Disclaimer: I do not own Orphan Black.


'Bonjour, meet me after church? x'

'I'll wait in front of it x'

Cosima is up early today. Cosima is one of those people who shift between the overly soft mattress and the layer of thin sheets until midnight and fall asleep just to wake up at 5:00 o'clock in the morning. After a few hours of being awake, she usually falls back asleep until school starts, or on weekends, until afternoon. This peculiar sleeping cycle has developed since her father's leaving next to a bunch of other strange issues, her isolating herself from everybody else and her persisting foul mood for instance. Ever since her parent's divorce, she has been plagued with pervading anhedonia, up until she has lost interest in everything, even in her own life. Could this be a depression? Yes, it could be. Did Cosima care? No, she did not care in the slightest. But now, now that everything has changed, she feels alive again. She wants to live again. She likes to be alive again. Her life was pushed down a valley by one single person action, and her life is being carried up a mountain by one single person. What a single person can do to your whole existence is quite scary. Cosima does not want to dwell upon these tragic memories of her past, for today she is up early and utterly smitten.
Cosima kicks her blankets away, hops out of bed, frolicking down the stairs some of which squeak when her light feet tap on them, and turns into the kitchen permeated by a pungent smell of burnt toast.

"Morning, mom."

"Morning, sweetie! Uhm... I kind of burnt the toast but I'm making a few pancakes," Cosima's mother says, her wavy, brown hair swaying back and forth while she flips the pancakes adeptly.

"Holy watershed, it's been ages since the last time you made pancakes!"

"Yes, holy watershed indeed. Where the heck did you even get that from? Syrup?"

"I don't even know and yes please!" Cosima grins at her mother just like when she was a child. Everything seems to be like before, everything is surrounded with carefreeness. Cosima is genuinely happy.

"Look at you, all chipper. That girl must have gotten to you hard," Natasha remarks, grinning and blatantly delighted to see her daughter's set of white teeth showing in an excited smile.

"Yeah, she's–" Cosima pauses to think which word to use before deciding on "awesome".

Her mother laughs, amused by her love-struck daughter, and asks, "What's her name?"

"Delphine." Cosima can never grow tired of uttering those two syllables.

"Delphine? The blonde one with a French accent?"

"You met her?"

"Didn't she drop by a few days ago?"

"Oh. You met her. What do you think of her?"

"She sure is pretty. And tall," Cosima's mother adds, scrunching her nose. "Are all French people that tall?"

"Mom, how am I supposed to know, I've never been to France!"

"That's something we should do though! I've always wanted to go to France, sipping French wine and eating French cheese, it's my childhood dream. But too bad I never got the chance to fulfil it," she says dreamily, her mind obviously an ocean away from where her body is.

"What time is it," Cosima queries, a mouthful of mashed pancake stowed in her cheek.

"Let me check. It's 10:38."

"What?! Holy watershed, I have to go!" Cosima stuffs the last piece of pancake into her already packed mouth, then runs up into the bathroom to get ready.

"What just happened?" Natasha asks nobody in particular before shrugging and getting on with her own breakfast.

In the meantime, Cosima, who already brushed her teeth and washed her face, stands in front of the mirror, still slightly disgusted by her image but not by far as much as just a couple of days ago, and tries to put on some eye-liner - the way she always does. Over the past months she has refined her eye-liner look which is also a thing she picked up since the family's tragedy.
Getting dressed as quickly as she can manage, Cosima speeds down the stairs, shouting, "I'm going out!" before shutting the door, and darting towards the church Delphine attends.
"Shit." Preaching ends at 10:45 o'clock and Cosima needs at least 20 minutes on foot to get there. She is going to be late.


Her father seems to be in a fairly good mood after preaching, thus Delphine grasps the chance and asks him innocently, "Papa, may I go out with a friend today?"

"Which friend?"

"Cosima," Delphine chirps.

"D'accord, but today you're going to be home on time, have I made myself clear?"

"Very." She knew it would work. Her father is always in a very delighted state of mind after church, because, he once said, God takes all his troubles away.

"Merci," Delphine mentions before disappearing among the horde of oddly dressed ladies with particularly large hats, their sole purpose to hide the elder's fading hairline.
Grey clouds veil the morning sky, announcing the gushing rainfall which is about to come, howling wind picks up occasional carrier bags and reddish leaves and whirls them in a miniature cyclone. Goose pimples erupt on Delphine's bare arms and shoulders. Orienting herself on the weather from the day before, Delphine chose to wear a sleeveless, drapey, white top which matches her pair of worn skinny jeans, but obviously it was a mistake.

"Where is she?" Delphine mutters, rubbing her arms to keep warm as she stretches her neck, back upright, in search for a little brunette. Her little brunette.

Suddenly, a pair of warm hands are positioned on her waist. Is it a kidnapper? A pervert? A rapist? Delphine shrieks and wheels around to come to face with a goofy smile.

"Cosima! You scared me!"

Cosima chuckles. "I'm sorry. And I'm also sorry that I'm kinda late. I'm kinda always late, so kinda always sorry."

Delphine can all but smile, her breathing quickening to her thrumming heartbeat, and places her gentle hand on Cosima's face as her eyes trace the brunette's jawline until they land on her pair of rosy but chapped lip. Reminding herself of her current situation when a chilly gust causes every single hair on her arm to stiffen, Delphine removes her hand reluctantly, her heated blood contrary to her cool body a relentless rush through her blood vessels.
Cosima notices Delphine's being cold and without a word, she takes off her cardigan to give it to Delphine, because that is what you do when the person you love is cold, right?
Accepting the offer whilst chewing on her bottom lip, the blonde puts on the warm, Cosima-styled, and Cosima-scented cardigan which she is sure of, she will not return to her all too soon.

"Thank you."

"No biggie," the shorter girl replies contentedly. "What are the plans for today?"

"There are no plans."

"Wait, what do you mean 'there are no plans'?"

"I haven't thought of anything, I just wanted to see you."

Cosima's face lights up. "You wanted to see me," she repeats in hushed tones, convincing herself that she is not dreaming.

"Well, how about we take a walk?" she suggests.

"Oui, that would be nice."


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