Chapter Two: To Subdue the Stemmed and Expanding Predicament
Cautiously eyeing the bright, hot pink phone that sat across from Cosima's empty bedside table besides the giant, scarlet numbers flickering on and off stating it was 6:21 AM, Cosima quickly stashes it in her left, maroon, butt pocket. The far-off sound of thousands of water droplets harshly hitting against a ceramic surface abruptly stops—Victoria finished with her shower.
"Heyy, Cosima?" Victoria booms from the bathroom. "Where's your outlet? I need to get ready for class, today."
Swiftly gaining her way to the slightly tinged yellow door, Cosima gently grazed her left hand against the stained white doorframe. Looking at Victoria in light floral pink towel hanging from the bottom of her waist, Cosima slowly made her way up to Victoria's dark café brown, erected nipples, most likely cold. Her ravenous black hair dripped with steaming hot water. Grinning, Cosima pops her head into the bathroom and delicately grabs the thick, smoky black, plastic cord. Cosima, after redirecting her attention from Victoria's tired, bright baby blue eyes to her classy, dark navy blue walls, turned right and plugged the cord into the dim yellow outlet underneath a framed picture of Da Vinci's face split with Mona Lisa's.
Cosima, cocking an eyebrow, chuckles under her breath and playfully grins, "Not trying to be negative, but it's not like the socket's been ohm-mitted, Ms. Stark."
Cringing and narrowing her blue eyes, Victoria shakes her head and bluntly responses, "Cosima… Honey… No…"
Cosima, slowly taking her fingers off of the doorframe one by one, inches her way into the hot condensation of the bathroom, and smirks, "What? I thought they were…" Cosima breaks off to step closer to the woman towering over her. "Electrifying," she slowly draws out to finish, locking her gaze onto Victoria's angular, tan face.
Victoria abruptly laughs before taking hold of Cosima's cooler hands and softly leaving a single kiss on them as she stares at Cosima's hazel eyes, and gently pleads, "Please, stop."
An eruption of burning, nauseating guilt explodes in Cosima's stomach and begins to gradually shiver up her spine. Cosima hushes her skittish anxiety with a half-hearted smile and quietly accepts her plead after detangling her hands out of Victoria's.
Victoria, sliding her elongated hand to the back of Cosima's soft, wavy, dark umber hair, leans in closer and gently presses her damp forehead against Cosima's. Crouching down, Victoria tenderly brushes against Cosima's soft, rose pink lips.
Cosima abruptly tugs her head away from Victoria's delicate grasp, and subtly clears her throat. She forcefully plants a complacent smile to mask her small coughs. Lifting her head up to directly look into the clear, oceanic blue iris', Cosima carefully removes herself from the bodily heat beaming off of Victoria.
Clearing her throat, Cosima's coyly says, "School's going to start soon." Backing away from Victoria and towards the flimsy, slightly yellow door, Cosima smirks and says, "Can't be late, Professor."
Victoria, after reaching out her long arms to grab Cosima by the waist, and longingly whines, "Just five more minutes, Cos. Five more, I swear."
Pushing off Victoria's hands by her muscular forearms, Cosima excuses herself and says, "I've actually got to make a call—a really important call."
Victoria grumpily accepts Cosima's excuse, and returns her attention back on her drenched, thick, curly hair after sternly injecting, "Okay, but it better not to be buying anymore weed, Cos, or I swear to god."
"Relax, Tori," Cosima shouts over Victoria's blowdryer.
Once closing her apartment door, Cosima carefully whips out the plastic phone and begins to twiddle with the blazing pink rubbery case in between her hands. Diving into the contacts, her hazel eyes glosses over the short list of contacts programmed in until reaching "C". She waits for the ring.
"C'mon, pick up, pick up" Cosima impatiently mumbles to herself.
After three rings, an attentive and calming voice answers, "Hello?"
"Hey Beth," she smiles, "It's Cosima."
"Heyy," Beth coolly replies. "What's up, Niehaus?"
Placing the phone to her right ear, and raising her shoulder, Cosima answers, "Yeah, not much. Just, like, when're you free?"
"I'm not looking for anyone right now, Cosima," Beth jokingly counters.
Forcing a breath of air shoot out of her nose, Cosima lets out a relaxed smile and sarcastically answers, "Yeah, totally. Especially with you hooking up with—what's her name—Alison Hemlicks?"
"Hendrix, Niehaus. Hen-drix," Beth harshly corrects.
"I'm not hearing a 'no'," Cosima smugly smirks.
"Nothing's happened, Niehaus," Beth strongly assures Cosima.
Carelessly laughing, Cosima immediately responds, "Yet." Switching the phone to her left ear, she again asks, "But, really. When're you free? I need to talk to you."
"I'm free for most of the day, Cosima," Beth begins. "Not like there's a hell of a lot to do in Minnesota. Just tell me when, alright?"
"Totally," Cosima agrees, letting a long, awkward pause escape and fill the void between them. "Beth, thanks," she sincerely adds.
"No problem, Niehaus. Just text me, alright?"
"Will do. See you later."
Beth hung up.
Cosima reenters the room to see Victoria, in a flowing, white blouse, opened in the back, with a single-colored, blush pink, skinny jeans, and black, with a tiny, polished golden chain across the front, 4-inch wedges, and wildly, frizzy hair confidently striding out of the bathroom and towards her. Cosima clears her dry throat.
"Hey, Professor Stark," Cosima grins as Victoria outstretches her arms and angelically places her hands on Cosima's shoulders.
"Is something wrong, Cos?" she sensitively asks, sliding her hands up and down and cocking a single eyebrow while furrowing the other, and subtly tilting her innocent head to the right. "Like, did I do something wrong?"
"Yeah—no. I, mean," Cosima awkwardly begins. "Everything's fine," she finishes, weakly smiling and looking up at the woman who taught psychology her freshman year. Pulling away from Victoria's grip, Cosima turned and moved her hands in an odd, small up and down direction. "Just school, y'know?" she finishes, inhaling an unreal amount of air into her lungs as she returns to her bed.
Victoria, discretely walking up behind Cosima, she wrapped her arms around Cosima's waist and left a tenderly kiss on the side of her smooth neck before placing her head down on her shoulder, and soothingly whispers, "You know you could tell me if something's bothering you, Cos."
"Yeah, I know," Cosima reluctantly replies, adjusting and turning her head to see the woman staring directly back at her with trembling, bright grey-blue eyes. Leaving a small peck on Victoria's soft, mint-flavored lip-balmed lips, Cosima breathes, "I know," as guilt bubbles up from her stomach and began to take hold of her heart—mercilessly squeezing it.
Placing the small drop of the water-like blood sheathed in the small, thin piece of fragile glass underneath the ancient, dirty white microscope, Cosima began to tune in and focus onto the oval, scrunched, red blood cells being slowly devoured by unknown black and blue specs attaching themselves on. Her stomach sank.
"Hey, Scott," she hollers, keeping her eyes on the blood sample. "Did you—uhh," she begins to ask, slowly lifting her heard from the microscope and replacing her thick, heavy plastic goggles with her large, cat-eye, jet black glasses, "Get the analysis from the sample of 422n31?"
Cosima, fixating her attention to the blood's documentation and her recording, begins to extensively analyze the rapid progression of the unknown infestation. Tucking in her lips, she grazes her long, index finger on the pictures and what she had wrote.
CASE ONE OBSERVATION:
Month 1:
Thinner and smaller than usual blood cells
Lack of red blood cells
A little less red (hemoglobin)
Mostly left is serum
Mis-shapened.
Wavy-ish edges
Poikilocytosis
Varying structures
Lack of fluidity
Little white blood cells
Plaque (?)
CASE TWO OBVSERATION:
Month 3:
Thin
More plaque
Still wavy
Poikilocytosis
Less red blood cells
Have begun sticking together
` CASE THREE:
Mnth 4:
Extremely thin
Like water
Pleomorphic Microbes
Fuck.
Long coils of blood cells
Shit shit shit shit.
Leaning back in her ash grey, thin plastic, swivel chair and tracing her hands along her freezing forehead to the back of her thick, sepia brown, tightly-tied hair, Cosima breathes out and closes her tired eyes.
Clearing her parched throat, Cosima's curiously hollers again, "Scott?"
She reopens her green-blue eyes and leans back up in her less-than-comfortable chair. Casually surveying the cramped, sickly-sterile white lab room, she locked her eyes onto the back of her nerdy, gigantic lab assistant making conversation with a stranger. Overhearing their conversation, if it could be considered that, Cosima heard Scott's nervously blabber about Dungeons & Dragons. Cosima hopelessly sighs and glides to her towering, caramel haired assistant.
Cosima, placing her hand and leaning on Scott's meaty shoulder, looks at the stranger's uncomfortable-ness masqueraded behind a large, false smile. The odd sense familiarity in the woman's shoulder-length, dirty blond curls and her smile, masking the uneasiness of Scott's incessant chatting, and her large, milky-brown eyes made Cosima's stomach flutter and oddly drawn to her.
"He's a virgin," Cosima smugly smirks, "In case you couldn't tell." Eyeing the unknown person's frozen face slowly eases up and catching a small, subtle snippet of her laughter underneath her breath, Cosima straightens her posture. Scott's shoulder sinks and relaxes underneath Cosima's hand. Taking her hand off of Scott, she outstretches her hand and greets, "Hey, I'm Cosima."
"Nice to meet you, Cosima," the blonde politely greets in a thinly veiled French accent—having the tip of her tongue tap her two front teeth as she talked. She heartily shakes Cosima's warm hand and sweetly smiles, "I'm Delphine."
The sense of nostalgia blows and slams into Cosima stomach. Hearing the hardly audible statements of defeat and her helpless screams of anguish, Cosima swallowed hard. Her throat felt raw and sore as her tongue felt dry and stiff. Restraining herself from whimpering, she lets out a honeyed smile.
"I'm—uh," Scott coyly says motioning that his exit with his thumbs sticking out of his fists, "I'm gonna go and—um—yeah…"
"Okay, Scottie," Cosima attentively agrees, redirecting her attention and cocking her left eyebrow to Scott. "Just don't forget about 422n31."
"Right," Scott blandly says, moving his both of his index finger up and down while his hand was still clenched to signify his understanding as he awkwardly stands up and huddles away with his shoulders hunched over.
Returning her attention to Delphine, Cosima casually apologizes, "I'm sorry about that. I heard him go on and on about Dungeons & Dragons." Empathetically smiling, Cosima continues, "He's a real good kid—just...nervous."
Delphine, waving her hands back and forth, replies, "Oh no, no no. He was fine."
"So, are you, like, new around here?" Cosima curiously asks, moving her hands to take up the space around her. Feeling the tension in her chest finally release as Cosima breathes out, she graciously smiles, "I just haven't seen you around here before."
Delphine smiles. Her dimples caved, as well as Cosima's stomach, and her eyes lit up. Cosima's guilt crawls back and began settling into her legs and arms, stretching across her chest to reach another each arm. She ignored it.
Delphine slowly nods her head and answers, "I just—uh—came in." Licking her pale, powder pink lips, she abruptly injects, "From France." Ruffling through her shining, blonde hair, Delphine tilts her head and carefully raises both of her eyebrows.
"Well, enchanté and welcome to Minnesota," Cosima beams smugly. "What, uh," Cosima begins to ask, ignoring the vibrations in her back pocket and moving her hands in small circles, "What're you majoring in?"
"Biomedical engineering," Delphine responds with an unmoving smile. Closing her eyes, Delphine faintly shakes her head as her smile diminishes and apologizes, "I'm sorry, but, um… I need to continue to, uh… continue my research."
Cosima, carefully tilting her head to the right and scratching in between the thick hairs on her head, cheerfully, despite how the chilling ice formed up in her stomach began seeping its way into her thighs and hands, says, "Yeah, totally! Good, um, good luck 'n all."
Cosima's chest tightened-feeling as if a constrictor was wrapping its long, smooth body around her lungs and mercilessly squeezing. She runs her fingers along the flat, icy cold, metal surface of the lab table.
"Thank you," Delphine draws out, leisurely nodding her head. "Maybe—uh—I could… Um…" Biting her lower lip and closing her eyes, she blatantly blurts out, "Maybe I could see you again?"
Cool relief ran down Cosima's body, letting her graciously exhale and lift her hand off of the glimmering, silver table. Another insistent vibration shook her left ass cheek. Cosima, after tucking her lips in, smiles-slightly squinting her eyes—and agrees.
"Yeah, uh, totally," she chirps. "Well, um, au revoir."
Chucking under her breath, Delphine spits back out, "Au revoir, Co-si-ma."
Returning back to her original lab area, Cosima whips out the hyper pink, plastic phone. The abraded, bright screen turns on as Cosima hit the green, call button.
You have 3 messages.
After unlocking the phone, Cosima carefully read the three texts.
am i okay? do you have cure?
am i need to send you more blood?
are you okay? please reply cosima.
Sitting back down in her uncomfortable, plastic, swivel chair, Cosima cleared her throat as her stomach plummeted. She meticulously punched into the phone's small, pepper grey keyboard:
Still working on it, Katja. Everything's under control.