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“My God, it’s so freaking cold out there!” Isco yells as he closes the door and kicks off his wet shoes. “You must have frozen to death in that church! I’m almost glad I had to work.”
No answer comes. The barn is unusually quiet.
“Álvaro?” Isco calls and looks in the kitchen.
It’s empty.
Actually, no, it's not.
Álvaro is sitting in the corner, curled up, crying silently.
“Álvaro!” Isco blurts out and jumps to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Nothing,” Álvaro sobs.
“You’re not crying for nothing,” Isco says. “Tell me.”
“Nothing happened, I went to church.”
“And?”
Álvaro’s eyes are puffy and he is sobbing so hard that Isco is worried that he got at least mobbed on the way to church, or worse.
“And I talked to the priest and…”
Oh. Finally, Isco understands.
“You’re not going there anymore!” Isco says resolutely.
Álvaro finally stops crying and looks at him. “What? But…”
“I’m really fed up with finding you sad or crying every time you do,” Isco says. “The priest hates you!”
“He’s a priest, Isco!” Álvaro sniffles. “How could he even hate someone?”
“He does. And he enjoys hurting you, and if he does it ever again, I’ll smack him even though he’s a priest.”
“You can’t…”
“I’ll smack him real hard.”
Álvaro smiles. “Thank you,” he whispers. “But don’t.”
“I have to do something!” Isco objects.
“Then hug me.”
Isco smiles as well and wraps his arms around Álvaro. Álvaro snuggles up to him and grips the fabric of Isco’s sleeves, and lays his head on Isco’s chest.
“Feel like we’re sinning?” Isco asks him, stroking his head.
“No,” Álvaro whispers.
“Good,” Isco says and places a kiss in his hair. “It means you still have hope to be saved.”