"Are you really not going to talk to me?" Delphine asks, exasperation just at the edge of her voice.
She's back on the couch, the computer in her lap as she's doing god knows what. She has tried to continue our previous conversation, but for several minutes now, the only sounds in the house are the tapping of her fingertips on the laptop keyboard, the crackling of the firewood burning slowly and warming the small house, and the rustling of paper as I turn yet another page on Oskar's notebook.
I moved myself to the table, using the sparse light coming through the window to try to decipher at least some of the dead journalist's terrible handwriting. I roam over the sheets, searching for names that would capture my attention, but the foreign language and his penmanship makes the task almost impossible.
Another sheet is turned and I hear Delphine sigh deeply, but my determination to give her the cold shoulder doesn't waver, in fact, only grows. Who would've thought that as someone who's so adept in keeping her thoughts to herself, Delphine could be so appalled by receiving the same treatment.
"They've blocked the roads that go in and out of Warsaw," Delphine informs me despite my silence. "The Police are on high alert, and they've activated the terrorist response in the city."
"Everything is terrorism nowadays," I eventually comment, but don't look at her, my eyes remain on the papers in front of me.
"They still haven't released any description of the suspect," she continues. "Which means that, at least, they're probably not looking for you… yet."
"Why do you say yet?" I inquire, finally staring at her and noticing that her eyes are on the screen as she talks.
"Well… You met with him earlier, right?" Delphine says, stretching an arm over the headrest of the couch and facing me more directly. "Someone would've seen both of you together."
I press my lips and nod slowly. "I met him this morning at the paper," I say and it feels weird to think that it was only a few hours ago. "At least the receptionist there had a good look at me. And we also went to small coffeehouse not far from it."
"Did you give them your name?" She asks and seems genuinely concerned.
"Of course not!" I'm actually more than a little offended that she would think that. "Do you think I'm a fucking amateur?"
"I don't know." She shrugs. "You gave your real name at the hotel."
"And how do you know that?" I stare sternly at her, but she gives me no answer and remains impervious. "Right!" I breathe out. "Anyway, I had to give them my real name because your fiancé is tracking my every move." I don't offer that the only reason Daniel himself knows my real name is because Delphine is circulating in his orbit.
"You also didn't have to meet him in person," she insists. "You could've called and schedule a meeting in a more secluded location."
"Hey! I didn't know he was gonna get killed by the end of the day, did I?" I defend myself. "Besides, you didn't meet him; there was no way he would've given me a single thing if I hadn't meet him face-to-face."
"I didn't mean to question your methods," she raises her hands in a sign of concession.
"Yes, you did!" I disagree. "This might be hard for you to fathom, but I actually know what I'm doing."
"Do you?" Delphine shows me a hint of a smile. "How is the search for those names going?"
"Oh, shut up!" I reply annoyed, hating that she can see right through my boasting.
"What I mean, is that you're not exactly an easy face to forget," she explains in a much softer tone. "And it's not that difficult to give an accurate description of the way you look." She finishes pulling one of her locks of hair and looking at my dreadlocks.
Self-consciously I pass my hand through my head, squeezing the bun of dreads sitting on top of it. "Oh…" I whisper.
"I'm monitoring the international police channels - all active thanks to the terror alert," Delphine tells me, getting up from the couch and going to the fridge. "If your description comes up, I'll let you know." She produces a few eggs and vegetables out of it, setting them carefully on the countertop.
"Great!" I say bitterly. "I would ask you how you have access to that, but I suspect you wouldn't answer me anyway."
Delphine takes a deep breath and turns around to look at me with a slightly saddened expression. "Would you prefer I lied to you?" She asks. "Because that would be my answer: lies. I rather tell you nothing at all."
"Then how am I supposed to trust you, Delphine?" I raise my brow, surprised by her sudden honesty.
"Maybe you shouldn't," she responds in a flat tone, spinning around and cracking the eggs into a bowl. "Maybe you shouldn't trust anyone in that house."
"I don't!" I deadpan and get up, abandoning the monotonous task for now. "Are you gonna feed me?" I ask, looking at the bowl where she's whisking the eggs.
She turns her face to look me in the eyes and gives me a open smile. "I might," she jokes. "Get a knife for the drawer over there and slice some onions."
"Sure… Give me the unpleasant task, why don't you?" I complain, but do what she tells me.
It all feels incredibly domestic. We're not preparing anything fancy, just an omelette garnished with whatever we can find. The night falls outside as we turn on the lights and take the food to the table. Now and then, Delphine gets up, constantly checking to see if there are any more news about the search for Oskar's killer and every time she sits back in front of me, telling me the new developments, but always assuring me that nothing indicates I might be in deeper trouble.
"You think it's safe for me to return to my hotel?" I ask when we're clearing the table, taking my dish and glass to the kitchen sink.
"Roads are no longer blocked, but the police are still on high alert," she answers, turning on the tap. "I'd prefer you didn't go just yet, but, if you want, I'll take you. The car has Polish plates and it's not likely to attract attention."
I shake my head, leaning my lower back against the counter and watch her work.
"I can't stay the night," I say and it surprises me how disappointed that makes me feel.
"I understand," Delphine offers mechanically, her movements never stopping.
Her emotionless response strikes something inside me, although, by now, it shouldn't surprise me how detached she can sound. And it annoys me that the only reason I want to leave is my need to report back to Mrs. S about the developments and tell her that I'm alright, because she's probably worried sick with my radio silence. I left the cheap cellphone in my hotel room, charging on top of the nightstand. I'm perfectly aware that if it wasn't for this little issue, I wouldn't want to leave Delphine's company, no matter how cold she can be at times.
In this aspect nothing seems to have changed; I still irrationality crave her presence in my life. The calmness she exudes is, at the same time, the most captivating and infuriating trait of hers, capable of easing my mind and causing unexpected fury within me. Delphine doesn't even have to do much, just be there, like she is now, casually moving around, restoring order to the kitchen. I continue to observe her as she walks to the vanity and opens a drawer, turning around with a cigarette and a lighter in hand and a small smile on her lips.
"You don't happen to have any pot in there by any chance, do you?" I smirk and watch her putting on a long coat that she takes from the closet and warm slippers.
"Afraid not," Delphine chuckles. "But you're welcome to join me, if you want."
"I'll pass on the cancer stick, but I'll take the company," I reply, getting my own coat and catching up to her by the door.
I follow her outside, shiver a little and button my coat, as Delphine carefully closes the door so it doesn't lock and sits on the porch's narrow step and lights the cigarette.
"Why do you want to get back so bad anyway?" Delphine asks, blowing the smoke away from me before she turns her head my way when I sit next to her. "Wouldn't it be better for you to wait it out for a little while?"
I hesitate for a split second, consider using a play from her own book and leave her without an answer, since I obviously can't give her an honest one. But it appears to be against my nature, so, instead, I deflect in the worst possible way. "Do you want me to stay that bad?"
It's not meant to be a real question, but I don't think it's much of a joke either, especially when the tone of my voice is all wrong. I wanted to sound playful, nonchalant, not quite as serious as it became halfway through the sentence.
Delphine notices the waver of my voice, the absence of smile on my lips and narrows her eyes at me. "I want you to be safe," she says, not addressing my misstep, "and I think this is the perfect place for that."
I chuckle dryly, perhaps even somewhat bitterly. "How do you do that?"
Delphine's arm stops midair, bringing the cigarette to her lips and frowns in confusion. "Do what?"
"This!" I aim a hand at her, as if her expression is all it takes to understand it, my voice sounding too loud amidst the quietness of the night. "Be so… cool, undisturbed, emotionless, like you don't give a shit about anything!"
Delphine says nothing, she just crushes what's left of the cigarette on the side of the step and gets up. I'm speechless, stunned by the abruptness of her reaction, but soon I recover and walk inside as well, carried by a fury that's been brewing for too long.
"You're doing it again!" I accuse the moment I step inside, my eyes going immediately to Delphine, who's throwing the cigarette in the bin. "Do you have any idea how frustrating that is?!"
Delphine is clearly startled by my sudden outburst. Eyes wide, staring at me, the corner of her lower lip being nagged by her teeth. However, the deafening silence remains, her fists curled tightly next to her body, as if holding on to a stubbornness she refuses to release.
I shake my head, disappointment flares in me with an intensity that hurts. "I want you to take me back! Now!" I state with determination, finding strength to put in my voice from unknown places inside myself.
Before my brain has time to process what's happening, Delphine is on me. Her body smashes into mine with enough force to make me lose my balance briefly, the door behind me the only thing that keeps me from falling. Her lips are on mine, hurried and determined, muffling my surprised gasp. Her hands search my sides for something to grasp, her fingers sinking with such strength that I feel them curve over the thick fabric of my coat, but it only lasts a moment. Quickly, she steps back and before my heart has time to mourn the loss of her touch, deft hands are tugging at my coat and tossing it to the wooden floor. I struggle to catch up to her frenetic pace, my lips possessed again, and my fingers fumble with the buttons of her jacket until she comes to my aid, pulling away from me just enough to take it off herself.
Despite the struggle of my movements and the surprise, my body doesn't seem to be suffering from these problems. It searches for hers, it wants her near, craving every demanding touch, every bruising kiss. My leg raises to wrap around her thigh and as soon as it's within her reach, Delphine's hand grabs it and pulls it closer to her, pushing herself tighter against me.
I welcome her aggression, and encourage her by tangling both hands in golden curls to pull her to me. I nip her lower lip with my teeth before receiving Delphine's tongue in my mouth, the strong muscle sweeping against mine. Her right hand moves from my hip to the buckle of my belt and urgently releases it, the button and zipper of my pants follow close behind and she doesn't pause until her hand slips inside, her movements precise, the destination clear.
"Fuck!" I hiss when Delphine's fingers makes contact with my sex, pulling my mouth away from hers for a much needed breath.
Delphine moans softly, but doesn't stop. Her teeth graze the skin of my neck as the hand between my legs presses closer and slides down, causing a shiver to go down my spine. She senses it. I feel her chuckle against my skin and when she raises her eyes to mine, in the glowing pools of amber and green I see an unexpected hint of amusement. She rests her forehead against mine and wets her lips, her darkening stare pinned on me with an increasing predatory gaze.
"Maybe you should stay just a little bit longer," she proposes in a thick, low voice.
I smirk, one of my hands finds the hem of her shirt and slips underneath it. "Yeah, maybe you're right," I agree, my hand moving up over smooth but cold skin.
"Of course I am," Delphine retorts as her body presses against mine when I take a breast into the palm of my hand.
I hum, not bothering to call her on the smugness as my hips buck in search of a more satisfying contact. The corner of Delphine's lips curls up, but she concedes to my unspoken wish, and her fingers run over my heated flesh and I'm certain she can feel my enthusiasm through the fabric of my underwear. My body tenses with the stimulation, and my leg, still wrapped around hers, pulls her, the hand on her breast squeezes more firmly. She kisses me again, more deliberately this time. Soft, skillful lips move gently over mine, beckoning me to her and I, like a vessel lost in the dark of night, follow her, eagerly.
Her hand leaves my leg to softly cradle my neck, the pads of her fingers tenderly smooth over my cheek, but the digits of Delphine's other hand wreak havoc between my legs, subtly slipping under my panties to press against me. My hips press forward, answering her call and it feels like I'm melting against her touch. My body becomes loose, rippling at the rhythm of her movements, supported by the door at my back and the firm shape of Delphine's form slowly moving against me. Even the hand on the mound of her breast relaxes, pulling her bra up and finding an excited nipple that I roll under my thumb.
Our movements remain slow for a while, and, despite my desire to move this forward, I let her take control. I wonder if it's remnants of our past; if, unlike with previous partners, I allow her guidance because that's how it started, and fear that she'll retreat if I take the power away from her. And it's not like she doesn't know what she's doing, quite the opposite: Delphine's gestures are indicative that this is not new territory for her. It's obvious she's previously known women as lovers, she knows where and how to touch in order to play me like a fiddle. But there's something there, something that frighteningly resembles resentment, especially when it enters my mind that she has given others what she has denied me.
These are the thoughts inundating my mind when I unconsciously make the decision to take matters into my own hands. Breaking the slow pace, I find the bottom of her blouse and Delphine barely has time to pull out from my pants to raise her arms for me. Her bra falls from her shoulders quickly and I attach myself to her, my arms around her neck and tug her to my lips.
Even so, all this feels somewhat consented by her; Delphine surrendering control willingly, until she decides she won't. She grabs me by the back of my thighs and pulls me up, effortlessly carries me the short distance to the bed and, unceremoniously lets me fall.
Delphine's gaze doesn't leave me and there's a pleased smirk on her lips while she raises my left leg and flips a boot off of my foot, doing the exact same thing to the other. Her smile stretches wider when she moves up the bed, her eyes gleaming dangerously as she crawls over me until we're face-to-face and lowers her head to give me an incredibly soft kiss.
"I know what you're thinking," she whispers against my lips.
"Do you now?" I raise a brow, surprised by her words.
"Don't do that, Cosima." She sounds almost pleading. "Don't drag the past into this."
I feel a small sparkle of anger ignite in my chest. "Easy for you to say, you're not the one who…"
Delphine's lips silence me, lightly moving against mine, delicately wrapping around the plump flesh and tugging as her hand slips under my shirt and she palms my breast. "Do you really want to get into that now?" She asks in the most alluring voice.
I can't help but chuckle. "What a dirty trick," I complain half-heartedly, my body already responding to her touch.
"I know," Delphine's concedes, the smirk returns. "Is it working?" I feel her smile against the skin of my neck that she's peppering with kisses.
She doesn't wait for my answer, already knowing that it's physically impossible for me to deny her advances. She lifts my shirt, soft lips grazing slowly along my torso, and the heat from earlier and that never fully extinguished returns with more intensity. My eagerness betrays me, and my hands go to her head, encouraging her exploration while my body moves beneath her, completely surrendered to her attention.
Delphine straightens her back, moving out of my reach and bites her lower lip as she tugs my shirt away and takes the opportunity while my back is off the mattress to unclasp my bra. A hand on my shoulder pushes me down and her glowing eyes leave mine, going to my chest where the tip of her cool finger starts to create a pattern and she smiles to herself. I close my eyes, concentrating on the digit roaming my skin, trying to discern if there's any logic to her design and when I think I'm starting to make sense of it, my mind loses focus; the single finger is joined by others and is confidently slipping under the fabric of my underwear.
I gasp when they reach their destination and that's when Delphine's eyes return to mine, the most delicious smile on her pink lips. My hands go up, curled around her neck while my thumbs keep the locks from falling over her features when I pull her down. She lets me guide her, brushing her nose against mine softly before our mouths meet. The kiss remains fairly innocent for a few seconds, but the fingers between my legs are starting to move with a clearer intention. Still lightly, still slowly, but she manages to do everything right, even in the confined space she has to work. Gradually she works me to a moaning mess, the wetness between my legs increases with every skillful touch of the very tip of her fingers against the side of my clit. Her tongue enters my mouth, sweeping over mine in a delicate stroke and my mind reels, my body growing restless with her teasing. Suddenly I feel a frustrated groan against my lips and she pulls back.
The surprise fades quickly, as she sits up and I smile, observing her tug my slacks and panties down my legs. In a moment I'm catching up to her, raising myself and unbuttoning her cargo pants and start to pull before Delphine herself tugs them the rest of the way down and covers me with her body, wiggling herself between my legs and her right hand returns to where it belongs, while the left pulls my leg to wrap around her waist, putting me at her mercy.
"Better?" I ask in a teasing voice when her lips meet mine, my hands going back to her face.
Delphine narrows her eyes at me and smirks. "Much," she states thickly, two fingers sink into me without warning.
I moan deeply, my hips rising to receive her, and my left hand moves to grip her waist tightly, fingernails tightening on the voluptuous curve of her shape.
Delphine is not gentle with her thrusts. She presses into me at slow, deliberate pace, but puts her waist into it, reaching deep inside, and I can feel her fingers curving on their way out before she pushes them in again. My breath catches with every thrust, the hand on her hip clutches at the rhythm of her movements, until I suddenly grab her ass, hooking my thumb in the band of her panties and pulling them, when she finds what she was clearly looking for. In that moment she stops, only her fingers brush ever-so-slightly against the right spot and she pulls her head back to show me a tilted brow and a self-satisfied smirk.
I'm expecting her to take full advantage of her new discovery and brace myself for it. However, I'm surprised to receive a soft kiss against my lips, her mouth moves lower to my neck, always tender, but her fingers remain there, slowly tormenting me, stimulating just enough to cause a never ending hot shiver running down my spine.
"Delphine…" I moan her name, complaining about her strategy, but only getting a low hum in response from her lips currently wrapping around my nipple.
She grazes her teeth over it, her tongue swirls around the excited nub and I close my fist around her curls when the palm of her hand surges forward to press against my clit, the fingers inside me gaining momentum. Gradually, Delphine starts to move faster. Her thrusts become steadier, her body sliding against mine, and this time she doesn't stop. Instead she rises to her knees, and her left hand braces to hold me down when I make a move to follow her. When I don't comply, Delphine pins me to the bed, holding my wrist against the mattress, next to my head and hovers over me.
"Don't fight me on this, Cosima," she advises in a heavy whisper. Her once bright eyes darkened, keeping me down as much as the hand holding me, the fingers slotting themselves in the empty space between mine.
And to solidify her statement she pushes against me in a fast and firm thrust. I close the hand she's holding around hers, fingers grabbing on tightly, while the other curls around her waist and I pull her to me as she thrusts once again, watching her giving me a crooked smile.
Delphine ups the tempo, her waist rocks against me in a maddening pace and I take it all willingly, I yearn for it, for the next delicious curl of her fingers inside me, for the next exquisite press of her hand against my wet flesh. She groans deeply, her mouth covers mine and muffles my gasps, our joined hands closed around each other so tightly that I start to feel a hint of pain. Still, I don't want her to stop. Even as I feel my body heating up to the point of burning, even as breathing no longer comes easily, and with every thrust she pushes into me I feel like there's no coming back from this. Her mouth leaves mine to whisper something in French against my ear that I can't understand, but that I know it sounds awfully a lot like promises neither of us can keep. And yet, that's exactly what pushes me over the edge. Her fingers buried inside me, curving to roll over just the right spot, her hand covering my sex, rubbing my sensitive clit and I crumble around her, holding onto her fiercely, groaning my release into the warm air of the small house, while she continues to kiss my neck, sighing softly.
Silence returns to the house while I struggle to reconnect, only the sound of the logs burning in the fireplace cut into it. It isn't helping. I can deal with Delphine's early insatiable attention, but my mind struggles to deal with the aftermath and what it means, what awaits me after. Seemingly unaware of the turmoil in my head, Delphine's mouth is still spreading lazy kisses along my neck, breathing heavily and reaching my cheek, landing on my lips.
When I don't respond, she pushes herself up, her left hand finally releasing my right one to support herself. "You're thinking too much," she says in a low voice, brushing her nose against mine in a tender gesture that does nothing to help my situation.
"I don't know what to make of this," I admit, shaking my head slowly, feeling myself being swallowed by emotions and hating it. I don't want to ruin the moment, I wish I could push back my feelings and only allow them to resurface when I could deal with them, but I can't. If I were a more cynical person I would blame it on hormonal overload.
Delphine is quiet for a moment, her eyes are colored with an undeniable softness. "Not all is what it seems, Cosima." It's all she offers as if it was any comfort.
I'd laugh if my mood allowed me. "Like I don't know that…" I say in dark humor. "My problem is not what it seems; is what actually is that concerns me."
Her stare hardens and she pulls herself up until she's sitting on the edge of the bed. "You say that like you're not keeping things from me," Delphine says in a low, cold voice, not looking at me anymore. "I'm not the only one who's not being honest here."
With this, she opens the drawer of the nightstand and plucks a pair of black panties out of it. My eyes follow her as she stands and walks in the bathroom's direction.
"What are you doing?" I ask before she gets in.
"I'm taking you back to the city, like you asked. Get dressed!" She tells me, shutting the door behind herself.
I blink a few times, my eyes locked on the closed door before I bring a hand to my forehead. "Great job, Niehaus!" I whisper to myself.
I'm working my boots into my feet when Delphine reemerges, still in nothing but a flimsy pair of panties and I can't keep my eyes from following her. She ignores me, going to the small closet and opening its door, choosing gray wool trousers and a white dress shirt that she puts on quickly - back to the elegant style I'm growing accustomed way too quickly for my own good. The only difference this time is the small handgun she gets from the dresser drawer and the holster around her torso, which she conceals under the long coat.
"What's that for?" I ask astonished.
"I'm not taking any chances this time," she answers, buttoning her coat.
"If they wanted to kill me, they would've earlier," I say, rising to my feet and standing in front of her, preventing her from heading to the door.
She closes her eyes as she takes a deep breath. "You didn't have the briefcase earlier," she tells me, with her eyes going to the papers that I've placed on the couch when we were preparing the table to eat. "I wish you'd leave those here. Whatever is in there, it's obvious someone is willing to kill for it."
I clench my jaw and move to put everything back in the briefcase. "I know how to take care of myself!"
We exchange few words as we leave, the briefcase secure in my lap as I sit in the car, as she shakes her head in disappointment, watching me and turning the keys in the ignition. The silence in the car is tense, and Delphine barely looks at me, keeping her eyes on the dark road that the headlights of the old car barely manage to illuminate. Of all the things my mind has to focus on, ridiculously, all I can think is that I never actually managed to see her fully naked. Fuck my luck!