polished chairs inside the senior clergyman's dorm.

The hitching breaths, choiring monotonously frequent slumbered inside the dorm of the chapel as the dimly golden nightstand lamp partly bestowed the sufficiently expansive room with a generous layer of angelic, divine light.

Even when the categorical, timid dithering dilemma of the former sleazy nightclub singer was whirling and twirling into her hurricane of thoughts vehemently stormy. It didn't prevent her from reconsidering and fathoming the relentless consequences of lurking in the lethally nocturnal mantle of the darkness outside, obscuring her clear view of examining in adequate scrutiny the surroundings bracing her.

"Don't worry about me, Father! I will be alright." The soothingly nonchalant timbre, spotlighting the blonde's utterance with her pure optimism, cusping with the absolute realism flashed Father Malachi's rough grain of concern, sketching his heavy wrinkles and facial attributes abruptly. A vaguely sympathetic, flamboyant smile elaborated to be tugged at the corners of her naturally nude pink, plump lips.

"Be careful, Jude!" Shortly before the former pious nun fled the dorm room along with the chapel, she yanked the senior clergyman's stiff, masculinely veiny hand into her elvish, creamily marbled and smacked a tenderly reassuring kiss on his frail knuckles for farewell. "As soon as I see Timothy, I will make sure to process with the exorcism."

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