A/N: and here it is, the last chapter. I don't know how you feel about this, but to me it's kind of a mix of emotions: one one hand I'm glad I've finally finished it (for a moment there it was looking like an impossible task), but on the other hand I'm also a bit sad, I've spent so much time with this story and characters and these "versions" of Cosima and Delphine that it's a little hard to say goodbye. Maybe that's why it took me so long to finish the last chapter, I really wanted to give you something nice, just a happy angst-free sorta one-shot.

Btw, thanks to CJ who helped me unblock a little and kept throwing peanuts when I took too long. Thanks to PeachBaby for the unwavering support. And a bazillion "ohhhh thank you thank you thank you" to my amazing beta, Cophine, who gave an invaluable contribution to this and make it sound like English.

Of course, I'd also like to thank all of you who've read this story, either since I've started (sorry for taking so long) or who just recently discovered it and decided to give it a chance.

"Cosima, get in here!" I call down the stairs, loud enough to reach the ground level of the narrow two story house.

Her dreadlocked head appears at the bottom of the stairs, raising a brow and looking up at me. "What?"

Without a word I beckon her with my index finger, not leaving my place in front of the door I just opened. She climbs the stairs, cleaning her hands on a paper towel, and I watch her expression as her mind tries to work out what I want with her. Still, when she stops next to me I aim my finger at the culprit of my annoyance.

"Oh... That..." she mumbles under her breath, her eyes raking the hardwood floor, still littered with boxes filled with books and knick-knacks and bags with our winter clothes.

"You promised to do it today," I remind her, my brows knitted slightly annoyed.

"I meant to, I really did, but..." Cosima starts to wave her hands and gives me an apologetic smile.

It's the only room in the house that's still a mess; what is supposed to be a guest room remains something that can only be described as a storage space, where we put everything that has no real place in the house. With me busy with the new job at the lab and Cosima juggling being a TA for Dr. Ford and her own classes for the undergraduates, we have little time to spare, which is the only logical explanation for this room to be looking like we've just moved in and not been living here for nearly two months.

"They're arriving in..." I look at my wristwatch, "two hours and this is still..."

"Two hours is plenty of time, Delphine," she interrupts my tirade before it gets out of hand.

I roll my eyes and shed my blazer, pulling up the selves of my gray shirt as I step inside the room and pull one of the bags onto the naked mattresses.

"You're gonna ruin your fancy suit," she comments in a playful tone.

"If it was up to you, we wouldn't do anything about this until we needed something," I say stubbornly.

Cosima gets inside and peeks into the bag. "Sounds good to me."

"Well, we're not leaving this room until everything is unpacked," I say with determination.

She groans, passing the palm of her hand over her face. "That sounds like a lot of work..."

"Yes, that's why we need to start now!" I show her no sympathy, because if I do, I know she'll see it as a way out.

"Damn, you're cold!" Cosima complains and to show her discontent she decides to flip over the bag, emptying the entire content on the bed, always looking at me with challenge in her eyes.

"Happy now?" I ask her, flatly.

"Sorta," she shrugs and opens a huge grin. "But mostly because I love to see you all worked up like that."

I narrow my eyes at her, but my act is short lived, soon I'm fighting a smile of my own, shaking my head a few times, observing as Cosima starts to work on the clothes she has spread on the bed.

We find a good rhythm, and in just an hour, we step back and inspect the fruits of our labor. The hard work of assembling the inexpensive furniture that takes the room was already done and all we have to do is unpack and put everything away.

"See... what'd I tell you? Plenty of time," Cosima says satisfied.

"Still, if you had done it earlier it would've been better," I counter, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Right, right..." she agrees, moving to stand in front of me, her hands going to my hips and she tugs gently. "But this way, we spent some quality time together."

"You know... when I think of quality time together that ends with me all sweaty this is not what I have in mind," I joke, chuckling as I feel her grasp tighten around my waist. "And now I have to shower while you start the grill," I continue, starting to free the top buttons of my shirt under Cosima's watchful gaze.

My shirt is not yet fully open when I feel Cosima's fingers fumbling with the clasp and zipper of my skirt, moving to my lower back, roaming over my skin. She has a huge grin, her eyes dancing over my body, while her hands tug at my shirt to pull it free before she slips them beneath the fabric. I lower my head and brush our lips softly but pull away almost immediately.

"Thanks for the help, mon amour," I whisper, placing a hand on her chest and push her away gently, walking in the direction of the bathroom.

"You are such a tease!" I hear her complain as I move down the hall.

"Go start the fire, Cosima!" I say, closing the door and hearing her mumble something before moving down the stairs.

I take a quick shower and go to our bedroom wrapped in a towel. It's really the only area of the house we are fully satisfied with. Everything else is temporary, practical, but not entirely what we want. When we moved in we had to make choices and the bedroom was Cosima's priority. A large, low bed made of sturdy, light wood, the embedded closet was a bonus when we started to look for a place, but we needed to change the doors to match the bed, vanity and two drawers cabinets. To my surprise, Cosima had chosen light colors to decorate the bedroom, which amplifies the natural lighting coming from the east facing windows, making the small room look much bigger than it actually is. In time we'll fix the old house to our liking, but there's no rush. Despite my reasonably well paying job, which I owe in part to Dr. Ford's exemplary letter of recommendation, and Cosima's academic career, we're still on a tight budget. Having a home close to both our jobs was a financial strain, but we decided it was the only way to go.

After graduation Olivia had moved in with Sylvia, and Cosima was spending most every night at my place anyway, so it was only logical for her to move in. But as we started to talk about it, it somehow developed into a long-term decision and if we were really going to do this, we were going to do it the right way. Without much planning, we started to look for a place; casually searching online, and when we found this house we had to move fast - affordable and so close to the center meant it wouldn't be on the market for long. Perhaps it was because we really didn't have a grand plan or maybe it was due to the quickness of the whole thing, but next thing we knew we were packing our bags and moving into a house that didn't even have electricity for two weeks on the top floor due to a problem in the fuse box. I don't regret, not even a little bit, with time we'll make this house our home.

I look out the bedroom window and see Cosima trying to get the flames on the grill controlled enough for cooking. Near her, our semi-adopted stray cat stretches while Cosima's leans down to rub his belly while she coos at him. It's an unattractive, black, yellow, and white spotted thing that had taken to her because one day she fed him and now he won't leave our backyard, knowing that it represents a steady source of food. I shake my head, a stubborn smile on my lips, leaving the window to get dressed.

On the old kitchen counter, I find the meat Cosima was seasoning when I arrived home, the deep tray covered with a cloth sitting next to the spicy sauce she's prepared. I grab the tray and bowl, and use my hip to open the kitchen door, and out into the yard. She immediately straightens her back, being caught once again tickling the cat behind his ears, she gives me a guilty look.

"If he's gonna stick around, you'd better give him a name," I say, laying the food on the ledge next to the grill.

She looks at me and smiles. "I know, I've been thinking about it."

"What about fleabag?" I suggest, looking at the cat that glares back at me with a suspicious stare as if understanding what I'm saying.

Cosima gasps, looking sternly at me before her eyes soften when they go to the animal. " She doesn't mean it."

I suppress a laugh, drawing close to her and bringing up my hand to the small spot of black soot on her cheek, just under her glasses, probably a smudge from when Cosima adjusted them with a dusty finger.

"Why don't you go have a shower?" I propose in a soft voice. "I'll start the food."

Cosima's smile widens and she nods slowly. "Okay," she whispers and goes to the tip of her toes.

I lean my head to kiss her gently, only one small peck but she finds it not enough, and with her hands pulling at the back of my neck she demands another, more satisfying, with her lips wrapping around my own and I grant it to her, like I always do.

I thought that by now it would've tempered, this thirst for her. We've been officially together for nearly ten months, known each other for almost two years, and every touch still feels as electrifying as the first. Every kiss still carries the same weight, it takes very little for her to have me enthusiastically seeking her. I wonder if it'll ever be any different, if our dynamic will change and instead of the constant frenzy that blindly guides us when we're together, we will find ourselves in a calmer, more lucid navigation. However, I suspect that even if it happens, part of us will always have this - it's our own private brand of balance.

"Cosima..." I say softly when we break for air, leaving my forehead against hers.

"I know, I know..." she groans, stealing another peck. "Get moving..."

I hum in agreement, feeling her slip out of my arms that had wrapped around her waist, shaking my head as I watch her walk inside with an exaggerated swing in her hips that tells me she knows of my eyes on her.

I return my attention to the grill, noticing coals glowing, and hearing the meat hisses when I place them on the iron grill to cook. The cat rubs himself against my legs, the smell of food causing him to put aside his suspicions towards me. With a knife a cut a small piece one of the ribs and offer it to him. He sniffles it for a long time before deciding that it's safe to eat.

"You are a sell out with no values," I tell him but he seems little interested in my judgmental opinion.

While the food cooks, I start to arrange the yard for our guests. The rectangular wooden table is already in the middle of the patio, instead of against one of the walls, but we'll need more than the four garden chairs and I get three more from the kitchen. The backyard isn't too big and part of it is taken by a planting area that so far, only has a lemon and a lime tree, too young to give us any fruits, and a small box with some cooking herbs gifted by Cosima's father. The remaining area is barren and we still don't know what to do with it, even though Cosima has suggested we use it for a marijuana plantation that would help us pay the mortgage.

I'm carrying plates outside when someone knocks on the door. Our doorbell isn't working either and we've not fixed it since we want to install a security system.

"Delphine, so good to see you," Cosima's father greets me with a warm hug and hands me a bottle of white wine.

"Jack, come in," I say, holding the door open. "Cosima should be down in a few."

"I won't hold my breath," he jokes as he follows me outside. "Why don't you open that bottle while we wait for her?"

I gather the glasses that were already on the kitchen table and take them outside, putting the corkscrew in my pocket. Jack is already flipping the meat, using the brush to generously spread the marinade over it - wherever he is no one is allowed to cook but him - and I open the bottle.

"You don't have to do that, Jack," I say, handing him a glass of wine, "you're a guest tonight."

"Thanks," he says and takes a small sip before setting down the glass. "And you know hell will freeze over before you can pull me out of here."

I laugh and let him to do his thing while I set the table. From time to time I watch him and notice that the damn cat is up to his old ways, not leaving Cosima's father side, who feeds him again.

"I didn't know you guys had a cat," he comments when he catches me looking.

"We don't," I tell him, "he's just an opportunist."

"Babe, I'm gonna need at least two fingers," Cosima says loudly from inside the house, and stops in her tracks when she spots her father. "To zip me up," she adds quickly, holding her dress up by the strap, an innocent smile on her lips. "Hi dad!"

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't understand that and save us a whole bunch of awkwardness," Jack doesn't turn and continues to flip the meat.

"Great!" Cosima nods.

I move around to reach her back and zip up her loose fitting, bright blue dress, squeezing the curve of her neck left exposed by her dreads pulled up in an elegant bun. I'm hardly done when there's a knock on the door and she walks away quickly, her low sandals clapping on the floor.

"I got it!" Cosima says already with her hand on the lock.

Behind me I hear her father chuckle, but I don't have time to be embarrassed as my former roommate's lively voice fills in all the silences, greeting Cosima loudly, followed by a much calmer Sylvia. Excitedly she holds my tightly and pushes a bottle to my chest.

"This needs ice," she says as I look at the bottle of champagne with a confused raised eyebrow. "To celebrate the official opening of the house," Olivia explains as if it's the most obvious thing ever just before she skips over to Cosima's father and slaps his shoulders with equal enthusiasm. "Mr. J, what's up?"

"I don't know how you can handle that," I shake my head at Sylvia as I lean in to lightly kiss each cheek.

"Neither do I," she jokes.

I laugh and return to the kitchen to quickly empty an ice bag into the closest thing we have to a small bucket, storing it in the fridge for later. Outside there's joyful laughter, but another knock draws me to the door and I cheerfully let Jen and her mother in, accepting two more bottles of wine.

"I wonder if everyone was afraid we didn't have enough alcohol," Cosima comments, entering the kitchen and welcoming her friend with a hug and Susan with a kiss on the cheek.

It's not so much a party as it is a gathering of friends. The conversation flows well with the steady flow of food that makes the way to the table, the low sun of the late summer afternoon encouraging wine glasses to be constantly refilled. We linger at the table after the food is long gone, and not even the slow breeze that rustles the leaves in our small backyard is enough to force us inside, although it's probably because we're pleasantly warm from the alcohol.

Some time after dinner, Cosima decides to lead a tour of the house, claiming that she's determined to be the "perfect hostess" and assuring me that she's already a bit tipsy.

"Thank you," Jack says softly from a chair across the table. There was no reason for him to join the others as he had helped us several times when we were setting the place up.

I raise my eyebrows at him, the small amount of alcohol in my system makes me less tense. "For?" I ask casually.

He gives me a small smile. "I don't think I've ever seen Cosima like this," he explains. "Not since..."

I smile myself and nod when he doesn't finish. "I think it goes both ways. I don't think I've ever been like this either… ever." I laugh, my voice completely relaxed. "She's an amazing person, although a bit stubborn at times." I'm not worried about measuring my words, something that under normal circumstances would've never happen.

"She can be difficult," he agrees and laughs as well. "But I have a feeling you know exactly how to deal with her."

Cosima's father and I are sharing a comfortable silence when they get back, bringing the bottle of champagne with them.

The night has settled and we have the weak patio lights on when they start to talk about leaving and slowly get up. Soon, only her father remains, helping us clean up everything before he too says it's time to go.

When Cosima returns after seeing her father out, she finds me stretched out on one of the chairs, the cat, stuffed with all the food that Cosima accidentally dropped, purring lazily on my lap while I absently pet him. Hearing her chuckle, I open my eyes and look up at her smiling expression. Without a word she bends to carefully pick up the fur ball curled on my lap and he gives her an indignant glare when she places him on the chair next to mine.

"Sorry little dude, this one is taken," she comments in a low voice, extending her hand to me to help me up.

With a grunt, I get to my feet and let her guide me inside. She locks the door and turns off the patio lights before we head upstairs. We take turns in the washroom, me first and when Cosima enters the bedroom, I'm already in the clothes I prefer to wear to bed, a tank top and loose boxers, sprawled on the bed with the covers pulled down.

"Well, that went well," she says, sitting on the bed with her back to me, capturing the now released dreadlocks in her hands and pushing them to the side. "We should make this a weekly thing."

I hum and sit up, dragging myself closer and unzip her dress. The straps fall gracefully down her shoulders, my hands helping them along, while Cosima's head comes to rest against my chest. "Maybe monthly," I suggest instead, my lips brushing along her exposed neck.

"Yeah, you seem pretty beat up," Cosima says, taking my hands in her own and skimming them along her torso until I'm cradling her breasts.

I inhale deeply and add more intent to my touch, hearing her groan in satisfaction as I slide even closer until our upper bodies are pressed to one another, sending a shiver along her spine.

"I have plenty of energy left," I counter, my low voice brushing against the shell of her ear, matching her daring.

She chuckles throatily, her hands on top of mine encouraging a more aggressive grasp, and I feel Cosima's thrust back. It's not like she's had much difficulty discovering what it takes to spark my interest. In fact, it was as if she knew it before I understood myself. But, with time, she has become a master in her seduction, knowing how to give me the illusion of control without actually forfeiting any of her own. If anything, our sexual interactions have become more of a constant search for balance: when one is more demanding she usually gets away with it, only to have the other one equally determined in the next opportunity.

I release her breasts and grasp her hips, firmly pushing her onto the bed and making room for myself between her legs, making it clear what I'm in the mood for today. Cosima gasps and gives me a wide smile, as she wraps both her thighs around my waist, pulling me down.

I smile wickedly at her, leaning my head to slowly kiss her, my lips dancing softly over hers, taking the plump flesh of her lower lip between my teeth and tugging it gently. My tongue slides into her mouth, grazing delicately against her own for a moment before I pull out. Cosima's legs tense around me, her waist already rocking upwards, brushing against me and making it increasingly difficult to move down her body. My mouth hovers over the pulsing divot on the side of her neck and her collarbone, then to her chest, rising and falling with deep breaths. My left hand grips the headboard while the other finds one of her legs, fingers smoothing their way up to slip under the skirt of her dress. Her body rises up, her petite form almost entirely supported by me, with her arms around my shoulders while I find the supple curve of her ass and take it fully in the palm of my hand for a meaningful squeeze that makes her squeal.

I smile to myself, but say nothing, only continue the journey my lips make, reaching a perky nipple and letting my tongue lightly swirl and flick a few times. She moans as her hands sink in my curls and tug me closer as her body rolls beneath mine and I give in to her request, pressing my mouth against her flesh, allowing my teeth to graze the hardened nub. Meanwhile my hand strokes down inside her thigh, stopping only when I cup her sex, feeling her warmth through the tight boxers she's fond of using whenever she's in a skirt. Her moan deepens, and her body twitches in anticipation.

Clumsy fingers pull at my top, trying to remove it and I move back to help, ending up on my knees between her legs. She has a devilish smirk on her lips, looking up at me before her eyes disengage from mine to sweep over my naked torso and then lower, where the waistband of my boxers has slid dangerously low with the motion of our coupling. Cosima tries to sit up, her hands already tugging at the fabric, but I make her lay back down on the bed with an impolite shove. She laughs but remains there and observes me with the same smile while I move down her body and quickly strip her bare, tossing her clothes somewhere on the floor.

To wipe the pretentious grin off her face, I suddenly lower myself, spread her legs, and press my tongue between the folds of her sex, letting it slide through its entire length, relishing the wetness.

"Fuck yeah!" She sighs enthusiastically, both her hands grasping the back of my head.

But I only meant to tease, and pull up and away, traveling up her compact form, feeling the needy rocking of her hips against my stomach. Cosima has a small frown when I brush my nose against hers and kiss her pouty lips softly.

"You're a fucking tease," she complains in a cracked voice.

"So you've said," I tell her, brushing our noses sweetly again.

"Thanks for proving me right," Cosima says in a stronger tone.

"Any time, mon amour," I say as I palm her breast, running my thumb roughly over her nipple.

Cosima groans and her eyes roll back in her head, but at the same time feeling her nails digging into my lower back, pulling me down as she grinds against me. Her wetness coats my thigh as my boxers slip lower, so much that when I grind harder, I can feel her completely against me. In the meantime, Cosima's hands slide under the fabric, pushing them lower, and palming both cheeks as she rolls under me, the wide grin proof of her intention to tempt me further. I hold my ground, allowing her to increase the pace while my lips go to hers, my mouth muffling her needy moans while letting out some of my own. When the rhythm becomes more intense I grip the headboard with both hands, and grind against her, thankful for Cosima's bed choice that allows me to continue with my mouth on her, this time biting the side of her neck, hearing her panting harshly against my ear.

She moves too fast for me to catch the insolent hand, and finds a place between my legs. The touch is not too intense but it's definitely enough to capture my attention and I pull back to narrow my eyes at her.

She gives me a shameless smirk. "Get on with it!" Cosima provokes in a impish way as she strokes me again, this time with a purpose that causes a guttural moan to escape my lips.

I grind tensely against her and deliver a bruising kiss to her lips and Cosima wastes little time in sliding two fingers inside me with a steady thrust, leaving them in, dancing in my depths while I swing my waist on top of her. Cosima's free hand grazes up my body, her touch tight enough to make me raise my hips and ground down to her fingers with a firm thrust and abandon her lips for a hungry intake of air and a hiss when her touch reaches my breast and she fondles it roughly.

The role reversal, while unexpected, is not a novelty. Cosima can be impatient. She enjoys the teasing but can crack too soon, which makes our sexual encounters quite unpredictable.

"You are so easy," I murmur to her between a clenched jaw, pulling her up with both my hands around her cheeks and she follows, sitting up and adjusting her position beneath me, her hand moving again to palm the swell of my ass.

The new angle allows her to push deeper, faster within me and she takes full advantage of it. Biting her lower lip, but still smirking, Cosima watches me with fire in her eyes, adding a third finger that I easily accommodate arching my torso, my hips gyrating to her quickening pace.

"I'm not the one being expertly fucked," she comments and her thumb glides smoothly over my clit to deliver her message more effectively.

I growl. Her touch erases the notion that I had any control and I let myself fall backwards on the bed. In an instant, Cosima is hovering over me, clumsily removing my boxers from my ankles with her free hand, and pulls my right leg up to wrap around her waist.

I can't deny that she works me like an expert. She knows my body like no one else. My harsh moans are swallowed by her lips as her tongue pushes inside my mouth, and I suck it eagerly before urging her lower, guiding her with a firm grasp in her dreads until she reaches my breast. She doesn't miss a beat. She moves her fingers, unrelentingly against me as her mouth covers my breast and her tongue swirls around my nipple, impressively slowly considering the pace her fingers carry.

I know Cosima can sense me getting closer. The hand holding my thigh grips harder, keeping me wide open for her clever fingers, and her own body leans against her hand to quicken the rhythm even more. She reaches my lips for a graceless but deep kiss and pulls back, taking deep, unsteady breaths against the curve of my neck, where I feel her teeth graze my skin amidst the moans I can't control any longer.

"Oh Dieu!" I pant sharply, feeling fingers thrust inside me, deliciously curling with a devilish intention while her thumb reverently slides along the small nub.

Both my legs are wrapped around her now and I rock uncontrollably against her, but she seems determined to carry me all the way to my end. Even as my fingernails sink into the soft flesh of her ass, Cosima continues to push against me, her moans, softer, gentler join my own loud ones. She doesn't stop until my shaky limbs drop tiredly to the bed and I all but cease to exist for a moment.

I open my eyes when I feel her body peeling off of mine, being confronted with Cosima on her knees between my legs, her back straight, contemplating the result of her actions with a self-satisfied smirk.

"And I'm easy..." she mocks me lightly with a chuckle.

I smile lazily, not even caring to respond to her pretentious assessment. Her own smile softens, her expression becomes incredibly sweet.

"Dude, I really, really love you," she says under her breath, her hand, once again gentle, travels softly over my skin.

I chuckle. "Well, that's good to hear, since we just bought a house together," I comment, pulling myself up and sliding my arms over her shoulders, toying with a few dreads.

"I know," she whispers and brushes her nose against mine. "Sometimes I still can't believe it."

I hum contently. "What were we thinking..." it's a rhetorical question, not really requiring an answer.

"That we needed a place to have loud sex without worrying about neighbors," she suggests with a laugh.

"Seems like a valid reason," I nod slowly, sliding an arm off her shoulder and placing a hand on her chest, prompting her to lay back. "Speaking of which," I continue, my voice dropping to a low tease while I move on top of her. "Let's see how loud I can make you scream."

Cosima laughs throatily, her hands pull my curls to the back of my head as I make a slow descent down her body. "Oh c'mon," she says with a low groan, "we both know you're the screamer."

Hearing this, I look at her, her gaze steady on me, and tug a nipple between my teeth. She gasps, her fingers in my hair tense but she chuckles again. I don't let it deter me and continue my journey as my left hand cradles her breast and the other seeks the warmth between her legs. Finding the welcome and tempting wetness, her body rolls smoothly as my fingers explore softly.

I slide down her body, my mouth nibbling on the way to my destination, and I look up at her again, finding her eyes on me, the hunger in her gaze encouraging me. Long gone are the days when I needed to constantly read her cues, and there's no hesitation as I part her legs wider to make room, the same way that Cosima no longer feels the need to constantly reassure me. Instead I feel the impatience in her touch, in the grip of her fingers in my hair.

"Delphine... stop teasing," she is almost whining.

I smile to myself, biting the inside of her thigh and her hips rise up. "Oh, I think you'll be screaming soon," I say, holding her steady.

The hand that's not trying to pull me down goes to my shoulder, fingers sinking into my flesh and I take pity on her. I run my tongue smoothly along her sex with care and she trembles slightly. Her entire body ripples in an elegant wave and she groans quietly, her hold relaxing and flexing with her want. She begins to rock against my touch with more purpose, riding my tongue in a steady pace, and I slide the strong muscle along the warm skin with pleasure, enjoying how her wetness coats the swollen flesh under the attention of my mouth. I have no intention of increasing the pace, despite the thrusting of her hips growing more needy and the sound of her moans starting to fill the bedroom.

Cosima squirms beneath me, becoming increasingly impatient and her legs try to clamp around my head, but I won't have it. With both my hands I spread them wider and slide my tongue inside her only to slip out and run it along the heated flesh and she quivers. To her credit, Cosima doesn't even lose the control of her voice when I sink two fingers into her, in a slow but deliberate movement. In fact, it's me who moans against her when I feel the warm walls and slick arousal wrap around my digits.

"Fuck..." Cosima hisses softly nonetheless, her hips rotating steadily and her hand on my head pushes me down to her.

In truth, Cosima's never been much of a screamer, her sounds are generally a sensual low pitch, the perfect combination to the graceful movement of her body. She groans and pants, whines weakly as I thrust my fingers against the smooth, warm walls, slick with the arousal that grows with every push of my hand. Her hips sway gently, riding my fingers and tongue as I lick along the delicious path of her want. But she is right, I'm the screamer. Even as her body trembles as I build her up to the limit, Cosima growls between a clenched jaw, her hand grips my locks, her hips swing up with voracious hunger and the nails dig on my upper arm. But she's not loud. The profanities which slip from her mouth are whispered in the same manner my name is. It's her movements that betray her, it's the legs that abandon my torso to plant her feet firmly on the bed and when I look up at her I see Cosima attempting to sit up. The hand that was holding my arm presses against the mattress behind her to give her some balance while her hips rise, bringing me up with her. I refuse to abandon her sex, my mouth is attached to her, as my free arm slides beneath to pull Cosima to me and encourage the thrusting hips, fingers vigorously push inside her, my tongue intent on its task.

"Delphine, fuck!" She whimpers, her body trembles and the walls of her sex squeeze my fingers tightly, slick arousal covers my hand.

She drops heavily to the bed, her body had completely given up on her and it's only then that I relent. I slide my fingers out and my tongue gives a parting stroke over the spent flesh, but my arms surround her thighs and I pull her to me, dragging a very tired, but giggling Cosima down the bed as I move up her body, resting my head on her torso and hearing the rapid thumping of her heart.

We remain like that for a while, until Cosima regains some dexterity and pulls me up, giving me a soft kiss before I adjust myself next to her, stretching my hand to find the light switch on the wall, next to the bed and settle with my arm around her waist. She plays with a few curls of my hair, pulling and releasing them in the dim moonlight coming from the slightly open curtains.

"You know what I've been thinking?" Her voice is the smallest whisper and I hum. "We should name the cat Darwin."

"Cosima..." I start.

"And we should take him to the vet," she continues, ignoring my weak protest.

"Why would you want to adopt a cat that clearly hates me and wants to claw my face out?" I complain half-heartedly.

"He doesn't hate you." She laughs, her hand tugging at my hip. "He just prefers me," Cosima reasons, "and who could blame him, really?"

"You are so humble, mon amour," I comment ironically, but give her a small peck on the tip of the nose.

Cosima wiggles in my arms, her leg moves on top of mine and pulls me even closer. "I know," she hums, her lips brushing along my collarbone, "it's why you love me."

My chest shakes with the force of my laugh. "I love you in spite of it," I correct her.

She drags her fingers lightly along my spine, the touch weirdly comforting and stimulating at the same time and I don't know to which I should pay homage. Cosima eyes me carefully, the quick intake of breath probably giving me away or maybe she just knows me that well.

"Not even you were immune to my irresistible charms," she says playfully, her fingers smoothing along my skin definitely becoming more exciting than calming.

"Hum… C'est vrai," I nod slowly. "You can be quite charming when you wish to, and that is why I love you."

"But not only that," she continues in a soothing voice, her finger round my hipbone and walk over the skin until she reaches between my legs, where they stop.

"No, not only that," I agree, instinctively my body seeks her touch.

"We will always have this," she says with such determination that leaves me no room to question her. "Even when I nag you beyond reason or when we're tired or when we don't have enough time or energy, we'll have each other." My heart swells and I pull her for a firm kiss, catching my breath when her touch pushes deeper. "Promise me you'll always remember it."

"Je te prometes," I whisper.

Cosima beams. From intense vulnerability she goes to excitedly bold, and both characteristics are what really makes her who she is, despite being the two polar opposites, it's what defines her the most. And that may be exactly why I love her and why I do believe that we'll always have this.

The End