They nestled into the tiered stairs of an apartment building, no actual benches nearby, and opened Delphine's box of chocolates.
As they sat talking, people watching, Delphine couldn't help but notice the brunette's easy laugh, her warmth, leaning against her every now and then when she made some cheeky remark about a passer-by.
Delphine pointed out a few of her favorite truffles, Cosima tried them in turn, savoring them as she quirked an eyebrow in surprise (white chocolate raspberry was a go, Cosima pronounced) or puckered her lips in distaste (ice-wine ganache, a fail, Cosima shaking her head). Somewhere during this truffle tasting, Cosima's free hand drifted between them to Delphine's, fingertips tracing an open palm, and lightly entwining their fingers.
Delphine was having one of the most carefree days in memory. Cosima was kind, thoughtful, cheeky, her sharp wit cutting at times, but she never meant to wound, apologizing immediately for even the slightest, perceived injury.
Delphine's curiosity about this singular woman was only growing.
"So, you have tried to, what's the word – skirt – my questions about you, Cosima. Where are you from? What is it you do, exactly?"
"Oh," Cosima blushed slightly, "um, I didn't mean to 'skirt'," hand up, "honest," a grin on her face. "I just finished my master's thesis on epigenetic influence on autoimmune disorders, triggering events, environmental factors. We mapped epigenetic profiles of genetically identical twins. And I am, slowly, really slowly on my way to a PhD in EvoDevo … um, I mean, evolutionary development. I just finished at Berkeley, and transferred to the University of Minnesota, also known as a very cold place in America..." She trailed off.
"Hmmm, a very scientific American" Delphine said with warmth, "That is fascinating work, and how lucky … and improbable maybe … that we sat next to each other on the train. I don't think I have ever met anyone outside of University that would know what epigenetic influence even means." She was quiet for a brief moment.
"Yeah, it's really cool science. Reaffirming to know that genetics isn't destiny, that even after Watson and Crick, there's more to discover, to understand about how we become who we are … unsettling too though that these dastardly little bastard diseases can be triggered by the slightest little nudge. Anyway."
"Oui, we are always … what is the saying … dancing on a razor's edge. Whether we perceive it or not." Delphine was measuring her companion, her expression had been far too pensive, very much unlike her gleeful expression when talking about her field on the train. "But I believe there is something else you are not saying, maybe, what are you doing in Europe?"
"Huh, wow, um, yeah. How did you sense that? Well, I am trying to figure some things out too. I love trying to answer questions the universe and our own lives throw at us. I thought biology, genetics, the nature-nurture debate, that intersection, was the answer. And maybe it is. But I found that other types of expression speak to me too … I just don't know if being in a lab is going to answer the questions I want answered. Am I making any sense at all?
Lightly, softly, Delphine said, "Oui, mon ami, yes you are."
"I mean, is the study of points on a curve going to explain to me why seahorses and ammonites, human fingers and humanity's greatest monuments conform to the same equation? How sometimes sadness can creep in to the happiest moments? Or the opposite? How the quality of light seems to change when you're looking at someone you love? How sound seems to defy space and time when you just need to hear that particular song? I want to answer these questions. And if I can't answer them myself, I want to capture the moment when others do."
The blonde looked at her then, confused, but taken in by the passionate, earnest expression on the brunette's face, the flash of her tattoo as her hands waved wildly. "Mmm, I don't think I understand?"
"I mean, don't you feel there are times when what you know empirically about the world falls woefully short of what you are seeing, what you are hearing, what you are living?"
"You mean, making room for the things science cannot explain?" Delphine asked, recalling their conversation just an hour before.
"Well, yes. Sometimes I wonder if I should stop trying to quantify those moments, and instead capture them, or maybe just, live them?" Cosima's hands fell out into a questioning expression, hands down by her knees as she sat.
Cosima moved then to open the large messenger bag she had brought with her, laden, now the blonde could see, with a camera body and lenses. "I've taken this little … sabbatical … to be an atrociously obvious American tourist and photograph some of Europe's great cities. Try to see if this is," waving to the gear, "is more than a hobby." Her lips turned down a bit as she closed the flap on her bag.
"I probably would have been trying to photograph every nook and cranny of La Sagrada Familia if I hadn't been distracted by such an enchanting guide …"
Delphine grinned, nibbled at her lip. "How have you found the Continent, Cosima? Have you … captured it?" Delphine said, with a broad sweep of her hand.
"I haven't been too impressed with myself, to be honest. This trip was abrupt really, was sort of spurred on by this dramatic break-up … and …" she stopped, pulling back from the personal. "Anyway, I think my best work is more, journalistic, capturing moments, telling stories, not the architecture, landscapes, or even urban environments I've been shooting. It all feels a bit sterile."
"But I'm sure they are beautiful. I imagine you have an artistic eye, and an artist's tendency to self-critique."
"Thank you. I don't think this is self-deprecation here. I think I have a very specific interest in photography – and a very limited scope of talent. Last summer, before I moved to Minnesota, I got involved with some people in San Francisco. They provide safe housing for homeless LGBT youth in the Castro … Something you said before about your grandmother – that pushing past fear and ignorance is a transgressive act. That's exactly what that was, is." She knew she was rambling, veering into the personal, she couldn't help herself, was convinced that the blonde might provide some insight.
"They are doing really powerful work, making people feel safe, and I just helped out with some photo promotion stuff, you know. But then I met some people who wanted to tell their story, and we had this small collaboration, and it became a profile of what life was like in that time of their lives, in that place. It just set me on to another way of thinking about how I could contribute. I really like the work of James Nachtwey. He's actually done some stuff for MSF I think."
Delphine was startled by the revelation, she wasn't sure why, something about the woman had already suggested an artistic side, a passion, but she had come to think of her as a fellow scientist.
"Actually, I do know him, or at least his profiles on TB and HIV. It is very shocking, yes, his work, but powerful. I can't imagine what it must be like to witness and capture those moments, I think I would feel helpless, unable to act, only document. I could not do it."
"Mmm, yeah, I can understand that. Especially because someone like you would have the tools needed to act in some meaningful way. But telling such a story can … I dunno … like, put a mirror up to the world, take stock of what is happening, what we are doing to each other."
"But, you know, I didn't really prepare for this trip, think through what I was trying to accomplish, I just needed to get away. I stayed with my sister, Sarah, for a few weeks in London, but then thought I'd do this solo journey thing, take advantage of a Eurail pass, try to see if I could enjoy doing something different than being the geek monkey."
"Geek … monkey?" Delphine's eyebrow quirked.
"Yeah, my brother and sister used to joke that I was the geek monkey. They were always sneaking out, wild. I was just always into science. They used to give me the hardest time for being at the top of the class. Good thing I know they love me, or I would've been pretty bitter about their shenanigans … anyway, geek monkey. Bastards' nickname for me."
"That is, adorable, I think. Geek monkey," she said slowly, familiarizing herself with the sound. "You do sort of move like a monkey, very animated."
"Heyyyy, that is not okay. No, no, you can't call me geek monkey," she was chuckling, her eyes crinkling.
Delphine laughed too, promised nothing, filing the nickname away.
"So you just got out of a relationship," Delphine ventured, abruptly, "dramatic, you said?"
"Oh, yeah, um, well, we had been dating through most of grad school, you know, she was in Gender & Women's Studies. We met in yoga. So cliche now that I think about it. Anyway, it didn't work out, she wanted something different than I did I think, to settle into an extension of our life from school, and I just felt like there was … more … to experience."
She, Delphine thought, of course she knew, or thought she did, by now, but this confirmed what she felt, underscored that she wasn't as sure about this connection between them as Cosima.
"I wanted her to come with me, to Minnesota, I had finally convinced her to move there a few months early, get to know the place before I started school again."
The blonde felt an oddly curious feeling of retroactive jealousy, wanting to know who this girl was.
Cosima was gesturing with her hand now, "We had this huge fight, and it ended in this sort of … yeah …" she struck her hand out abruptly, "dramatic …" she trailed off, still obviously affected. "I think probably we weren't the best for each other. But then I found myself in this new situation, alone."
Delphine's expressive face showed a mix of emotions, some Cosima couldn't place, but the blonde nodded, urging her to go on.
"Soooo, downtime with the sister, hitting the rails to find meaning and friendship in Europe, lame, but not lame. Though all I really got was a lot of musty rooms and lots of time for navel gazing."
It sounded crude, "Navel gazing?" Delphine was immediately nervous, wondering if this was some term for bedding her way through Europe, but she was also sure that didn't fit the brunette. She couldn't keep the stricken look from her face.
"Oh, oh, it means, um introspection, thinking about who you are, your place in the world. Sort of obnoxious, overly-anxious high-school shit. Yeah. Super attractive, right?"
She let out a sigh she didn't realize she was holding. "Hmm, that sounds like my past few weeks. Navel gazing. We are lucky we can do that, non?"
"Yeah," she nodded, "yeah, you're right. Hard to feel lucky when you feel sort of adrift, though, you know."
"C'est vrai," the blonde said softly, almost a whisper, squeezing the woman's fingers between hers.
"But, Delphine, this whole conversation brings something up. Maybe it doesn't matter. I'm, you know, I'm leaving tomorrow, but, like, are you okay with this," she gestured between them. "It feels sort of natural, but I also sense that you're a little … nervous maybe? I just don't want to … like push or make you uncomfortable or anything." And that was true, she didn't, but she also wanted something more than reassurance from the blonde, she wasn't sure what.
"Oh, like... I have never thought about bisexuality. I mean, for myself, you know? But I also know that sexuality, is a... is a spectrum." Delphine was stopping and starting, her hands falling out to her sides in a gesture of emphasis or question, Cosima couldn't tell. "But social biases they, they codify attraction. It's contrary to the biological facts... you know."
"That's … oddly, romantic," Cosima said.
"I just know that I have never met anyone like you. Today is … un coup de foudre … I don't know a way to say it in English. Like a thunderbolt." Delphine's eyes drifted to Cosima's lips, biting hard at her own.
Cosima leaned in this time, pushing Delphine against the edge of the stone doorway, pulling her hand away from Delphine's, and bringing both hands to the other woman's hips, squeezing lightly, pulling their bodies into closer contact, fingers threading against her lower back, tongue tracing the blonde's for entrance. Delphine's hands slowly moved up Cosima's arms, until she reached her dreads, looping her hands in between them and pulling Cosima closer to her. They were partially hidden by the doorway, by the trees hanging around them, but they were still exposed, still in the open.
After a long moment, Cosima pulled back.
"Oh, god, I'm sorry. I really couldn't stop."
"I really didn't want you to," she said simple, matter of fact. "Stop apologizing."
"Buenas noches, mis amigas." The women heard the entreating voice of the young Spaniard before they saw him, eyes focused as they were on the other woman. Both startled, wondering his motive.
"Oh, buenes noches," Cosima said, a bit cautious, trying to remember what neighborhood they were in, if this area of the city was friendly.
"Habla espanol? O' Ingles?"
"Ingles, por favor, amigo," she answered, looking at Delphine, "High school Spanish, terrible, actually," she said lightly as she positioned her body more fully in front of Delphine's, between her and the stranger.
"I have noticed you for some time. How long have you been together?"
The women exchanged a surprised look, Cosima overcompensating, "Ohhh, no, no, we're … just … um," looking to Delphine.
"Oui, ah, yes, a while now, why?" Cosima looked up startled and amused, almost immediately at ease, Delphine wasn't scared.
"I was wondering," he gestured to an easel, "we are losing the light, but I hoped I could paint you? You have the … uh … such an easy way. I think I can paint you well. If you would come to this tree? The light is hitting it just so."
Cosima quirked a brow, letting out a low sigh, she looked at Delphine smiling, "Why not?"
They sat beneath the tree, arms slung low around each other, momentarily looking at Rafael, they learned, and then back at each other. Every now and then they dipped their heads together until they touched. And that is how Rafael painted them, penciling in the outline and dripping blues and light pinks and purples around their silhouettes. Their heads were touching at the temples as they looked out toward him, but also down at their hands, entwined still, Cosima's cateye glasses prominent, her many bangles visible, Delphine's curls etched in pencil-perfect motion.