Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 7

see the extent of the damage. The beautiful shining chrome workspaces were in a state of seemingly irreversible disarray. Cartons and contents dusted all the surfaces and floor; dented aluminium tins rolled sporadically from bare cupboards and shelves. Everything was out of its precise and ordained place.
    While moving with stealth, Jeremy had little idea what to do next. However, after seeing a naked leg stuck out past an island counter cupboard door, he stilled and smiled malevolently, letting outrage stew. The man was obviously trying to get at the secret compartment under the base of the counter top – the cooled compartment where he stored all his chocolate. He could not blame the guy: the chocolate was a luxury few could procure.
    Yes , he definitely was a "guy" if the innate strength that radiated from the pillar of muscle in the protruding foreleg was any indication; as well as the streaks of dirt tracked across the floor from mud-soiled feet as he single-mindedly went about his task – no one could have less pride in their self than a man impassioned could. Nowadays, vanity and pride were essential characteristics of people, so this presented a desperation that was seldom seen in the county under his council and occasional command.
    Nevertheless, Jeremy knew he had to save the chocolate – another order may take months. Not acceptable . His smile dissolved into its usual benign expression as he began the rescue of the chocolaty goodness that was essential for any serenity in his life.
    After slowly depositing the thorny roses on the greasy countertop, Jeremy cleared his throat, his hands loosely folded behind him while leaning forward into the counter. A bass thump rang as a head struck the aluminium cool drawer containing Jeremy's chocolate. It was a welcoming sound as it meant that the intruder had not found the way to open the compartment. A relieved smile formed on Jeremy's face while he chuckled under his breath. Such a release was acceptable as the expletives expressed from the other man covered any noise Jeremy could make. However, he still quickly schooled his smile out of courtesy for the first sentient creature Jeremy had met in the flesh for decades.
    The man tried to scramble out of the cabinet at the sudden noise. The man retracted his leg behind the cabinet door centring his mass before attempting to escape the cabinet's confines. The motions were far from smooth or practiced as Jeremy could hear the guttural strains and the crack of a kicked cereal packet sliding across the floor as the intruder panicked and struggled fruitlessly to get out of the cabinet. Jeremy breathlessly spoke what came to mind, relieved that the violence was contained in the hollowed cavity and not released at him as the man intended.
    "Thank you for not eating the chocolate. I might have been enraged enough to sentence a punishment otherwise." Jeremy could not help the chuckle he disguised as a self-depreciating cough escape as he noticed, through the gap below the cabinet door, the stranger's bare buttocks smack against the ground. The man levered and shuffled out of the cabinet – every never-ending inch of him. His sweating thighs clapped against the tiles like applause of a sober audience. As he manoeuvred into a better position, he still hid behind the cabinet door.
    "If you really needed something, you could have asked," Jeremy continued with perfect elocution and inflection. He surreptitiously reached into the nearest cupboard and brought out a baking tray – just in case. He then leant further forward over the countertop. "It would have saved all the contortionist effort and the indigestion or heart burn you are bound to have after raiding my stock like that."
    The stranger's efforts became frenzied as Jeremy had him cornered with his accurate insight; frustrated gasps resounded through the room as the stranger slowed and flustered. Jeremy waited, and his smile unconsciously grew, as deep breaths resounded in the otherwise silent room, while the stranger heaved and the movements ceased. He sighed in sympathy and waited. The ridge of the stranger's back arched over the pine cabinet door exposing a broad expanse of rippling muscles the colour of acorns and covered in perspiration, before it receded from view behind the door like a leviathan to the depths of an ocean.
    "Well, if the posh twit," boomed the rich, honey baritone of the stranger, his voice becoming increasingly malicious, "would deign to help