moments outside of time [7/???]

It's another cool Saturday morning; the wind is low, but the chill still seeps around the corners. Autumn has fallen again, and the herd of cattle in the main field is closing ranks, sharing heat.

"I won't be surprised if some of them stop coming out of the barn soon," you say, pausing at a section of the fence that Marta recently replaced.

Annika nods her agreement, signing, "I don't see some of the younger ones."

You smirk a little. "They're being lazy, like Bug."

Annika grins, her teeth flashing against the pink of her lips. "She wanted to sleep in?"

"She even said she'd be okay missing the field trip," you snort, rolling your eyes and returning your attention to the path. "Shall we?"

You both continue ambling down the path. Annika doesn't seem cold -she never does- but she walks a little closer than usual to share some heat.

It makes your insides flare in a way that has very little to do with her radiating warmth and everything to do with her arm brushing yours.

It's been this way for nearly a year. Nearly since the beginning, back when you were sure that Deerbourne was a cult. That everyone here was a victim to the kindly woman heading the compound.

The woman who is currently leading a field trip into the nearby town. Who is watching your child, teaching her.

It's a strange thing to think about how things have changed. How you've changed.

Annika nudges you. You glance at her hesitant smile, the worried furrow of her brow. "Okay?" she asks.

You nod, easing the expression you know overtook you. The deep thoughts are too much right now - you're supposed to be enjoying the walk, not relitigating your past."Yeah, sorry. Just thinking."

"You looked... sad?"

You wonder what to tell her. What parts are worth mentioning. You stop outside of the sty, watching the pigs as they root. The muddy bits are cold and closer to a solid than the animals prefer, but that doesn't stop them from enjoying themselves.

One -Molly, a big grey-blue sow- trots toward you, snuffling in greeting. You smile, bending down to reach through the fence, giving the sow a good scratch behind her ear. She leans into your hand like a dog might, with big, intelligent eyes on you.

She's Bug's favorite - has been since she first laid eyes on Molly the piglet last year. It's probably the main reason Annika chose Molly as a lifetime sow and not eventual meat.

"That's a good girl," you tell the pig, scratching and patting her thick neck. "Sorry that Bug isn't here today. She'll be jealous when I tell her you came to say hello."

The pig snorts and snuffles, wet nose pressing against your jacketed wrist. You grin, glancing up at Annika to ask her if there's a spare apple you can give the pig, but the words die in your throat.

Annika is watching you, not the swine. Her eyes are soft, her expression wistful, her mouth turned into a heart-melting smile you aren't sure you've seen before.

Your heart hammers as you look at her, as she holds your gaze and doesn't look away. Doesn't shy from you the way she used to.

She's breathtaking. Strong and tall and fiercely beautiful.

Your mouth is slightly open, still parted despite the words dying before they formed.

She doesn't look away, and she doesn't hide the affection. The unbridled happiness.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you breathe, the words slipping free.

She tilts her head, her smile growing a little mischievous. "Like what?"

It's stupid how easily the words slip out of you. You've healed back the hope for a long time - there was never a good moment. There was never a chance that felt right. But now...

"Like you could love me."

Annika's smile softens again, goes summer-warm, crinkles the skin around her eyes.

"Maybe because I love you."

You stand so abruptly that Molly squeals in protest. You barely hear it. You pull Annika to you, your mouth covering hers. It's lightning quick, how your arms wrap around her waist, and your lips press into hers. The way your heart hammers and your blood sings, desperate to feel her.

She melts against you, her hands cradling your face, her lips tilted in that sweet smile that feels like sunshine.

When you finally pull away, it's with a slow-dawning horror as you look down at one of the hands on her waist. "Oh, God," you groan. "I'm so sorry. Your jacket is covered in Molly snot."

Annika snorts, dragging you close, and shows you how little she cares.