Hungering Teeth.

III.

FEBRUARY 22nd, 1791.

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"You know, Agnus, faith has always guided our family through the hardest times. Your mother... she never lost her faith, even at the end." Her eyes were kind but filled with depth of emotion Agnus rarely seen. "We must hold on to it, especially when the world seems so uncertain." Mabel spoke.

Amidst it all, were nagging questions, confusing whispers. The wretched sensation of being caught between two worlds, tearing at his insides. He wished to put that torment into words for Mabel, but all he managed was, "I know, Grandma. It just feels like everything's wearing on me," he admitted.

He folded the towel he was holding, his eyes not leaving the counter. He felt guilty for doubting something so sacred to his family, but the turmoil inside was unmistakable.

"It's hard, Agnus. We all have our doubts, but it's how we choose to deal with them that matters."

His routine had been his anchor in the storm: trudging through the muck of the farm, bar tending at Uncle Lester's, and serving God in church on Sundays. He saw the flutter of the white doves that congregated at the back of the church. The shifting hymns, the way people's voices would rise, a testament to faith. The pressure to uphold his family's values and the teachings of the church was taking hold. He wondered whether God could love a boy who loved another man, who didn't quite fit the mold of what the church deemed acceptable.

Honestly, he was sick of praying. Singing the same old hymn.

"I want to believe, I do. I just... find myself thinking about other things, too."

"And what troubles you so, my dear?" Mabel placed the last dish in the cupboard and then returned to Agnus, her warm hands on his.

"My path." He answered, words heavy. "How I'm to live in this world that sees me as I am. And how to love whom I love." His voice quivered, the true depth of the conflict now revealed to his grandmother.

"We all have to find our way, Agnus. God will guide you, as he has guided us. Just remember that your faith remains constant. The path is a winding road, but his love for you never falters." Tears began to well up in Mabel's eyes. "Trust in Him, even when it's hard to see," she added.

Agnus felt the warmth of his grandmother's hands seep into his own, grounding him at the moment, but the turmoil inside him still churned like a stormy sea. Her words were a balm, yet they also carried the weight of expectations he wasn't sure he could meet.

"How could he burden her with the full truth of his heart?"

"I'll try, Grandma," he murmured. He wanted to believe in the simple, unwavering faith she spoke of, but the truth was far more complicated. Every sermon, every prayer, every hymn seemed to twist around him, tightening a noose that threatened to choke the very breath from his lungs.

Agnus swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet her gaze. "I'm scared, Grandma," he admitted. "Scared that I'm losing myself... that I'm losing my faith. And I don't know if I can get it back."

Mabel's eyes glistened with unshed tears, and she pulled him into a gentle embrace. "Faith isn't something you lose, my dear. It's something you carry with you, even when you don't realize it. It's in your heart, in the way you treat others, and in the love you give. It's not always about the hymns or the prayers... sometimes, it's just about holding on, even when everything else feels like it's slipping away."

He closed his eyes, letting her words wash over him. For a moment, he allowed himself to believe that it could be that simple, that he could find peace in the love she spoke of.

The cool air nipped at his face as he trudged across the field, the snow sloshing, his boots sinking into the earth with each step. He could feel the weight of the day's work on his shoulders, the ache in his muscles a reminder of the endless tasks that needed to be done.

The windmill creaked as a breeze blew across the field, the metallic scent of rain heavy in the air.

Agnus approached it slowly, seeing Luther's form leaning against the rusted wheel. There was a weariness in his posture that seemed to mirror his own.

"Hey. . ." His voice was soft as he watched Agnus approach. "I thought you'd be here sooner."

"Was doing some work on the farm, helping round the house, usual." Agnus replied, stepping closer and planting a kiss on his beloved's lips.

Luther pulled him closer, returning the kiss. The world and its burdens briefly dissipated as their lips met.

"You know I'd follow you to the ends of the earth, right?" Luther whispered against his lips.

Agnus nods, cupping his cheeks before pulling away.

"We need to talk." Luther said.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"Nothing's wrong." He paused, his eyes searching Agnus's face. "It's just... I know how much your faith means to you. The way you talk about it, the way you live it. But I feel like I'm just standing in your way." He looked out over the fields, his jaw clenching. "I'm scared that I'm going to lose you to it. To God."

"You know, you'll never lose me. I promise you."

"I know you mean that, Agnus. But I can see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice. You're struggling. With them, with me. I don't want to be the cause of you turning away from something that's so important to you."

He reached out and took Agnus's hand, squeezing it tight. "If you need to take a step back, I understand. We can still be friends."

"No, wait." His heart sunk into his boots at the thought. "I may stumble, but I'm not leaving. Our bond, it's my purpose, Luther. The voice that guides me. I won't let them take that from me."

He met his gaze, his eyes pleading with him to see the sincerity of his words. "The struggle, it's within me. Don't blame yourself, my love. It's just part of it... this cross I have to bear for now."

Luther's grip on Agnus's hand loosened, before squeezing it tightly again. His teeth gritted as a mix of worry and pride flickered through his eyes. "Promise me you won't let it consume you," he whispered, his voice shaking.

He leaned in for a gentle kiss, holding Agnus close this time. "Let's pray for strength together, Agnus. Let us both find our way in this darkness."

Under the heavens that spanned from horizon to horizon, Agnus made his way back to the farm. His mind weighed heavy with thought, but Luther's words remained a comfort. As the evening descended into night, Agnus retired to the chapel. He knelt before the altar and bowed his head.

"Dear Lord," Agnus whispered into the darkness, his voice trembling as he clasped his hands together tightly. "I come to you tonight with a heavy heart, burdened by thoughts I can't seem to escape. You know everything about me—my hopes, my fears, the secrets I keep even from those I love."

"I'm trying, Lord, I'm trying to walk the path you've laid out for me. But it's so hard. I feel torn between who I am and who I'm supposed to be. I love my family, and I want to make them proud, to be the man they believe I am. But there's this part of me...this part that loves Luther so deeply, and I don't know how to reconcile that with everything I've been taught."

His voice caught, and he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I know what the church says, what my family believes, and I'm so scared, Lord. Scared of losing them, scared of losing myself. I don't want to be a sinner, I don't want to disappoint you, but how can something that feels so right be so wrong?"

Tears welled in his eyes as he continued, his words barely a whisper. "Please, God, show me the way. Help me understand what I'm supposed to do. Give me the strength to face whatever comes, and the courage to be true to myself, even if it means walking a path I never expected. I need Your guidance, now more than ever."

Agnus's hands trembled as he finished. "Please, Lord, don't let me lose my way. Amen."

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ripedsins.