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unconsciously harmonised their efforts to the other, mirroring each other's motions as they cleaned the kitchen.
    At one point, they both agreed to finish cleaning, without words or motions, and moved to rearrange the piles. Jeremy focused on sorting the heaps, putting things in their proper place, while Jacob walked out to remove the refuse. Neither considered the opportunity that this freedom provided, confident that the other would return to the rhythmic circular motions of wiping surfaces clean and creating order.
    Eventually, the kitchen was flawless again; however, it was considerably emptier. It also contained another "monster" – as every other person would say, omitting Jeremy – within its walls. Not that either of them were eager to claim such a title in their exile.
    CHAPTER 7 – The Switch
    I have the strength and ability of many men together.
    My alien nature marking me as an abnormal that the past has turned into a demon. Abhorred and detested, I found no haven with people. Instead, I learned from example to be independent and self-sufficient.
    I can't make the same mistake of trust as my parents had. "Setting roots" in a place with people who claim sympathy; but only to make their cruelty all the more sweeter when they massacred my parents and desecrated everything they held dear before our eyes – antiques and personal mementos all destroyed in seconds.
    My power, strength and dominance were triggered as I stormed through the mob at our door and into the wilderness of the fallen world that I now call my home. The previously dormant aspect of my nature coming to the front thus, my ancestry became apparent. The last in a diluted line; enough to live, but not enough to be human.
    ~ Jacob, musings.
     
    " Here," said Jeremy breathlessly. He handed Jacob a glass of cold water with condensation dripping down the side. "To help with your stomach," Jeremy added awkwardly, turning away as Jacob rose from his final ministrations to grasp the drink, meeting Jeremy's eyes with a hard focus. Jeremy busied himself by clearing away the cleaning supplies, reluctant to leave the room, relegating all the supplies into the corner cupboard, taking great interest and forced concentration in ordering the space.
    Exhausted from cleaning and surviving through life's trials, with skin rubbed raw and filthy, the cold from the glass permeated his hand with a soothing embrace. His throat was so dry from work and fumes; he knew he could not talk, even if he was able to break the enchantment holding him. The one glass held such relief that it brought tears to the corners of his bloodshot eyes; not weeping simply due to his dehydration. Jeremy just had an authority over him that Jacob could not fathom. Jacob drank slowly, savouring every sip.
    Jacob would not admit how Jeremy's compassion and lack of an obvious commanding air left him powerless under Jeremy's authority.
    A short while later, when there was no more work to complete, the embarrassment was forgotten as they both stood and faced each other. Neither comprehended the fluttering in their stomachs as anything more than the consequence of inhaling fumes for so long. Nor could they understand why the other seemed so close even as they stood on either side of the island counter.
    Jeremy put aside this feeling for later; instead, letting the calming feelings neutralise the warmth spreading in his chest so that he would be able to act with further motion. With an audible deep breath, Jeremy took charge and began dispensing with his Duties in light of a more important one.
    "Okay," Jeremy dictated uncomfortably, "now the room is clean, it is only right that, erm, we should be as well." Jeremy's cheeks heated, as he refused to think on the implications of his order.
    Seeing incomprehension in Jacob's eyes, like someone remembering a distant dream, with lined brows, Jeremy elucidated. "Come, follow me, I'll take you and, erm, show you where to go. Because we're dirty and these clothes