Cresswell: The Lunar Chronicles

Chapter Three

Thorne flew in silence. The stillness of the air was peaceful and it had been way to long since he had flown without the slightest bit of worry as to if they were being followed, or if he had been spotted, or wary of Lunar ships. Glancing behind him, the side of his mouth turned up in a smile as his eyes settled on Cress; curled up and asleep in her chair. She was wearing her favorite blue dress and her hair was falling over one of her eyes.

Stifling a yawn, he set the controls for auto-pilot and stood up; stretching his arms above his head and grunting as he did so. Moving towards Cress, he gently shook her shoulder.

"Hey sleepyhead."

Cress took a deep breath, her eyes fluttering open. She smiled up at him.

"We've got a busy few weeks ahead of us; you'll probably want a half-way decent night's sleep."

Cress stayed frozen for a beat longer than was natural before she nodded. Thorne helped her up and together they made their way down a short flight of stairs and through the corridor that lead towards the sleeping quarters.

"What time will we land on Earth?" Cress asked softly, pausing almost awkwardly outside her room.

"2:45PM, is Darla's estimation."

Cress nodded, slowly at first and then faster. Thorne squeezed her shoulders, kissing the side of her head and nudging her towards her room. After she had slipped through, leaving her door slightly ajar, he jogged up the last two steps and opened the door to his cabin. It being the biggest room, he had offered it to Cress but she insisted she wouldn't need that much space and would fit better in the smaller cabin.

The one thing keeping him from sprawling face first onto the bed was the promise of a hot shower.

And his room was the only cabin with a private washroom.

Quickly soaping through his hair—which was in desperate need of a trim—and scrubbing the remaining dirt and sweat from his skin, he wrapped a towel around his waist and toppled onto his bed. The weeks of running and hiding and fighting seemed to suddenly catch up with him and he was exhausted.

Tugging on a pair of black sweats, Thorne dropped back onto the soft comforter, relishing in how good it felt to be sleeping in his bed. On his ship. Or, almost his ship.

With a satisfied smile, he immediately fell asleep only to abruptly wake up a few hours later. Lifting his head and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he listened and tried to pierce the silence. He could hear something... muffled. Someone was talking. Or mumbling. It sounded like Cress.

Frowning, Thorne pushed himself up and grabbed a sweatshirt from the end of his bed and quietly moved out into the corridor, nudging Cress's door open. She was loosely curled up in her bed, the blanket knotted up in one of her fists and tangled around her legs. She was asleep but clearly having a nightmare as she was clutching the blanket in her fist and gasping through sobs. Her face was wet with tears.

Thorne hurried to her side and shook her. Still asleep, she let out a low yelp and recoiled.

"Cress!"

Cress's eyes snapped open, her chest rapidly rising and falling as she swallowed big gulps of air. Her blue eyes, even in the dark, were round with fear.

Thorne gently pried the wadded blanket out of her fist and smoothed it over her. He threaded his hand through her fingers, rubbing the tenseness out of her muscles.

She swallowed, hiccupping and then licking her lips. Her hand closed around his and she finally nodded.

For several moments neither of them said anything. Thorne, concerned at her obvious distress and not knowing what the cause was or what he could do, pulled her to a sitting position and rubbed the back of her shoulder.