Purity- a Salvis story (completed)

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I twiddled my thumbs in a familiar pew of the church. Anxiety was the only thing I felt. I was anxious about the fact that I had skipped school... again, Anxious about what my father would do if he ever found out, But mostly anxious about saying what I had to say out loud:

That I was having homosexual thoughts.

Shit it even sounded disgusting...

"Travis? Is that you, my boy?"

I whipped around. Monseñor Kreuger stood at the entrance to the sanctum, blessing himself as he walked in. A smile spread to his face as mine was illuminated.

"Ah, it is. I didn't expect to see you at adoration so early. Don't you have school today, son?"

"Oh, um..." I took a breath, "Technically. But I needed to talk to you, and I figured god came over school so-"

Monseñor chuckled.

"If I had a dime for every time I heard that I could feed the world."

"I know, I'm sorry-" I shot back, a little flustered-

"It was a joke, my son. I know you're not the kind of kid to play hookie without a good reason."

I looked at my shoes, seeing as it was Wednesday and I hadn't been to class all week, the main reason being... well, you know.

"You know what?" He placed a hand on my shoulder, starting to sense something was wrong, "How about we go to my office? We can talk there."

His face was kind, calming. He looked at you like he genuinely cared. The way a father looks at his son.

A good father, anyway.

"That'd be great." I responded, letting a small smile spread across my face, though I knew it wouldn't last.

The walk to the office was mostly filled with small talk from monsignor: 'Hows the new school?', 'Make any new friends?', 'How's your sister?', etc. I wasn't giving much of a response. Not that I was being impolite or anything, I just wasn't really in a talking mood. Not to mention, My mouth was getting drier by the second.

Monseñor took a seat in his chair at the head of his desk and gestured for me to sit across the way. The smaller chair squeaked a little as I followed his request.

It reminded me a bit of my dad's office...

I immediately shook that image out of my head. I wasn't going to start hyperventilating in front of Monsignor.

"Alright," he sighed adjusting his weight in the office chair he resided in. It seemed out of place in the oak-trimmed room that looked more or less the same as it did in the 40s.

"So what did you need to talk to me about?"

"I-"

Suddenly the words felt like cement in my mouth. This was going to be harder then I thought.

"It's- uh... it's complicated..."

"Well, I can tell. You've barely spoke a word sense you walked in," he laughed.

"Sorry I just-... it is kind of a lot."

"Whatever it is, Son, I promise we'll get through it. I'm not going to judge you, and I'm proud of you for simply coming to talk to me."

I don't know why, but my heart skipped a beat at the words. He was proud. I looked back up to the same kind look in his eyes. As a warm feeling spread across my chest, I realized that I believed him 100%. We would get through this. I was gonna get better.