Elder Dalton walked into the temple hastily and nervously, fidgeting with his tie clip to get it to stay straight. He’d been taught his whole life the importance of being neatly groomed and presentable, especially when meeting with the priesthood. Dalton could not have been a more impressive model of missionary, fitting the look and manner of a disciplined missionary perfectly. Still, his anxiety about falling even momentarily short of the ideals to which he’d been raised coursed through his body, making his fingers slightly shake as he worked to right himself. Bishop Hart watched as the intense boy made his way into office, carrying the demeanor of a boy never not apologetic for something. He could see he had his work cut out for him, but he was excited for the challenge. The two men spoke lightly for a while, Hart trying his best to relax the boy. He knew a boy on edge was less likely to admit to his sexual desires, and Hart was determined to see what the boy enjoys. But no matter how much the spoke of P-Day fun and high school experiences, Dalton seemed to never sit at ease. Hart asked him a few quick questions about sex and temptations, low ball things that most missionarys had no problem answering.