The edges were still rough and foreign to her. The brightly colored flesh contrasted harshly with her pale skin, embodying how raw everything still felt. Her fingertips lightly traced the abstract shape as she closed her eyes and tried to push the swarm of memories threatening to assault her. She took a steadying breath. The past few months were a haze of tortuous heartache and a convoluted conspiracy that seemed endless.
Everything still felt surreal. For all she knew she was still laying on the cold concrete of that garage having her life slowly seep out of her, her mind taking her to the crazy science they had been chasing for so long. The bullets sting was a searing white pain mixed with a warm metallic taste. Her recovery was swift and unnatural. At the time she couldn't say it was a welcome twist in her DYAD saga but soon the hope to one day be reunited with Cosima made the seemingly divine intervention worth it. Made all the pain and sacrifice worth it.
Then, as Delphine had appeared to Cosima in her darkest moments, so did Cosima to Delphine. That night had been another long excruciating day when a commotion outside drew the camps attention. In an almost ethereal glow Cosima was lit up by the campfire and delivered into her arms. She struggled to breathe as the woman's weight fell against her and consequently made her whole again.
She looked over at the sleeping form next to her and reached her hand out to reassure herself of the woman's presence. She was real. This was all real.
Delphine smiled to herself and sighed as tiredness made her limbs feel heavy. She reached over to the pile of paperwork. She liked to stay up like this and savor the time with Cosima, afraid if she closes her eyes it will have all disappeared by morning. In the quiet she could pretend that they were anywhere. They could be in San Francisco relaxing after a day in the sun, or back in London in a flat that they share together, but then she accidentally brushes the rough edges of her scar and it all comes rushing back.
She flips through another page when a tentative touch grabs her attention. Sleepy fingers absently trace the scar while green eyes curiously watch. Just when Delphine is about to protest and tug her shirt down to cover the harsh reminder, fingers are replaced with lips. She closes her eyes and arches into the delicate touch. Delphine understands the silent plea to come to bed and runs her fingers over the back of Cosima's neck, knowing that every jagged edge of the scar was worth it for the woman she loves to be back in her arms.
Thank you for reading! It's just something that popped into my head that I needed to write. I drew inspiration from the image of Cosima touching Delphine's scar for the first time. Cophine 3