"A wonderful dream" art by ChatGPT about Owen and the Builder from "My Time at Sandrock", fanfic "The Therapeutic Effect" Chapter 2, by sundragon017
She was gradually drifting off. Too many impressions in one evening, and surprisingly good ones. Sitting with everyone else by the fire, imbued with a sense of unity, she also felt Owen's shoulder next to her. She could cuddle up to him, lift his heavy arm, duck under it, and hide under his warm side. No judgment, no misunderstanding, no shouting. No pain, no distance, no loneliness. Only warmth and a feeling of safety. Dangerous, this can be believed as something real. At some point she nestled closer to the bartender’s side and didn’t notice when she fell asleep.
From the wine and the warmth of the fire, Owen grew languid and relaxed. He watched with a smile as Lia pressed against him like some desert creature that had only just discovered affection, and when she fell asleep at his side, he gently stroked her hair. The neighbors watched them with quiet understanding. Cooper launched into a long monologue about how, in his youth, young men courted their chosen women, how they had to bend over backwards just to earn a fleeting glance or a favorable smile, but true persistence was rewarded with bonds that lasted a lifetime, unlike nowadays. His wife Mabel took his arm, and he obediently fell silent.
“I’ll probably take her home to sleep,” Owen said, carefully lifting the drowsy Lia into his arms, “and I’ll turn in myself. It’s been a long day.”
“Just don’t mix up the beds.”
The carpenter Ryan snickered and immediately got elbowed in the ribs by his wife.
In truth, the bartender wasn’t thinking about anything except laying the Builder in her bed and quietly going home to get some sleep himself. After all, now that everything was clear, there was no need to rush. Lia had gone through a lot that evening, and asking for anything more would have been strange. They would still have time to get to know each other better.
When he stepped into her house, he was struck by how sparse it was. Just one cramped room, almost entirely occupied by an expensive-looking double bed. Owen immediately recognized Arvio’s style He liked paying with furniture from his shop instead of money. Many agreed to such arrangements, and apparently Lia had been no exception. Apart from the bed, there was a small beanbag chair in one corner and a low dresser in another. A narrow door led to a cramped bathroom with a typical “summer” shower — a water tank mounted above with a shower head attached. No matter how he tried, Owen wouldn’t have been able to stand up straight there. Despite the tight space, the house didn’t feel stuffy or dirty. Probably because it was used only for sleeping, while everything else happened out in the spacious yard filled with machines and processors.
“If things go well, I’ll have to build us a better house,” Owen thought as he laid Lia down on the bed. She only mumbled something indistinct when he took off her outer clothes and immediately curled into a ball, tucking her hand under her head. The fitted shirt and short shorts revealed something he had never seen before: a thin body with painfully protruding collarbones and ribs, slender but sinewy arms hardened by constant work, small breasts but fairly wide hips and long, beautiful legs… and scars. Small pale marks on her wrists. Long, thin lines above her knees. It felt as if someone had stabbed him in the heart and then clenched it in a fist.
“No one should have to go through that pain, understand it so deeply, and try to save me from it.”
Owen clenched his fists and tried to calm himself. It didn’t work. He tried deep breathing, but suddenly the cramped room seemed even smaller, tighter. Feeling like he might suffocate, he decided to step outside, but as soon as the front door creaked, the Builder called out to him faintly:
“Yes, Lia?” The bartender noticed his voice betraying him with a tremor.
“Please don’t go. Stay with me.”
She reached out to him, barely opening her eyes. For a moment, the bartender hesitated, but then he took a deep breath of the cold night air, closed the door, and turned back.
“Of course. I’ll stay with you.”
Unfastening his coat and pulling off his colorful shirt, leaving his torso bare, he kicked off his boots and climbed onto the bed. It was wide, with a luxurious, soft mattress — sleeping on something like that was pure pleasure. Carefully pulling the blanket out from under Lia, he covered both of them. The Builder immediately found his body with her hands, pressed herself against him, and began to breathe softly in her sleep. He wrapped an arm around her, listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing and looking up at the slowly turning blades of the fan.
Of course. What did I expect? There will be difficulties, there will be pain. She warned me about that. And I understood what I was getting into. I just didn’t think it would be like this…
Anger kept boiling somewhere in his throat, scraping against his already aching heart. Those who had made her do this to herself… They didn’t deserve a single one of her tears. They would have to pay. Let them just show up at the station…
No. That will only make everything worse.
His thoughts spun in his head, refusing to let him fall asleep, but the bartender didn’t dare get up or even turn over, unwilling to disturb the peace of the person who had, in just one evening, opened up to him in such a deeply personal and painful way. Gradually, her steady breathing and the warmth of her body calmed him, and his thoughts drifted into a quieter current. So this was what Cooper had meant, nodding knowingly and saying that the best way to survive a cold desert night was to have a loved one at your side, while Owen had been trying to explain all the advantages of a heating pad. The feeling of someone beside him was not new to him, but Lia… With her, it was different. Soon, the bartender drifted off to sleep. He dreamed of golden dust in a quiet room and a dance without a single sound.
Full text here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83670971/chapters/220493151#workskin
