There seems to be a shortage of air outside of the restaurant, or maybe it's just that the sight of Delphine makes Cosima's throat constrict briefly. She's smiling in the softest, warmest way, a sharp contrast to the black and white elegance and crisp lines of her dress. Delphine likes black and white. Cosima's grown rather fond of it, even if she thinks the metaphor is heavy handed.
("It's not a metaphor, Cosima, you're being ridiculous."
"It certainly looks like it from here. Jesus, do you own anything in any shade of grey? Silver does not count."
"You're reading far too much into my clothing choices. I just like to match, and with black and white I always do. Besides. I have red and blue, too."
"Underwear don't count. Only I get to see them."
"Oh? You think?"
"Please. I know.")
"You look beautiful," Cosima tells her as she leans up to kiss her cheek lightly. Kissing her mouth would ruin the perfection of red lipstick, and it's too early in the evening for that.
"So do you, mon amour." Delphine runs her hand down Cosima's bare back to the low, low scoop of the dress resting at her waist. "Though I feel obliged to point out that you're wearing grey."
"Hey. Someone has to, and I knew it wouldn't be you." Delphine laughs, ducking her head a little, and Cosima takes the chance to slip away from her touch and open the door to the restaurant. "After you?"
Everything else can wait until morning. Tonight they have this.