Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 7

trail of destruction he had wrought in his fit of insanity. Jacob only took the best course of action available to him , Jeremy conceded. His sense of order, previously lost with the abuse of his kitchen and stressful events, revived with a place in his heart for his new companion. It also marked the creation of another mental barrier to protect him from his self-destructive feelings as he selflessly threw himself into the newly resolved charity, whether Jacob liked it or not.
    This decision was final. His frown dissolved into a relaxed, congenial expression.
    His purpose was renewed.
    CHAPTER 6 – The Understanding
    What can I say? Fate bit me back.
    Listening to my stomach, I was just so hungry, but I knew the consequences! Now I'm cleaning up after my depravity, knees and elbows deep in the mess. When rotten, it all feels the same, so while it all feels fresh with every texture, clinging to every crease of my skin there is nothing to describe the pervasive revulsion of the task with the new friction driving me to distraction. How demeaning and degrading all this is! Not even the robe will live out this punishment without its own scars.
    But I couldn't stop. I deserved this. The kindness he, Jeremy, gave me was more than I deserve, and less than what he does. I should know better. This is the least I can do for his hospitality, no matter how spontaneous.
    The pain is a small consequence to atonement for my judgement and mistreatment of… Jeremy. My nostrils are burning from the fumes and the ruined food. Even with the temptation to leave, to eat, to do as I wish, I will persevere and do what I know is right.
    ~ Jacob, musings.
     
    THE RHYTHMIC sound of fluids slapping and sliding across the floor rang throughout the kitchen. Jacob had already sorted anything that could be picked up into three piles. The first, on the island counter, were items that seemed all right; the second, on the opposing side of the counter, held the items that might be all right; and lastly, the third pile, in the corner, housing everything else.
    It was towards this last pile that Jacob pushed the sticky sludge. He may not know where things went, or how to work in a domestic environment, but Jacob felt proud at the rudimentary organisation and inventive ingenuity of his efforts and their results.
    Jacob was chagrined at the fact that the prophesised digestion problems began to churn within his stomach, making him edgy and nauseated. He continued nonetheless, with the regular sweeps of the wet hand brush, pushing a moist mess off the counter top onto the floor, and then in the direction of the waste pile in the corner. Finally, only a trail of stickiness remained after thoroughly sweeping and scrubbing – most of it clinging to Jacob.
    The front door shut with barely a whisper. Jacob remained oblivious to the cool breeze admitted by the now closed door, incapable of refreshing the warm, fuming kitchen air – his focus was entirely on the ritual of cleaning.
    Jeremy silently entered his home. He knew his presence was compromised when his leather boots peeled away from the sticky floor with an obnoxious crack. He could see the muscles twitching, visible even underneath the stained navy cover, leaning forward, with the blemished back in his view.
    They both slowly continued cleaning after a pregnant pause. They each analysed the other, orbiting the room in a silence broken only by the squelch underfoot and the crackle of torn packets. The smell of warming foods left out in the open maintained the atmosphere with its fragrance.
    Jeremy reached into a corner cupboard, taking out large buckets, sponges, and more bottles of cleaning fluid. He placed the bottles aside as he precariously filled the buckets from a concealed tap at the back of the cavity. The sound of rushing water echoed in the room, almost deafening its inhabitants with the disruptive noise. It stopped with a squeak of the handle, climaxing in a deep clang, as the full bucket was placed quickly on the floor.
    Without any other communication, Jeremy walked over to an increasingly tense Jacob. Jeremy placed a sponge in Jacob's hand and led him towards the bucket. Jeremy then took a sponge of his own and demonstrated his practised ministrations silently: wet the sponge, squirt cleaning fluid on a nearby surface, then wipe until there were no streaks and it shined. Jacob made no comment and followed every movement with unparalleled attention and compliance.
    Jacob's pursed lips and