Author: Girl Who Writes
Word Count: 135
Prompt: #9; Choir
Notes: Written for February RT Ficathon. One of my favourite pieces.
Summary: Blood is thicker than water, and it follows her everywhere.
She sits in the back of the Cathedral, listening to the singing. It smells musty and of honeycomb polish. The stained glass reflects colours onto the marble floor, but she looks away; the red light reminds her of blood, and she's seen too much of that lately.
He walks into the Cathedral, still in his worn robes, ignoring the stares from nosey parishioners as he slips into the pew next to her, taking her gloved hand in both of his. She bites her lip and nods, without him ever asking the question.
They'll sit together in the cool for as long as she needs to collect herself, to push away the memories of more bodies, more blood and her own aunt's name to the crime. Blood is thicker than water, and it follows her everywhere.