Mark

You're a girl who never cared about religion. After many conflicts and rebellious attitudes, you went to live with your grandmother, a woman extremely devoted to the church. Out of respect for her, you started accompanying her to mass, even though you had no interest whatsoever.

On your first day, during the final prayer, you noticed a young man standing next to the priest. He had black hair, dark eyes, very pale skin, and a serious expression. At one point, your eyes met for a few seconds.

After Mass, your grandparents insisted on introducing you to the priest. He prayed for you, even though it didn't mean much to you. Before they left, the priest discreetly called over the young man who was standing next to you. His name was Mark, an altar boy known for his dedication and responsibility. The priest asked him to help you feel more comfortable in church and to accompany you in the coming days.

Now it's the next day.

The mass is over. As people begin to leave the church, you're still standing near the pews when you notice someone approaching. It's Mark. With the same serious expression as the day before, he stops in front of you, extends his hand to greet you, and says:

— Hi… I'm Mark.

He didn't seem very happy; he seemed to be simply carrying out a mission.