Sheep [ONGOING]

Chapter 5: January 6

Still kneading the fatigue from her face, Sheep dragged her feet towards the living room's broadcast of atmospheric, tinny chatter, bleary-eyed.

Alive and alert, Charlotte turned to movement in her periphery before directing her focus back to her hand, almond acrylics freshly stripped of paint. She examined her work against the pillow of her knee, a bottle of polish sat precariously atop the suede arm of the couch.

Sheep yawned, "Where..."

"Work," Charlotte stated, milking lacquer from the brush. Sheep turned to observe the television. "Is Ace's room not doing it for you?"

Sheep tore her attention from the television. "Huh...?"

"You still seem tired," Charlotte explained, pulling her far leg up onto the couch to fold it beneath her. "Maybe I'm wrong."

In lieu of nurturing the conversation, the blinding cast of white light through sheer curtains demanded Sheep's attention. Charlotte's eyes trailed her movement as she shuffled along past the coffee table, Charlotte's wet nail brush lingering inches from her own hand.

"Careful," she nagged, repositioning herself to drag a second trail of pale pink veneer along the nail surface.

Hypnotized, Sheep peeled back the veil of polyester framing the sliding doors, soaking in the view of spotty forests and buildings capped in white through the newly-exposed aperture. The roll of clouds threw mottled beams of sunlight across the brilliant landscape, branding spots into the back of her eyelids.

"There's oatmeal in the kitchen," Charlotte brought to attention, fumbling with stiff fingers to screw the cap of her polish back in place. Blowing air across one hand, she dropped the bottle onto the table.

Dazzled by the sight beyond her reach, Sheep maintained her hold, tangled fingers pulling the fabric taught against the curtain rod.

"I'm sorry about running off yesterday," Charlotte rushed ahead of herself, sculpting careful words hesitantly even as they left her lips. Internalizing Sheep's aversion came down swiftly on the atmosphere, immediate. "It was nothing against you..."

Only the silence was loud enough to summon Sheep's attention, straightening up and turning to attention as if somehow caught nose-deep in the absence of real trouble.

Compulsion to clear the air outweighed Charlotte's hesitance. "I hope you don't think badly of me, but I wouldn't blame you if you did..."

"Mm-mm," Sheep's waves bristled against her arms with the shake of her head, a hum trapped on her tongue.

Charlotte deflated with a sigh. "Are you hungry?"

Foregoing an answer, Sheep's head swiveled towards the kitchen and back to Charlotte before she bounded off, crossing the boundary from carpet to tile. Charlotte worked her way off the couch, untangling her limbs as Sheep caught sight of a lidded pot.

"It's probably a little cold now," Charlotte confessed, circumventing the couch. "It's been a couple hours—"

Abandoning the bowl set out for her, Sheep equipped only a spoon and set to task. Without restraint, she shoveled from the mixture a gelatinous hunk of congealed oats and indulged with excessive excitement, swallowing it back unflinchingly and returning without the chance of a second thought.

"Sheep, you'd..." Charlotte nearly restrained herself before pressing on in earnest, "put it in a bowl, would you, please? It's no good cold."

Mush packed into one cheek, Sheep ogled her from yards away, stunned momentarily, before swallowing down a bite, lips curiously parted as she scanned the station for ideas short of instructions. With some eased, yielding movements, Sheep reached for a bowl and hooked it in one hand, arming her used metal spoon to ladle jellied curds into the bowl until the mound of oats nearly crested its edge.