The Book of Lucia, Chapter XVI - Beware of False Prophets

[Liesmith]

Tris’ first and perhaps understandable reaction to that statement was a slow blink. A non-verbal ‘huh’, if you like, as she took in the idea that anyone might find Sister Chastity unremarkable.

It wasn’t even just the bloody obvious visual things either. There was that accent for one thing, something soft and Central European that Tris was cautiously pegging as ‘German’ even if she wouldn’t have bet real money on it. And, though the young redhead couldn’t quite put her finger on what, there was something about the way the blonde carried herself that set her apart from the other cosplay nun-wannabees haunting the neighbourhood.

Not to mention minor details like, oh she didn’t know, why Tris had picked up a creepy nun-stalker. Or why the plain and simple invitation was somehow more unnerving than if Chastity had made it with a creepy ‘step into my parlour’ horror villain grin.

Regardless, as the conversation moved on, Tris’ hands stilled at the other woman’s hips, casually resting there in a gesture that’d have been entirely natural where the two a couple. Only for Tris to pull away, her hip and thigh brushing against the blonde’s as she went in a gesture that lasted a heartbeat too long for anyone to mistake it for chance.

Even if she’d thought she’d known where this conversation was going, Chastity kept on surprising her. Which made her interesting, which kept Tris from doing what she knew was the smart thing and making a break for it.

Because she’d never been able to resist a puzzle.

“Uh-huh,” Tris’ glance was as openly scathing as her tone, “Is this where you tell me that God has a plan for us, Sister? Cause the only thing drawing me here was the coffee.”

She reclaimed her cup from the low wall she’d put it on, took a long and very pointed sip while regarding the faux-nun with arched brows.

It was damn good coffee too. Sakura cream latte. Who knew?

[BlackAkuma]

Some might have been unnerved to be touched by a woman they barely knew. Even one as fetching as Beatrice.

Sister Chastity was many things, but never ‘some’.

As those thin, nimble fingers explored her body, she welcomed them warmly, even moved her body to ensure the greatest access. It was necessarily a sensual touch, meant for exploration rather than stimulation, but it served the former all the same. She kept her smile warm and friendly, gave nothing away with her face, but the subtle hints of her body told the story. She would have let the redhead touch whatever she wished, for as long as she wanted, without a single complaint.

When she finally moved away, Sister Chastity’s body moved with her, as if they’d been connected by magnetism for a moment. She stepped and retook her stance, as Beatrice kept the banter light and challenging.

”Maybe He does. Maybe He doesn’t.” Sister Chastity took a few steps to the side and kept her gaze locked on Beatrice’s body. Appraising? Analyzing? Assessing? Admiring?

”You came for the coffee. But you might not have. You might have had a taste for something different. You might have overslept. You might have found yourself delayed by a car crash, a flat tire, a sudden rain. Any number of changes, and we would not be here, and we would not be speaking, and I would not have the pleasure of such lovely company.” She had a laugh that was almost a chirp.

”I don’t proclaim to know the Lord’s will. That’s the claim of fools and Pharisees. But I don’t believe in dithering when an opportunity is presented, either. Some doors never close once their opened.”