priest!joost x nun!reader secret relationship🫣
it starts quietly, almost innocently. late-night conversations in the church garden, shared chores, laughter that lingers longer than it should. neither of you plan for it to become something more.
joost is terribly guilty about it at first. he’ll avoid looking at you during prayer, gripping his rosary too tightly, whispering apologies under his breath to a god he hopes will forgive him.
secret meetings in the library or storerooms after lights out. he reads to you sometimes — psalms, poetry hidden between old prayer books, or things he’s written himself.
he kisses you like he’s terrified of being caught. quick, sharp, desperate. sometimes he can’t stop himself from pulling you into a shadowed alcove when the hallway is empty.
you tease him for blushing so easily. he always mutters, “sister, this isn’t funny,” but the way he leans into your shoulder betrays him.
the fear of being discovered is constant. a creak on the stairwell makes him pull away from you immediately. you both perfect the art of looking normal — even when your hearts are pounding.
when you pass each other in public, you both pretend nothing is out of the ordinary, though his eyes always find yours across the chapel.
he’s protective in subtle ways: making sure you’re assigned lighter duties when you’re tired, slipping you a candle to keep in your room, writing little notes and slipping them over to you like a highschool boy with his crush.
you both use prayer as an excuse to be together longer. kneeling side by side, fingers interlaced behind the pew where no one can see.
joost has the worst poker face when it comes to you. the other clergy joke about how he lights up whenever you speak, though they think it’s just admiration between colleagues. only you notice the way his hand brushes yours a little too often, or the way his eyes drop to your lips mid-sentence.
you meet in the garden sometimes under the guise of tending to the plants. to anyone watching, it’s just a priest and a nun caring for roses. in truth, his fingers are ghosting over your wrist every chance he gets.