Silas was still asleep, breathing softly. Genevieve decided not to disturb him. She lay her head onto his shoulder, sighing. She felt so peaceful.
Silas eyes fluttered open. Genevieve had her head on his shoulder, looking straight ahead, as if thinking. He yawned, and sat up straighter.
"Good morning, Genny," he smiled. Genevieve turned and smiled also.
"Hello, Silas."
"Were you okay sleeping propped up against the wall all night?" Silas asked, feeling a pain through his back now, from having to lean on the wall for about eight hours.
"Oh, of course I was," Genevieve said. She gazed out the window again, "what are we going to do about today?"
"What?"
"We can't stay in here all day," Genevieve said, "you need to go to mass or else your bishop will know something is up."
"Um, Bishop Aringarosa knows I'm in love," Silas confessed.
"Huh?" Genevieve looked up at him.
"Last night while you slept, he came to see me after mass," Silas explained, "when I got love sick yesterday, I didn't know what it was until you told me. He doesn't know that we're together, and he doesn't know about Jean."
"Then how did you explain your face?" asked Genevieve.
"I told him I had been out for a while and was beaten by a stranger after wandering into some abandonned alley."
Genevieve lay her head back onto Silas' broad shouler, "for a monk, you lie pretty well."
Silas knew it was a complement, but it was something he shouldn't be congradualted for.
"I'm not supposed to lie," he said, guiltily, "I didn't want to lie, but it was either that or never see you again."
"If you are truly sorry," Genevieve said, "just ask for forgivness and try to avoid lying at all costs."
It was a pretty reasonable plan, but Silas still had something disturbing him. He was breaking his vows behind everyone's back. He felt like such a traitor. But he pushed the feeling away. They had another problem to deal with: The day.
Genevieve looked at her watch. It was eight. If there wasn't anybody in the lobby, they could easily slip out and hang around London for some time.
Silas wasn't so sure. If they were caught, there were consiquences he and Genevieve would rather not recieve. But it was barley eight, and most of the numeraries were still in their rooms praying. So, he agreed to Genevieve's plan. He just said a quick prayer before he left, took Genevieve by the hand and led her silently along the corridor.
As they crept silently down the stairs, Genevieve accidently hit a creaky part of the stairs. They stopped to listen for anybody coming. Nothing. They breathed easy and made their way down the stairs, through the lobby and out the front door.
It was a nice day in London. Slightly overcast, but there was a hint of blue sky about. Silas and Genevieve made their way down the street until the Opus Dei headquarters were out of sight.
"Oh! There's this really nice place I'd like you to see!" Genevieve said to him. She lead Silas down a couple more blocks and into the park she had found Silas earlier.
Genevieve hoped she remembered where that spot in the park was. Everything seemed to fly out of her head once she found Silas passed out with a bloody wound under his ribs, but thankfully she found the place.
It was a little brook with a small bridge passing over it. Some wild flower grew a little bit along the banks. It was almost like a place you would find in a fairy tale.
"I had wandered away from Jean the day I found you for a little while," Genevieve said, "I thought this place was perfect to relax. It kind of takes you out of this cruel world for a bit."
Silas had to agree. This place was deserted and completely quiet except for the soft babbling of the brook. He and Genevieve sat down near the brook, staring into space.
"You know," Genevieve said, "ever since I met you, I've felt like my world was perfect."
Silas smiled, warmed by Genevieve's words. He held her close.
"And I feel the same with you," he said, "you calm me even though, if we get caught, we'll be in trouble."
Genevieve giggled a bit. "Don't worry about it, Silas," she reassured him, "we won't get caught. I promise."
Silas faced her and smiled again. They were about to kiss, but a horribly familiar voice was heard behind them.
"Well, well, well, look at the happy couple," it said. Silas and Genevieve turned to see Jean standing there, smiling sarcastically with a bruised jaw and shin.
"How did you find us?" Silas asked, angrily.
"Simple," Jean said, "when Genevieve knocked me out yesterday, I saw you runnning back to the Opus Dei headquarters before I blacked out, and you obviously couldn't stay there, Genevieve, so I suspected you'd go back to place where you first met." There was a tone of anger, jealousy, and sarcasim on the last note of Jean's sentance.
Silas angrily got up, helping Genevieve also. "Come, Genny," he said, "we needn't be here with him." Genevieve nodded and walked off with him, but Jean followed.
"I won't get mad at you two any more," Jean said, striding behind them.
"Good, now leave us," Genevieve said, knowing he was lying.
"Oh, I will," Jean said, "but I have a question for your new boyfriend."
Silas rolled his eyes. "I'm listening," he said, sarcastically.
"Good," Jean said, "why are you a part of Opus Dei?"
Silas didn't answer.
"You're a monk, you're not allowed to love Genevieve."
That familiar guilt hit Silas again. His cheeks burned, but he kept on walking.
"Why join that cult anyway?" Jean continued, "all you do is pray, pray, pray, and hurt yourself."
"Opus Dei is not a cult," Silas answered, shortly, "it's a catholic group, and I like to hurt myslef." He saw Genevieve cringed when he said that. He mouthed the words 'I'm sorry' to her. She nodded, understanding.
"Well, I think it's barbaric and pointless," Jean pressed on, "who cares about God anyway? Everyone knows He doesn't exsist."
Silas stopped. Jean had really pushed that button.
Release your hatred, he told himself, forgive those who tresspassed against you. He tried, but what Jean said really got to him.
"Honestly, I think religion is just a bunch of boloney," Jean continued, getting the reaction out of Silas that he wanted, "it's all just lies, lies, and more lies."
Silas' hands clenched into fists. He tried to block out Jean's hateful words, but they just kept breaking through to his ears.
"As for Opus Dei," he scoffed, "I hope they overturn and perish."
Finally, Silas lost it. Jean had insulted the very thing that saved him! He ran at Jean, hoping to hurt him as much and humanly possible. But Silas forgot this man was much bigger and stronger than he was, as much as it was hard to believe. Silas swung his fist at Jean, but Jean grabbed his wrist, twisted it, until Silas yelled out in pain, and his knees gave way. He fell to the ground.
Silas tried to wrench his wrist away from the awful man, but he was met face to face with a gun.
"Silas!" Genevieve tried to rush to his aid, but Jean pointed the gun at her.
"Don't move another step," he said, "or this bullet will find it's way right through your lover's head." Jean turned his attention to Silas. "And if you try anything funny, the same fate goes for her!"
Genevieve looked at the two men, with tears blurring her vision.
"Jean, je vous déteste," she managed, her voice full of hate for the man that held her poor Silas now.
Jean forced a pained smile onto his face. He turned back to Silas.
"You stole her from me," he whispered, "this is all of your fault. You deserve her as much as I deserve to let her go with you."
Right now, Silas had regretted throwing his gun down a drain earlier.
Jean threw Silas down once again, still keeping him at gun point, as he moved towards Genevieve. He caught her by the waist and held her close.
"You will tell nobody of what happened here," Jean told him, backing up to a small parked car near the road.
"And if you do," Jean said, opening the car door, "my dear Genny will be gone before you know it."
With that, Jean forced Genevieve into the car, and drove off, leaving Silas alone, once again.