"Alright." Milo said simply, taking his meal upstairs. He didn't like the thought of baring a crowded super market but he could manage just this once. He left without further prompting, returning to his comfortable isolation upstairs and finish the rest of his project before retiring for the night.<br/><br/>And he dreamed. It wasn't a pleasant one. He felt small, huddled in a small space as he gasped for air. A closet. That's right- he hid in the closet but now everything hurt. Every burned- his throat his eyes, his heart. He couldn't see out of his left eye- was it gone? It was like liquid fire was moving through his veins and if he could breath he would be screaming but instead he had to cram his skinny body writhe in agony. And when the closet doors opened and he was greeted with a pair of burning red eyes his lungs sucked in all of the air they could.<br/><br/>Milo bolted awake, slick with sweat and body shaking. Too many memories. The stranger in his house was bringing up too many memories and it was all Milo could do not to scream. He tried to establish a sense of normalcy and banish the dream from his mind. A shower helped. He dried his hair, brushing back the damp strands into a neater pony-tail and fixing the shorter hair that framed his face. The scar on his face taunted him. He put in a special mouth guard Alex had given him, indistinguishable from human teeth and colored contacts, brown instead of red and got dressed. Nothing too fancy- just a black dress shirt with a red tie and matching slacks.<br/><br/>Making his way down stairs and to the kitchen he fixed his sleeves, rolling them neatly up his forearm. He looked the same- but more human. Mundane. No striking red eyes or fangs when he opened his mouth. A perfect impostor.