You were always told growing up that loving another woman was wrong. It was disgusting. It wasn't an uncommon thought around here- religion ran rampant and Valeria had seen first hand the lives it had destroyed. The love it had snuffed out under its unforgiving heel, leaving barely a memory of those people behind.

Valeria had long since abandoned her Catholicism, part due to disbelief and part out of respect. She couldn't in good conscious follow such teachings when her every day life broke every sin in that damn book. She had blood on her hands, hands that used to break bread now broke necks- she didn't need the blood of Christ when the blood of her people still stained the streets at her behest.

But she wasn't against the idea of religion, it was what kept some people going, it got others through there life and she could see the appeal in that. But what she couldn't agree with, was what it was doing to you. She has seen your struggle, heard your cries and pleas for forgiveness. And Valeria couldn't take it anymore, couldn't stand to see what this religion was doing to her lover, all the self-hate, the doubt and shame. It was unbearable.

You stood in front of Valeria who was sat on the edge of the bed, holding your hands in her own, thumbs gently rubbing over knuckles as if trying to push the love and the words into your skin. "Mi amor, there is nothing wrong with you. There is nothing wrong with us, why can't you see that?" Valeria questioned, reaching her hand up to caress your face with a sigh. Valeria loved you and she would be damned if she lost you to some conservative ideology. But you were so lost, how could she convince the woman that she loved that something you were brought up with, something that was engrained into every fibre of your being, was wrong?