Work Text:
Your head slowly sinks into your hands. Thoughts race through your mind — tasks to complete, responsibilities weighing heavily on your shoulders. You’re here in a quiet cemetery to get away from it all. Despite working from home, you still find yourself unable to tear yourself from your laptop or work phone, even when you’re not on the clock. All devices have been left at home, save for your personal phone. Even with all of the noise left behind, you are still struggling with the noise of your own mind. There aren’t enough hours in the day to deal with it all, or at least that’s how it feels.
A cool breeze caresses your skin, easing tension as your shoulders slump. Perhaps if you stay still long enough you’ll just evaporate into the wind and cease to be. That would be a relief, you think, but you know it’s impossible. This is as close as you’ll get to that. You chuckle to yourself, you didn’t expect feeling this way as a fully fledged adult. These feelings have ebbed and flowed through your life and as you became an adult you realized that maturing doesn’t just solve all your problems. In fact, it usually introduces more problems. You rub your eyes before lifting your heavy head up, vision settling on the headstones and statues in front of you.
“Admiring the view?”
You jump slightly, startled by the sudden voice. Turning your head, you see a man in a black cassock standing a few feet away. His curious eyes catch your attention—one green, the other a ghostly white. You start to collect yourself, remembering that you had pushed open a gate to get inside. Is this a private cemetery? “S-sorry, I’ll get going.”
The man raises his hands, his thick Italian accent catching you further off guard. "No, no, please. You are welcome to stay." He gestures with an open palm toward the bench you're sitting on. "Eh, I did not mean to startle you. It's rare for anyone to be this far from the Abbey. But you are not a member, are you?”
You shake your head, still a bit startled. "No, I'm not. I... I just needed some quiet. Is this place off-limits?" You glance around, suddenly feeling like an intruder. The man's mismatched eyes soften, a gentle smile tugging at his lips.
"Off-limits? No, no," he chuckles, waving a hand dismissively. As he steps closer, you take in his appearance. His features are a striking blend of sharp and smooth - a pronounced, pointed nose balanced by high, elegant cheekbones. Brown hair, speckled with strands of silver, frames his face beneath his biretta. What catches your attention most, however, is the thin layer of black paint carefully applied around his eyes and upper lip, making his mismatched gaze glow.
Despite his unusual appearance, there's something undeniably charming about him. He moves with a slight awkwardness, as if not entirely comfortable in his own skin, but it only adds to his peculiar appeal. His voice, when he speaks again, is warm and inviting. "I am Cardinal Copia," he introduces himself with a slight bow. "And you are most welcome here. Sometimes we all need a moment of quiet, no?"
You nod slowly, still feeling a bit uneasy. There's something about him that doesn't quite fit the image of a typical church official. Maybe it's the face paint, or those mismatched eyes, or just the overall aura he exudes. You can't quite put your finger on it, but there's an air of... unconventionality about him. "Thank you, Cardinal," you manage to say, your voice hesitant. "I appreciate the welcome. I just... I didn't expect to encounter anyone here, let alone a Cardinal."
His smile widens, though it falters slightly as he stumbles over his own feet. He catches himself on the bench, a faint blush coloring his cheeks beneath the face paint. "Ah, ehm, life is full of unexpected... things, yes?" He gestures awkwardly to the empty space beside you, nearly knocking off his biretta in the process. "May I... oh, pardon me," he mumbles, readjusting his hat. "May I join you? We could, eh, share this quiet moment. Together. If you'd like, that is."
You hesitate for a moment, then nod. "Sure, please." You scoot over slightly, making room for the Cardinal on the bench. He sits down carefully, smoothing his cassock as he settles in beside you. For a while, you both sit in comfortable silence, the cool breeze rustling through the nearby trees. It's an odd situation—you aren’t seeking spiritual guidance—yet his presence feels strangely welcome.
After some time, Cardinal Copia turns to you, his mismatched eyes filled with gentle curiosity. "If you don't mind me asking," he begins, his Italian accent rolling off his tongue, "what brings you to this quiet place today? You seem... troubled, perhaps?"
You take a deep breath, considering how to respond to this unusual but kind stranger. "Well," you begin, your voice hesitant but you figure this sort of thing is part of his job, "I've been feeling overwhelmed lately. Work, responsibilities, the constant noise of everything... it's all been piling up.”
Cardinal Copia nods slowly in understanding. "Ah, yes. The weight of the world can be... very heavy, no? It is good to seek moments of peace." He gestures around the cemetery with a slightly clumsy wave. "This place, it offers solace to both the living and the dead."
You find yourself oddly comforted by his despite the morbidity of them. "I just... I didn't expect adulthood to be this challenging. Sometimes I feel like I'm drowning in everything I’m supposed to do.”
The Cardinal chuckles softly, the sound warm and reassuring. "Life is a, eh... a continuous journey of learning. The path is not always clear, even for a Cardinal." He lets out a small, self-deprecating chuckle. "Perhaps especially for a Cardinal. But that is okay. We are all human, yes? Imperfect, but always trying."
As you observe Cardinal Copia more closely, you notice a flicker of something in his mismatched eyes. Behind his comforting smile and reassuring words, there's a hint of weariness and of deep understanding. In that moment, you realize that Cardinal Copia understands your struggles more deeply than you initially thought. His eyes seem to reflect a lifetime of experiences and challenges. This realization brings an unexpected wave of comfort washing over you. Instead of offering more advice or platitudes, he simply extends his gloved hand towards you, palm up. The gesture is undemanding, yet filled with silent support. You hesitate again for a moment before slowly placing your hand in his, feeling the smooth leather against your fingers.
You sit there, hand in hand with this strange man feeling more seen than you ever have before. The silence between you is comfortable, filled with a shared understanding that words can't quite capture. As the breeze rustles through the cemetery, you feel a sense of peace settling over you. The weight on your shoulders seems to lighten, if only for this moment. He really is good at his job.
"Thank you, Cardinal," you whisper. The Cardinal gently squeezes your hand, his eyes twinkling with warmth.
"N-no need for thanks," he says, his voice like honey despite the slight stammer. "We are all on this journey together, eh?" He nods reassuringly before returning his gaze back to the somber landscape of tombstones and statues. The sky begins to darken, stars becoming visible and you realize more time has passed than you thought. With a hint of reluctance, you turn to Cardinal Copia.
“I should be going now. Thank you for... well, everything."
The Cardinal nods again, giving your hand one last squeeze before letting it go. "Of course, of course. You are welcome here anytime." His voice lowers slightly, taking on a darker tone. "I shall keep you in my prayers. May the... eh, powers that be watch over you."
You're already on your feet, but you halt in front of him, unable to shake the subtle shift in the Cardinal's demeanor. There's something in his smile, a glint in his mismatched eyes that seems almost... mischievous. You can't quite put your finger on it, but there's a vague sense of something not quite holy about his parting words. The intrigue tugs at you, a subtle pull you can't ignore. Cardinal Copia and this place have captured your curiosity in a way you didn't expect. His eyes follow you as he gives a fluttering wave goodbye.
As you exit the cemetery, you cast one last glance over your shoulder. The Cardinal's silhouette stands out starkly against the darkening sky, still perched on the bench. A shiver runs down your spine—not entirely unpleasant—and you realize, with surprising certainty, that this won't be your last visit. All you needed was to say it out loud and have someone hear you, and he gave you exactly what you needed. You know you'll feel this way again, and when you do, you'll seek him out.
You make your way home with a newfound sense of calm. Though somewhat awkward, the conversation with the Cardinal has left you with a strange mix of comfort and intrigue and a clear mind. Your problems haven't disappeared, but they no longer seem impossible.
You're ready to face another day.