Thread: A Discussion of Theology (SnowGlassRoses)

A soft slumping sound of fabric falling to the wooden floor, as amidst the mild panic swelling beneath her bosom upon seeing her fathers coat, Yvettes slender fingers loosened its grip upon her cloak and sent it dropping to the floor at her feet. Her lips quivered slightly, drawing those soft petals inward in contemplation, as her hand still hung in the air, reaching out to that hook with nothing but air trapped between her fingersHe was home... For how long ? Yvettes sweet heart was fluttering rapidly, fueled by guilt that urged her to confess...The crucifixes stared down at her imposingly with such lank accusing eyes. So easily swayed, was a girl so close to her father, when thoughts of disappointing him crossed her mind.. Well, perhaps he had just arrived homePerhaps he had not noticed that she was gone! Her frantic heart calmed slightly at the thought. If he did not ask, she need not tell. Not telling was not the same as lying after allYvette could never tell a lie to her Papa. Despite her intellect that matched his own, and her compelling charisma, she could never permit a lie to pass her lips in the presence of her Papa Leaning down, she gathered her cloak up quickly in her arms. Before hanging it in its proper place, she swiped at the dirt lacing the skirts of her lovely gown. Yvette turned to face the hall mirror, placing several pins from her hair down upon the table between a vase of lilies and a sculpture of the Virgin Mother. She placed one between her lips as she ran her fingers through her pretty curls, glancing aside for a moment towards the den..The door was slightly ajar, and Yvette well-near swallowed that hair pin...Knowing that he was in there,waiting for her. He knew He always knew. Loosely, she pined up a few curls back into place, tightening her ribbon so that her hair was swept up in a lovely up-do. Several ringlets left down framing her face, knowing her Papa enjoyed twirling her hair between his fingertipsJust like silk, he would always smile to herThe hair of an angel.. An angel who pinched at her cheeks in the mirror, to give herself a more radiant blush, succumbing to vanities in an attempt to sway her way back into grace. Oh how the devil tugged at her heartstrings at times, the same as with all young ladies perhaps, eager to please a lover loved oneThough, essentially those words connoted the same intimacies in most regards, when it came to the priest and his little songbird. Whilst a fathers eyes were meant to be hawk like over his daughter, Yvette was no stranger to her ownobservationswhen it came to her PapaWith a catty jealousy, she held close to his arm whenever walking in public, doting upon him at all times in a manner more proper for a wife. She tended to him with a devotion more pure and adoring than her service to the church...And when eyes of women who recalled his legends came prowling much too close Yvette, with claws bared, would chase them off in some not so subtle mannerTaking pride in seeing their eyes slightly widen, and their steps retreat whenever she would pass them soon after..Her Papa did not need themHe had her, always Even now he had her, guilty conscious and all as she opened the door to the den with an elegant smile playing upon her face. She felt her knees buckling beneath her gownOverwhelmed by his presence and the emotions he could stir about inside of her without saying a single word. As if butterflies were set loose within her stomach and were tickling her from the inside. Yvette stayed near the door for a moment, her fingers tracing upon the golden lion etched into a box atop of one of the end tables where her confessional rosary was kept. She was always punished in this room, save for the few occurrences where she took flight and was punished promptly and more severely wherever Papa managed to catch her. Usually however, it was hereOver top of the chair which her Uncle Athos had built. One that he always pointed out every week with a grin of confidence as his finest pieceAlways, her Papa would chuckle and glance her wayAlways, she would blush and focus anywhere else but that chair Hello Papa, youre home early, She curtsied respectfully, moving her hands behind her back after releasing her skirts, entwining her fingers together as she approached him. Yvette tried with utmost difficulty to focus upon him, so that her pretty hazel eyes would not wander and give her guilt away..It was Sundayhe could not be too upset with her. Especially with their guests to be arriving in a matter of hours! Supper still needed to be prepared, the table to be set, surely he would dismiss such a silly thing as retrieving spices from town without an escort! Instead of lifting her skirtsinstead of laying her lithe young body over the length of her Papas sturdy lap..Instead of making the sign of the cross, and pressing the rosary inside of that box between her palms before starting her prayers of forgivenessYvette sat down on her Papas knee, leaning up to kiss his cheek, nuzzling at the edges of his facial hair affectionately. Her hands unlaced from behind her back,and instead draped around his neck, her fingers stroking in his hair as she smiled as convincingly as she could..But again, those pretty petals trembled..Yvette could not lie to her Papa, nor keep secrets....