Hi, this is my first fanfic in years. Please be nice! That said, constructive criticism is welcome :)
_
The light shone through the parting in her curtains, dancing directly across the window floor, creeping up the side of the bed, and hitting Cosima Niehaus directly in the face. The light was warm, but sore on her eyes, and Cosima grumbled, not ready to be woken up. She rolled over, burying her face into the welcoming darkness of her pillow and let out a sigh. Why had she done this to herself?
It was fuzzy, but she definitely remembered copious amounts of alcohol from the previous night. The scratchy taste of cigarettes was still lurking in her mouth. Her stomach churned with the memory of the previous night, and gurgled precuriously at the thought of the several glasses of wine she had somehow managed to consume. Her arm nimbly stretched behind her head, hindered only slightly by her small mountain of dreadlocks, and attempted to pull her blanket, black, and purchased specificially due to it's light blocking capabilities, over her head. The blanket met with some resistance, so Cosima pulled harder.
"Oof" a small voice murmered from the other side of the bed. Cosima shot up, the realisation that another body was in her bed was enough to shock her awake. Next to her, long arm hanging gracefully off the side of the bed was another woman. Her face was obscured, but as the morning light shone on the woman's tangled mess of honey coloured curls, Cosima couldn't help but think the woman looked almost angelic, if a little too comfortable in her bed. The sheet pooled at the base of her back, and the smoothness of her skin, sprinkled with patches of freckles was left exposed. Cosima resisted the urge to trace her fingers on the delicate patterns.
Determinded to be hospitible, and somewhat unsure how to react in this kind of situation, Cosima climbed out of bed, grabbed her robe, threw it on, and began to tip toe as quietly as possible out of the room. She'd done this before, but she'd always been the one desperately hunting for her underwear in an unfamiliar room, climbing out the bathroom window, and at all costs, trying to avoid the walk of shame.
Flinching as she stepped on a loose plank of her wooden floor and almost losing her balance, she hastened her pace and found herself in the kitchen. Her dark eyes darted around the kitchen and quickly found what she was looking for. Settling on her "foxy grandpa" and "sexy scientist" mugs. She scolded herself for not buying more mature mugs, as her mother had suggested when they'd gone shopping for her new apartment.
She made her way to the cupboard, wrestling with its contents until emerging somewhat triumphantly with a cannister of coffee. Her mind wandered as she began to make the two coffees. It was obvious what had happened. Cosima could still feel the woman's touch.. everywhere. She sighed, and made her way back to the bedroom.
The cups made a dull thud as Cosima set them down on her bedside table, but this did not rouse her guest. Settling herself on the end of the bed, and pulling her robe tighter, feeling suddently self conscious Cosima hesitantly shifted her arm near the woman's leg.
"Hey... You should probably think about waking up. I made you a coffee. Are you more of a scientist, or grandpa?" she annouced with a grin.
The woman's head shot up, and she looked bewilderedly at Cosima. Even with a bad case of bed head, and make up smudged in rings around her eyes, the woman was stunning. Cosima internally high fived herself for bringing this girl home.
"I think we..." Cosima began, shrugging as she gestured towards the clothing scattered across her floor.
"No, I'm sorry. That is not possible. I do... I do not know how" the woman answered firmly.
"I think you did last night, dude" she paused "I mean that's what the evidence is suggesting. Plus, I can see my lipstick on your neck" Cosima argued.
"I do not think... I would not... not with a woman. It is not possible! I have a boyfriend!" The woman's eyes grew wider as she realised what had taken place.
"Well you're French, huh? Guess you're more fluent in the language of love than you thought"
"I'm sorry" the woman began, stopping briefly to find the right word, "I am not.. I am not gay. I must go. I am very sorry"
As she watched the flurry of curls dart out her front door, Cosima couldn't help but be a little sad. The woman was very beautiful, probably the most beautiful person Cosima had ever seen. And she had a killer accent. But the woman wasn't interested, she hadn't even bothered to give her name, and that last thing Cosima intended to do was spend another semester chasing a hopeless straight girl.
