Page 95 of Beneath His Robes

Elias, unfazed by Travis’s lack of tact, stepped forward with a polite smile.

“I’m Elias. Nice to meet you.” he extended his hand in greeting.

Travis eyed Elias’s hand, then cracked a grin, shaking it firmly.

“Travis,” he said with a wink. “Nice to meet you, Father. You know, I wasn’t expecting to get blessed today, but I’m not complaining.”

Elias gave a small chuckle, the tension easing between them.

“It’s just Elias,” he said, clearly trying to keep things light. “And no blessings required, I promise.”

I gestured to the cluttered space behind us. “Anyway, this is my place. Apologies in advance for the mess. Trav was supposed to keep it cleaned up while I was away.”

Travis shrugged at my pointed look toward him.

The apartment wasn’t much to look at—small, cluttered, with mismatched furniture and a kitchen that had seen better days—but it was home. The couch was worn, the coffee table covered in papers and old books, and the air had a mix of stale takeout and coffee. It wasn’t beautiful, but it was lived in and had everything I needed.

I continued the tour to the adjoining kitchen and stopped when I saw Frupe–my spider plant and the only equivalent to a fucking pet I had ever owned, was in a disheveled state of death.

“Dude! You killed my plant?”

Travis ignored me, and Elias cleared his throat while I mourned that damn green savage.

“I’ll…take the couch, then,” Elias said, glancing at me with an almost nervous energy.

Travis let out a short laugh and plopped down on the armchair. “You can sit wherever you want, Father. It’s not like he got a guest room.”

I shot him a glare, trying to ignore the way Travis’s sarcasm hung in the air.

“I’m going to make something to eat, Travis. You owe me another fucking pet, asshole,” I muttered, heading toward the kitchen.

Travis chortled and shook his head, seemingly finding immense humor in the death of my dearest of loyal companions.

“Ha. That damn thing ain’t no pet. I’ll get you a junkyard dog you can name some dumbass weird name.”

Elias followed me to the kitchen, his footsteps soft against the worn wooden floor. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love something light,” he said quietly, a hint of hesitation in his voice. “I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing,” I reassured him, grabbing some pasta from the cabinet. “I’ll make us something. It’s not fancy, but it’ll be edible…maybe.”

I heard Travis’s voice from the living room. “I’m just saying you should’ve brought more holy water with you,” he called. “This place could use a bit of…cleansing.”

“Not now, Travis,” I snapped, but I couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at my lips.

Elias sat down at the kitchen table, the quiet hum of the apartment surrounding us. It felt…different, having him here. Like I was seeing my world through new eyes, and for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like a mess I was stuck in.

Maybe, just maybe, things were starting to come together.

I could hear Travis’s voice drifting from the living room, filled with his usual casual irreverence. I was stirring the pasta on the stove, trying to ignore the mess in my kitchen as I worked to get something fucking decent together for dinner.

Elias had settled into one of the mismatched chairs, his posture stiff but patient, like he was waiting for the world to come at him one question at a time.

The sound of Travis shuffling closer made me groan inwardly, but I couldn’t exactly stop him. Elias had been trying to make himself at home, and Travis wasn’t about to make that easy.

“So, Father…” Travis began, his voice loud enough that I could hear the smugness in it. “What’s the deal? What made you decide to give up the good life to, you know, pray for the masses and whatnot?”

He sounded genuinely curious but also like he was trying to provoke. It was his way of testing people.

I glanced over at Elias, catching the slight tension in his jaw. His face was calm, but his eyes—those eyes that always seemed to see through everything—gave away a little bit of unease. But he wasn’t going to back down.

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