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are, er, disgusting ."
    They both glared at their garments: a bleached to sky blue, ripped robe covered Jacob. A lax opening to his navel showed lines of grease covering his skin, making Jeremy's heart quickly beat rapidly over the impulsive need to clean and scrub the area thoroughly.
    Jacob beheld Jeremy: hair askew, clothes rumpled and stained, with lines of red and brown marks marring the pale flesh. The image was comical: seeing Jeremy's power-holding figure all rumpled . It brought a tight and hesitant smile to his lips, not thinking of the fact that he looked similarly uncouth.
    Jeremy took this smile as assent, so he leapt around the island counter and grasped both of Jacob's hands that were floundering aimlessly and tapping nervously at his side. With a firm grasp, he tugged, leading Jacob slowly out of the kitchen, waiting anxiously for any disagreement. At the same time, making sure, he did not think about the dark, plump curves peeking coyly from below the hem of Jacob's robe, nor the firm buttocks impressed against the fabric…
    Fighting the urge to stare and contemplate what he saw, he focused on more pressing matters. The rush of action had begun to make his own head spin and he was feeling filthy.
    Jacob swallowed a lump in his throat as he was led to the front door. A slight sweat broke out on his hands, hidden by the slick sludge coating them from cleaning. With relief, he was guided to the rising steps opposite the door. Walking over the carpet, soft and lush under his soiled feet, he became nervous and self-conscious, as he climbed to the next floor and its corridor.
    Jacob distracted himself by scheming how to remove the prints he was leaving in his wake before Jeremy noticed. From the phrases of instructions on the various cleaning bottles that his mind quickly ran through, he considered the best options while being led forward by Jeremy. Especially after watching Jeremy thoroughly rub down every surface until it sparkled…
    Jacob quickly interrupted himself. Jeremy's quite amazing! To lead me – while going backwards through this maze …
    Jeremy noticed Jacob's quickening breath as he moved forward to the bathroom. He reluctantly released the warm hands he held to open the door to his destination. He could hear his heart thumping in his skull as his hand slipped while trying to apply the force needed to twist the knob to enter. Although focused on this task, Jeremy could not help but notice Jacob's head bowing down in consternation, his feet shuffling self-consciously, leaving dirty brown marks across the thick cream carpet fibres.
    Opening the door, with a hushed exhalation of breath, he quickly entered, pulling Jacob along with him into the cool depths.
    CHAPTER 8 – The Cleansing
    I can't help it.
    I realise some of my actions are compulsive or obsessive, but there is nothing that can wholly distract me. They laughed at my diary keeping, but these journals are now what keep my thoughts sharp. Likewise, my routine may be constricting and weighty but I have an eternity to complete it, so I will seldom be driven to distraction. And if I am? Well, I eventually stop and return to my routine. There is nothing else.
    I maintain all of this with meticulous precision, from cleanliness to Duty, all in their specific places in my life. The former is not even important: good hygiene is one effect of my immortality. However, it is the value of the routine that provides the benefit. It's the indulgence of scalding water over the nerves, with scents and warm cleansers, that provides such luxury!
    In hindsight, I knew I shouldn't have slept by the fire – I probably got dehydrated and started reliving my nightmares. If I can't cope with such stimuli, how can I cope? I awoke the next morning feeling hollow inside, and that is not a good sign. Pathetic really. But I'll still carry on.
    Ha! As characters from some of those books say, there's a little violin – whatever that is – playing for me somewhere.
    ~