Dreaming of sheep on the moon

Autumn came and Lilah just invited him over to her cabin at the far end of Jackson one Friday. They were too old for the humidity and even older to sneak around behind bushes.

She left him to grab them some milk. They were scheduled for patrol the next day so no spiced cigarettes that night.

Her cabin was small, simple, and tidy. Most of the furniture was randomly assembled like made with whatever was left in town. The fabrics too, most of them a patchwork. But they were pleasantly put together. There was a bohemian coziness in the place that he didn't really expect. There were some salvaged books on the shelves, art, history, some fiction that's all he could tell. He sat on the sofa and noticed pieces of paper on the coffee table along with pencils. They were sketches of things around her place and the town, some fantastical stuff he couldn't make much sense of and some others. The others were violent and dark.

"They are not for pleasure," her voice came from the kitchen, a bit uncertain, probably a bit ashamed, too, "The creepy ones. I am not as much of a psycho as this town thinks I am."

"Apocalypse or not, people love to gossip," he replied casually.

She scoffed quietly.

"And to have opinions… To be fair when I first came, I used to have a lot of issues: blanking out, jumpy, insomnia, all this shit. It got better. Those help. The weed helps."

She sat next to him.

"Ellie likes to draw. She is good at it. Maybe you can teach her some stuff," he changed the subject.

"What to teach?" she frowned.

"I don't know. You are the one who went to school for this."

"I… I guess I could…" she breathed and he could tell she was surprised at his suggestion.

He put the papers back in their place when a very detailed drawing of the moon fell off.

"Ellie talks a lot about the moon, too. Said growing up behind walls the only other place to see and want to go was up…"

He stared at the picture in thought. It looked scientific but it was just a fictional illustration, embellished with detailed craters and curly decorative patterns. The lines looked a lot like wool.

"Sheep ranches on the moon…" he breathed to himself.

"Where did that come from?" she asked, not laughing at the absurdity of his words.

"Once Ellie asked me where I would go and what I would do if I could do anything anywhere. I said that I would live on a sheep ranch because sheep are quiet. She said she would be an astronaut and go to the moon. When she went to sleep that night, I told her to dream of sheep ranches on the moon."

"A sheep ranch on the moon," she murmured, the words soft, tasting the idea for the first time, "Sounds like a nice place. An escape far away."

"Yeah," he said quietly. "An escape. Somewhere quiet. Maybe that's why it stuck with me. I hadn't really thought of it like that. I don't even know what I was thinking when I came up with it…"

"You were mixing your dream with hers. Sometimes that's enough."

Joel observed the way her gaze lingered on the table like she was seeing something far away. He shifted slightly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"What about you?" he asked after a moment, "If you could go anywhere, do anything, what would it be?"

"I don't know. Dreams... they don't feel like mine to have anymore."

"Why not?" he asked quietly.

She gave a small shrug, her lips pressing together before she spoke again.

"The old dreams hurt, and any new ones… they feel like lies…"

The weight of her words settled heavy between them.

"Do you still dream?" she asked after a beat, her voice cautious.

He hesitated, then shook his head slowly.

"I'd take that sheep ranch on the moon, if it were an option…" he replied.

She made a puffing noise but she didn't smile.

At some point, they had drifted off on the sofa slumped against each other, because they woke, startled, their heads nearly bumped as Lilah shifted away. She was shaking slightly.

"Did I wake you?" she asked, her voice groggy and apologetic, avoiding his eyes, "I have nightmares."

"Me too and I mumble in my sleep. I think it was the other way around," Joel replied, rubbing his face.

She let out a tired noise.

"Guess we woke each other up." She sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Oh, man…"

As she moved to stand, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Just rest then," he murmured like it was the most casual thing to say.

Hesitant at first, she leaned back into him. Her head hovered before settling tentatively on his chest. They stayed like that for quite some time, the silence between them warm and comforting.

Their sleeping troubles or not, Joel liked holding someone for once. They have had sex a few times again after the first. Sometimes it was infused by the drug. Sometimes the sex was the drug itself. Always half-clothed and muffled. No hugs and kisses after. He had stopped being the huggy type a long time ago. He felt guilty. The end of the world was harder on women. He hated to think how much trauma she carried. He should have given her some comfort. Her warmth felt so good nested by him anyway.

It was getting late and Ellie might have realised his absence. When it was time to leave, he kissed her slowly, his hand lingering at the back of her neck. It wasn't rushed or desperate, but something quieter, something deeper.

They didn't go to that tree again. Her cabin became their meeting place. They would sit on the sofa, talking about Ellie, his carvings, the fixings around the town and his house. They would talk about the movie they played in the community centre. Lilah knew a lot about movies and even teased his taste. Other times he would ask about her fantastical drawings. She didn't have much to explain but her eyes shone every time. The fact that he was asking, that he was looking, listening was stirring something in her, something that drew him to her.

They would still sit in silence most of the time, his arm around her shoulders, her ear over his heart, their breathing syncing. Their time together wasn't just a comfort anymore. They saw each other's scars. The sex became slower, in a bed not on the ground. It was not muffled anymore but never loud. She was quiet, only heavy breaths, whimpers and his name coming from her lips. He wanted her to let go more, the way her body already did under his touch. She gave easily, but taking was different, hesitant, uncertain, as if she didn't know how to ask or if she could. He made sure he showed her, let her, coaxed her. And when the bliss came, they stayed wrapped in each other's arms a little longer every time.

As the weather was getting colder, something else was warming up in that remote cabin. They both felt it. Neither of them turned away.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please let me know of your thoughts.