When I get to my apartment building, I quickly unlock the front door and begin to walk up the stairs. Fumbling slightly with my keys, I try to collect myself before entering. The first thing I'm greeted by when I open the door is my roommate Scott sitting in the living room with his computer in his lap.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" I greet him, dropping my bag on the floor with a thump.

"How did it go?" he says, completely ignoring my comment. "We've all been worried."

Of course they have. Telling Alison about my meeting was a stupid idea. I knew it as soon as I opened my mouth yesterday. Alison is also one of my roommates along with Krystal and Scott. To be honest we're a lot of a mixed bag. None of us really knew each other beforehand and none of us goes to the same school. Scott studies biology. He's one of the reasons I'm thinking about changing to that. He's a giant nerd, but a sweet-heart. So innocent. Never complains about being the only guy in an apartment filled with girls. But I guess it helps a lot to have me. We've become close friends since we moved in together, mainly bounding over Dungeons & Dragons and other nerdy stuff. But it's nice to know that he always has my back and vise versa.

Alison is the one who found the apartment and posted the ad. While she's in college now, it seems like it's only a matter of time before she settles down back in the suburbs to become some sort of soccer mom. She would be absolutely perfect for the role. She even has her eye on this guy, Donnie or something. She can be a bit much from time to time, but she's okay. She's probably the only reason our apartment is always as clean as it is. I know for a fact that my own room is constantly one big mess. She really is the glue around here, keeping us all together. Got to respect that at least.

Krystal is in a class of her own. She's currently studying to become a manicurist, to absolutely no surprise to anyone who has ever seen her with her big bottle-blonde hair and her patterned protruding push-up bra and always perfect make-up. Sometimes I wonder where the hell she's from; if she has any idea what think when they see her. It would be such a shame to call her the sharpest tool in the shed. However, she does arrive at some extremely fascinating conclusions from time to time and she's always ready for a good gossip or to hit the town. You can say much about Krystal, but by God does she know how to have a good time! Live and let live! All this is what creates our never boring apartment. I've tried to nickname it 'the trip' but it's very clearly not a hit with Alison, who merely rolls her eyes in disdain. Everybody in my school more or less knows my apartment by the name now, but I'm pretty sure I'm the only one of us who calls it the trip. The fact that I'm the only one in the apartment who enjoys a fine joint every once in a while might also have something to do with it.

I pull off my shoes, trying to gain a bit time, before picking my bag back up and looking Scott in the eyes.

"It was okay. You know, the usual shit." I try to smile but end up avoiding his gaze.

"Please don't lie. I actually care about you, Cosima. You make me worried." Scott is nothing but honest and it breaks my heart a tiny bit. I look down, shuffling with my feet.

"It's the last warning before I'm kicked out." I reply, still not ready to look him in the eyes. He's silent for a small time, contemplating what to do with this new information. I don't blame him.

"Have you heard from her?" He says after a while, making my eyes shoot up in surprise.

"Who?" I ask, knowing exactly whom he's talking about.

"You know who." He replies, calling my bluff.

"No, I haven't." I say shortly, my voice laced with anger. I quickly walk over to my room, done with this conversation.

"Cosima, wait-" I hear Scott call after me, but I'm already smacking my door behind me.

I let my hand run over my hair, forcing my pressing tears back down. She's the last person in the world I want to think about. Trying to calm my slightly shaking hands, I reach for a joint, quickly lightening it up. It doesn't take long before I find myself sprawled out in my beanbag, loud music pumping in my ears and a 6B pencil running freely on the large paper in my hand.

I immediately recognized the subject. Big blonde curls in a bouncing mess. Red lips drawn in a laugh, perfect white teeth showing. Glistening hazel eyes filled only with love. As I shade in her skin, I can almost feel it come alive under my fingers, as if she was right there in front of me. All I want to do is reach out and touch. But the rough feeling of the paper is all that lies under my fingertips. I don't notice that I'm crying until I see a drop landing on the corner of my paper, the water spreading out and making a small bulge. I stare at it for a moment, looking at all the small lines standing out from the middle of the circle. Another bigger drop falls next to it. You can see the pigment from my mascara in the water. I close my eyes and lean my head back. Suddenly everything seems like it's spinning. God, I'm so baked. I'm being so dramatic. I laugh at myself in pity. The tears fall harder than before, like a small hot flood running down the side of my face. I laugh harder, only because I don't know what else to do. My head is positively spinning out of control and the harder the laugh and squeeze my eyes, the more I feel a rising nausea.

That's when I hear very soft knocking on the door and something blurry being said. I don't bother removing my headphones or answer. For some reason I just can't stop laughing. A small pause passes before the door opens up. Behind my tear-filled eyes, I see a blur of blonde hair entering.

"Delphine, is that you?" I shout over the music, before two manicured hands remove my headset, reminding me that I'm the only one hearing music.

"Oh, sweetie…" A small high-pitched voice says. "I'm so sorry…"

I don't bother looking up. I already knows who it is. Filled with disappointment my laughter finally stops and my mask breaks down. Without the music to distract me, I'm painfully aware of my crying and all it seems to do is urge it on and make it grow.

I faintly aware of me clinging to a warm body while Krystal is running her hand over my dreadlocks, trying to offer comfort to my sobbing body. It feels so nice to be buried against her stomach, floating in my beanbag, so I pull her closer to me, gripping her harder, desperate to feel her pressed against me, desperate to feel the comfort of a human body after having locked myself away for so long. Krystal leans down and kisses the top of my head, knowing that this is exactly what I need.

That's the last thing I remember before I close my eyes, dreams taking me away right away.

I'm walking on a flying rainbow amongst flowers and pink clouds. Two warm arms sneak around my waist and as I turn around I bury my face is soft blonde curls. She takes my hand in hers and leads me away towards the stars, where she whispers unknown French words in my ear while the taxis of the galaxies and long intertwining DNA-strings float by us as we stand, now naked together, kissing. I let a heavy breath fall from my lips, absolutely content.

A/N: Not the longest chapter and way darker than I planned, but hey, at least it's a fast update! Mildly inspired by my own life since I'm currently living in an apartment with two other girls and one guy, an apartment called The Dove's Nest (sounds better in Danish), since we have crazy many pigeons living behind the building. I wanted to leave you guys with a small drawing of Delphine, a couple of years old. I imagine Cosima would draw something like that when thinking of Delphine. Artwork is mine though ;) Anyways, please write and tell me what you think! (PS, the link wasn't included so I tried to write it in a fucked up way so you can see it)

www.

deviantart.

com/art/Evelyne-Brochu-Day-16-475288200?q=gallery%3AIzzy95%2F50497758&qo=56