#at night laying down in the dark 200k words

[scarletgray]

they should invent eyesight that doesn't go bad from reading fanfiction on your phone 24/7

[cami-chats]

Year Of Fanfic 2020

684,938 words

WHAT A YEAR. Wow. 684,938 words published on AO3!!! (I’d say about 50k of that wasn’t actually written this year and is instead from WIP’s that started from previous years, but that still leaves me with a solid 600k words. which. geez.) 

Last year was at 400k, and my goal for this year was to stay around that area, not PASS IT BY 200K. I’m not expecting this to happen again, so I hope everyone was happy with this lmao. 

This year had fics for: Avatar (2009), Beauty Pop (manga), Charmed (TV 1998), Check Please! (webcomic), Harry Potter, Julie And The Phantoms, Jurassic World, Lady Bloodfight, Marvel, Newsies (1992), Shadowhunters, That ‘70′s Show, The Umbrella Academy, The Witcher, and Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle. 

Full list of fics under the cut (with word count and link), if anyone wants to take a peek at the bullshit I’ve been up to >.< 

Avatar (2009)

Blue Sun (3711 words) Sharing (10164 words) You Can't Share Everything (1257 words)

Beauty Pop

The Golden Pair (5094 words)

Charmed

Crossed (2678 words) A Charmed Past (2586 words) Forget Me Not (1120 words)

Check Please!

Gotta be damned because I want it all (30613 words) Take My Hand (15245 words) Still Family (3575 words) Too Old (1964 words) Red Ferrari (1024 words) Pickup After-Party (680 words)

Harry Potter

The Potter's, Both Old And New (86071 words) WIP! Harry's Parents (1567 words) I'm his, but he's not mine. (3890 words) Baby Steps (3816 words) If he kisses you, it just means he's touch starved (1694 words) I Never Did Like Roses (2659 words) When did you last check? (1499 words) Shocked Reactions (1351 words) Past Mistakes (1907 words) Seduction was never so difficult (2581 words) Wartime Sacrifices (9846 words) Hi Hungry, I'm Dad (2890 words) In the closet, but not like that (1592 words) A Game Changing Kiss (1026 words) Oblivious was never so cute (1874 words) Logically (743 words) Not Who I Remember (1108 words) Boys And Marriages (9768 words) Mais bien sûr (901 words) Back To You (4456 words) Anything For You (1371 words) Just An Inch (740 words) Love At Night (1524 words) Puppy Eyes (1137 words) Grown (1255 words) I Knew You First (1686 words) Birthday Wish (2016 words) Caller ID: Daddy (604 words) Family Time (673 words) My Best Friend (2961 words) Everything About You (2074 words) Every Kiss (3136 words) Out Of Commission (1691 words) For The Crowd (928 words) It's Just Sex (2055 words) Thicker And Better (1890 words) My Son (1583 words) A Little Bit Of Failure (772 words) Just Go With It (1495 words) Lay Your Love Down Soft And Sweet (5480 words) Metal Decoration (1329 words) Innocent? (1577 words) Jail Break (1530 words) One Turn To Another (2445 words) Return To Me, My Love (5010 words) Warmth (819 words) Bring Your Kid To Work Day (760 words) A Little Vivian Ward (5977 words) How To Lie (8975 words) Since You Been Gone (2542 words) Unromantic Confession (983 words) Your Hands (423 words) The Best Hugs (1509 words) Waiting Around (2014 words) Through The Gates Of Hell, I'm By Your Side (1006 words) Perfect Black Flowers (1318 words) Going For A Ride (748 words) Kitchen Appliances (1180 words) Property Of James (550 words) Meet-Cute (Again) (1300 words) Have you heard the news that you're dead? (3994 words) Wedding Jitters (18673 words) Seeing Double (Sort Of) (1887 words) Dauntless (1022 words) Excitement (1941 words) Past Demons (1183 words) Not Actually Brothers (5972 words) Absorb (2235 words) On My Mind (1255 words) Lights On (659 words) Pregnancy Scare (852 words) Silver And Gold (3381 words) Periodical Pains (277 words) In Your Dreams, Whatever They Be (1698 words) Regrets (2374 words) Like Somebody I Used To Know (3546 words) Girlfriend (2252 words) Your Husband Looks Like Your Ex-Girlfriend (1680 words) Skirt The Subject (859 words) The Model Boyfriend (841 words) Too Sad (1955 words) Flowery Tattoo (1025 words) Wake Up Kisses (549 words) What Do You Know Of Love? (2515 words) My Bodyguard, My Love (2911 words) The Bachelor (1501 words) Closing Shift (939 words) Always Negotiating (413 words) Keep Holding On (1009 words) Christmas Eve (609 words) Top Of The World (1956 words) The Wishing Stone (2015 words) What I Like About You (29812 words)

Julie And The Phantoms

Baby Bi, Bi, Bi (1157 words) New Sound (659 words)

Jurassic World

First Dinosaur (482 words)

Lady Bloodfight

Ladies Bloodfight (529 words) This Isn't Dinner (348 words) You Need Motivation (401 words)

Marvel

About A Little Boy That Lived In A Blue World (14621 words) WIP! The Kidnapper's Heart (15880 words) WIP! Handle With... (1314 words) In Body, In Soul (4964 words) The Value Of Bucky (8744 words) By Scent (11880 words) Some Self Love (1956 words) Have We? (2244 words) Sexy Thoughts (1475 words) All These Kidnappings And Only You Quoted Star Wars (5366 words) The Best Season And Friend (8060 words) Party Of Misunderstandings (1187 words) Molten Red And Gold (4988 words) More Color, More Pride (616 words) Fantasia (1018 words) All that's best of dark and bright (4148 words) Get What You Paid For (698 words) The Sound Of Your Heart (701 words) Your Halo (4146 words) Squad Of Two (586 words) Lady Natasha's Consort (967 words) You'll Do. (2368 words) My Blood Red Heart (7567 words) Meeting Jean Grey (1650 words) Work Six Times As Hard (3311 words) Only In Papers (707 words) Anywhere You Go, Let Me Go Too (19778 words) French Braid (447 words) The Man Who Has Everything (759 words) Front Page (831 words) Swirlin' On You Babe (1241 words) Lace And Silk (572 words) A Rose For You, My Dear (10369 words) Just One Look (532 words) An Airforce Pilot, A Pararescuer, And A Nuclear Deterrent Share A Bed (5085 words) Watching Is Loving (606 words) Damaged Wings (2931 words) Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend (14793 words) Your Dad Sucks (828 words) A Birthday Party To Remember (890 words) Childhood Sweethearts (1001 words) CEO's New Assistant (1183 words) Another Captain (1802 words) A Space Romance (3110 words) The Farm (1598 words) Black Lightning (2118 words) One Hell Of A Reunion (2556 words) All We Are Is Dust In The Wind (1432 words) Knives, Arrows, And Repulsors (640 words) Cooking Class (1439 words) The Wrong Uniform (865 words) Parent Of Two (374 words) Wrong Package (1522 words) Young Man (973 words) Grumpy (279 words) College Flame (2054 words) Feel It (382 words) Got Keys? (524 words) Domino Effect (360 words) Two Super Soldier Dumbasses (454 words) The Best Bathtub (1649 words) Play Pretend (402 words) Whose Soap? (557 words) Ugly Sobs (534 words) Blue Is Everywhere I See (667 words) Stranger Things (1259 words) Racing And Winning (422 words) Sleepy Meditation (535 words) Apollo's Gift (2293 words) Toys And Dolls (645 words) Black Holes (478 words) I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood (2002 words) The Winter Ghost (822 words) The Bodyguards (4559 words) An Element (534 words) Perfect Recall (2147 words) Household of Videos (433 words) Masquerade (1297 words) Luck Be A Lady (440 words) A Little Wasp (322 words) A Hero In Need Of Saving (303 words)

Newsies

Gotta Get Brooklyn (1695 words) Brooklyn Means Queer (481 words)

Shadowhunters

Not Bossy, Just The Boss (3861 words) Mundane Boyfriend (4884 words) You Talk Too Much (4960 words) The Person You Most Care About (1585 words) Out Tonight (2046 words)

That ‘70′s Show

We Said Nine (285 words)

The Umbrella Academy

The Book (2058 words) Who Do I Have To Kill For Coffee (803 words) All These Cracks Till I Break (4636 words)

The Witcher

The World On A Platter (11046 words) Bare Strings Of Breathlessness (1353 words) Parties Like This (704 words) Fiancé, I Guess? (1061 words) Being In Love (2310 words) I was highest by your warmth (441 words) Shrike To Snow (4160 words) Waking Comfortably (567 words) Absolve (529 words) Not A Stray (1280 words) Nightly Conversations (2990 words) Backwards Relationship (1689 words) Angelic Action Versus Human Nature (1351 words)

Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle

Every Day (1190 words) The Master And Priest Of Suwa (3801 words)

[divinecuriosity]

Could u do a little Fjord ficlit based on lyrics from the song nightmares & flare guns by Seb Adams 👀

This song is so good! And wow I got inspired for this, I hope it makes a bit of coherent sense! (will go up on my ao3 soon, once I finish my 60th fic/200k word celebratory fic!)

Fjord stops sleeping in his room. The first night back in Xhorhas he spends pacing the house, stopping periodically by Yasha’s door. Waiting, listening, cursing himself and walking away, but his feet always carry him back. He winds up finally throwing himself down in a living room chair and digging his nails into the fabric and watches the stairs and upper landing close, convinced he sees shifting in the shadows. 

“Fjord?” There's a voice from across the room, and Fjord jumps, feeling the fabric of the chair tear a bit under his fingertips. 

“Uh, hey, Caleb.” He squints through the dark. Caleb leans on his doorway, Frumpkin curling past his feet. “How long have you been there?” Fjord asks timidly. Caleb chuckles, uncrossing his arms. 

“A minute or two. What has you spooked?” Caleb pushes off the doorway, following his cat into the room. Fjord stiffens as Frumpkin redirects at a low whistle from Caleb, but allows the cat to hop up into his lap. It’s more of a reflex to sneeze now, Caleb’s been working on making Frumpkin tolerable to Fjord’s allergies. Fjord buries a hand in the nape of the cat’s neck and smiles as he immediately sets to purring and flexing his claws in Fjord’s lap. 

“Uh, nothing. Just can’t sleep.” Fjord shrugs, looking back up to see Caleb wave a hand, lighting his fingertips aflame and scanning a bookshelf by their light. “What about you?” 

“It’s morning, Fjord,” Caleb says as an answer. Fjord looks to the window. 

“Right. No sun.” Fjord groans and rubs his eyes with the hand not petting Frumpkin. 

“You should tell Caduceus if you can’t sleep. He probably has a tea or something.” Caleb says softly. Fjord nods, stifling the urge to yawn. Eventually, Caleb retreats back to his room, book in hand, but Frumpkin stays purring in Fjord’s lap. Even if he wanted to get up now, he stays planted until the girls, Yasha included, even if she’s trailing behind a little, come hurtling down the stairs with screams of requests for breakfast. Frumpkin screeches and leaves claw marks in Fjord’s pants in his effort to get away, and Fjord hops to his feet with a wince. He’ll talk to Caduceus after breakfast, he tells himself. When there’s time. 

The second night is as much of the same, and he doesn’t even get halfway to taking Caduceus’s offer of tea up before Jester gets news of their new task for Essek needing immediate attention and they’re all packing bags again. Fjord pretends his grogginess is due to the midnight hour and goes along, shaking his head at Caleb’s pointed glare before they head off into the night. 

The third night he does sleep, on cold damp earth a mile underground, beaten and bruised, and he dreams. He dreams first of an eye, watching in still waters, but it’s not Uka’toa’s, it’s Yasha’s, first green, then lavender, then flashing between them so fast he covers his face with his hands, but no matter how hard he tries to turn away and shield himself the eyes stay, burned into the backs of his eyelids. He must cry out, because Jester shakes him awake, and forces water down his throat, which feels cracked and dry. He takes the next watch and doesn’t wake Beau for her shift, sitting hunched on a rock and watching the slight shifting of their firelight at the edges of Caleb’s magic hut. 

They surface mid-day, blinking in the sudden light, lost in the wastes of Xhorhas but successful and alive. Caleb’s out of spells to really take them home, but while Caduceus and Jester sit down to try and commune a clue about their location, Fjord lays on his back, feeling the sun beat down on his face. A distant part of his mind wonders if the sunlight will keep him awake. He’s asleep before he can manage to open his mouth to ask. 

Fjord dreams he’s treading water. He keeps feeling something in the depths, slimy skin snaking around his feet, but when he kicks out or dives under he sees nothing but dark waters. He can tell he’s losing strength, that the water that should be cold is warm to his goose-bumped skin, a deadly omen. He blinks and one moment where he saw the reflection of the moon, there is a boat. Sleek black wood, two oars, nothing built for open water, but it’s something. He kicks out for it, raises a hand to try and latch on and is met with a hand in return. Someone far stronger than him hauls him up, and he lies panting on the worn wood, blinking salt out of his eyes to see his savior. 

He scrambles back when he sees Yasha, dark wings outstretched, sword in hand. She’s still reaching down to him, and her expression...gives him pause. She’s crying, but she looks happy, happier than he’s seen her in a long time. She looks a lot like she looked over their breakfast before they left the house when Jester had made a face with berries on her pancake, and Beau had switched one of the eyes with a blueberry to make it Yasha’s face, and they had all laughed. Fjord takes a steadying breath and pulls himself up onto the bench of the small boat. Yasha drops her hand, stares at him for a long moment, and sits as well. 

Fjord doesn’t remember what they talk about, but he remembers that she talks, over the crash of waves and the creak of oars as she rows them- somewhere, he doesn’t know. He wakes up to a dark sky, and his friends sat around a fire a yard off, their bags and bedrolls arranged in a protective circle around him. Fjord rolls on his side and watches as Caleb says something that makes Nott laugh, and turn to Caduceus, who hands her a small bowl. He then turns to Yasha, hands her another. She stands and takes the few strides over to where Fjord lies. He blinks and forces his aching muscles to sit upright. 

“Hey,” He says groggily. 

“You passed out,” Yasha says, helpfully handing him the bowl, thinking better of it as his hands shake, and holding the broth to his lips for him. Fjord takes a large sip before responding. 

“I uh, I’m sorry, about that,” Fjord says, carefully taking the bowl in his own hands and forcing them to be still. 

“The other’s told me about why you talk like that, now,” Yasha says softly. Fjord blinks at her, taking another sip. 

“What did they tell you?” He feels bad for being snarky, but he’s still hazy and hurting, and cautious. Yasha smiles. 

“I understand why you would not want to risk another dream.” She says. Fjord slowly nods. 

“It’s not Uka’toa, right now, at least.” He says after another mouthful. Yasha narrows her eyes, stays silent and waits for him to continue. “My mind’s just not always the most pleasant space.” He says finally. Yasha nods, understanding. 

“I have... experienced that,” Yasha says slowly. Fjord sips, eyes trained on her. “I cannot say what works for me would work for you, but...” Yasha glances back towards the group. “I think we all do something, to fight it off.” 

Fjord squints at her. “How so?” Yasha looks at him, settles down on the ground beside him and points. 

“Beau stretches, every night before bed. When we all shared a room she’d push everything out of the way and do splits, hand-stands, every muscle group, just for a few seconds. Then pass out.” Yasha says, moving her hand a little and continue. “Jester, well, you know, she talks. She tells the Traveller about her day, writes and draws in her journal. I kind of do the same, but all to myself, in my head.” 

“Who do you talk to?” Fjord asks, instantly wincing, unsure he wants to know. Yasha barely meets his eyes. 

“Molly, Zualla.” She says, moving her finger again. “Caleb casts his spells, and Nott counts things. Sometimes just her own fingers, over and over until she’s tired enough to sleep.” 

“Caduceus makes tea.” Fjord adds, starting to get the point. Yasha nods and smiles at him. 

“You just have to find something that works for you,” Yasha says gently. Fjord finishes his soup and sets the bowl down. 

“How?” He asks. Yasha sighs and shrugs. 

“Have you ever had a hobby?” She asks, grimacing at her words. “I mean, something physical, repetitive. When you cast spells you always do the same motions.” Yasha says after a moment of silence. Fjord looks at his hands. 

“Guys on the ship sometimes picked up like knitting or woodworking. I was never that good at it.” He curls his thick fingers into his palms. 

“What about wire?” Yasha asks suddenly. Fjord tilts his head. “Beau has a bunch since she bought all those jewelers supplies for crushing the gems. She was complaining about it all just sitting in her bag.” Yasha turns and reaches around into one of the packs piled up next to them, emerging with a spool of silver wire. 

“Could you make something with that?” She asks. Fjord finds the end of it silently, twisting the cord around his index finger. 

“Maybe?” He says, not sounding very hopeful. 

“Try it, and if it doesn’t work try something else.” Yasha pats him a little awkwardly on the shoulder. 

“I need you to watch my back, Fjord.” She says, even softer now. Fjord blinks. 

“I...can do that.” He says. Yasha drops her hand back to her side. 

“I do not know if I will ever be able to... trust myself, again. So, it feels good, almost, to know you’re watching.” 

Watching. It echoes in Fjord’s brain. 

“I don’t think I’ll have to watch forever.” He says, surprising himself. Yasha looks at him, brow knitted. “I think you’ll get there, I mean. I think you were worth saving.” He tries to smile, motion fumbling a bit around his teeth. Yasha’s eyes widen a bit. 

“Thank you, Fjord.” She says with an exhale. “I hope you’re right.”

[kmelanin]

Permanent Ink /4\\ kth

a/n: enjoy

Main Masterlist~

( Permanent Ink ) masterlist~

WARNING- umm idk really.

word count: 5k+

___________________________

“Come on, I'll take you home” Taehyung holds his hand out. You almost wanted to laugh in his face, but you just scoff.

“No, I'm good” Your words slurred more that you expected. “I came here with Yoongi, so I’ll leave with him.” You give off so much attitude you left him stunned, until you turned to walk away. He frowned and he grabs your arm and pulls you back.

“I sent him to give you weed, not to bring you to a party.” He almost growls in your face. You were stunned for a moment, not used to the man handling.

“Why do you care, huh?” You pull your arm from his grip. “You seem unavailable and you're here with Sinsi, so Ill see you on Monday.” You once again turned around to go back inside and find Yoongi. This time both of his hands come and grab both of your shoulders and your back meets his chest.

“Stop walking away from me.” He breath hits your ear sending tingles down your neck. “You are drunk, and it's not safe. You have no choice, i'm taking you home.” You felt his hands squeeze a little, and you could feel the tension coming between you both. You knew he was serious. But alcohol loves to bring the little out in you. Without actually wanting to, you body give out enough to send you falling to the ground.

“Carry me then.”

“Fine.” He says with no hesitation and he bends down. His hands go under your legs and under your arms, easily lifting you up in a bridal style. You gasped out in surprisement when he does, you didn't think he could even lift you, let alone bend down and pick you all the way up. He starts to walk down the street, about five cars later one beeps and unlocks. He then sets you on your feet and opens the door. You pout and get in, and he waits until you were buckled to shut the door. You watch as he walks around and gets into the driver's seat.

“Aren't you drunk?” You ask.

“Nope.” His words bland and dull. He starts the car up.

“What about Sinsi?” You ask.

“She has a boyfriend and knows how to use a phone.” He looks over at you for a second and looks back and pulls off, following your directions to your home.

He helps you out, once you got there. Since you lived in a condo sized apartment, he had to help you with the security and with the elevator. You kept quiet, feeling quite embarrassed for how drunk you were.

When you reached your door, you unlocked and went inside. You turned to him and smiled.

“Thank you, see you-”

“Can I spend the night, I feel dizzy. Ill leave in the morning.” He looks at you, you suddenly got a bit nervous, but you nod anyways. You let him in and watch him as he looks around, most likely judging.

“I have a guest bedroom, Rowan usually sleep there but you can take it tonight.” You say pointing to the door, he looks at you and nods, not even looking to where you were pointing. But you don't say anything and you turn towards your bedroom. You go into the bathroom and take off your makeup and wash your face. You then take your hair down and you but on some pajama shorts and a tank top with no bra. Which you instantly regret when you enter your bedroom again and see Taehyung laying shirtless on your bed.

“Um, what are you doing?” You ask, casually crossing your arms incase your nipples were poking through.

“Going to bed. What else.” he says as if he was irritated, which had you confused.

“Whats wrong with the bed in the other room?”

“You won't be in it.” He tilts his head back against the headboard and he closes his eyes. You actually laugh.

“Now it will, good night Taehyung.” You say shaking you head, your head starting to hurt from all of the light and the fact that you were sobering up. You go to the kitchen and you grab a cup, getting some cold water from the dispenser in your fridge door. You take a couple of big drinks from it and set it down. As soon as you do, hands come out from behind you and cage you in on either side of your island. Your heart starting beating extremely fast, as you felt Taehyung behind you. With your hair up and neck exposed, he easily slide in and speaks against your jaw, looking up at you.

“I said, stop walking away from me.” His voice was low and warm against you. One of his hands come up and around your neck pulling your back into him and his other hand pushes down below your belly button. Pushing your ass right into his groin. His hand exposes your neck even more. His leaves gentle kisses on your neck.

“Taehyung…”

“Shh.” His hands turn you around. And your widened eyes meet his dark and low ones. “You're so annoying, you know that.” His hand comes up and caresses your face. You were confused to what was happening. His touch was so soft, but his words...

“And you're annoying.” You roll your eyes and push him away. Your head was banging right now and all you wanted was sleep. You went to your room and shut the door, leaving him out in the kitchen.

The next day you texted Rowan to send out reminders to your models for Monday’s meeting and photoshoot. When you left your room, you checked around and noticed that Taehyung had left. You wondered when he did though.

You pulled out your weed and some White Owl, white russian. You've started to roll up, taking you a lot longer than you thought since you don't do it as often. You wanted to get into it though.

You rolled two blunts and then started to get ready for the day. You smoked one blunt in the shower as you blast music. You heard that smoking in the shower would get you higher.  Once you got out and you right. You felt a bit lightheaded so you went to sit down and decide what to wear.

You were meeting up with two of your friends, and models who were modeling for you. Teresa and Valerie.

Slowly you dropped clothing pieces, not wanting to overwhelm a lot of people and also to make sure that everything was perfect.

You smoked the other blunt as you did your makeup and hair. You put on some ripped skinny jeans that went over your belly button a little and a white tube top. You wore a lace wig, it was pin straight and it was styled as a longer bob. You love real hair wigs.

You took some pictures in a mirror and you post one to instagram. You also quickly check your stats and like some pictures. You were pushing 5 millions followers and you were excited. You couldn't help but to check Taehyung's instagram and you smiled when you seen that he was pushing 200k. He put a couple more pictures up and the most recent was showing off his lightened hair. You clicked on the picture and you could feel your heart beating faster. His eyes were closed and head was tilted. His hair was a bit messy and it looked like…

Oh fuck. It looks just like your guest bedroom. You scrolled just a tad to see the caption.

‘My mind is going haywire.’ You were a little clueless wondering what was going on. Why did he leave without saying anything.

The dinging of your phone pulls you out of your little high daze in your phone. You look and see that Valerie texted you saying that they were waiting outside. You quickly pull on some Gucci sneakers, with the rhyton logo on them. You grabbed your purse with everything you need, from lipgloss to wallet to phone and charger.

Once you got outside, you quickly find Val’s army green Jeep. Valerie was in the front and Teresa was in the back.

It was almost noon so the parking lot was pretty busy. Once you got into the front passenger seat and get buckled, she takes off.

“So Min Yoongi posted about this new Korean place. I think we should go try it.” Teresa pipes up  when Valerie asks where we should eat. Your eyes widen a little when she mentioned his name. But thankfully they didn't say anything. They would scream at you if they knew you left him at a party.

“Sure sure.” You seemed a little out of it. Teresa noticed and pulled herself to the front and looked at you.

“Bitch are you high?” She started laughing as Val did.

“Damn, no wonder why it smelled like loud in here. Since when did you smoke weed?” she wonders and your high ass went off. You went on and told them about Taehyung and how he did her tattoo and how you feel about him. You even went off and also mentioned Yoongi and how he gave you weed.

“So you're telling me that Taehyung is now modeling for you? And you're scared to make a move on him?” Teresa hops out of the car when we park.

“I think he still has feeling for his ex Sinsi.”

“And she's dating Park Bogum?” Valerie asks. You nod. “So what the fuck are you doing? You should make a move. I see no reason why not to.” You three start walking towards the restaurant.

Then you stopped in your tracks confusing the girls in front of you.

You see his car parked in front. You recognize it by the Gucci tiger necklace hanging on the mirror.

“That's his car. Meaning he’s here.” You quickly say, you start backing up a bit wanting to leave. But they quickly grab you.

“No, this is good.” Val starts.

“Yea, from what you've told us he’s lowkey playing with you. Like testing you out, so let’s go in here and act like you don't know who he is. See what he does, play with him a bit.” They pull you inside. You didn't know why he made you so nervous. Was it his eyes, how they always looked at you so fiercely. Or his hands, how they could probably grab your ass so good. Or just how he presented himself, so dark and intense. Or was it how he didn't give into you so easily.

You put on your confident face and follow the waiter to a table in the back. You all sat down, you made sure that your back was to the restaurant in case you did see him. You didn't want to see him, until tomorrow.

Eventually you all finished eating and wanted to go shopping a bit. You go to your town most popular strip mall and you look around a bit. You were recognized a bit from social media and you take some pictures. You don't get much, just some new shoes that dropped and some new shirts.

They drop you off back home, saying how we all needed beauty sleep for tomorrow. As soon as you got home, you stripped everything off and put on some sweats and a tube top. You were heading to the couch to put on a movie, when you got a knock on your door. You frowned wondering who in the hell was at your door.

You look through the peephole and see a hooded figure. You almost freak out, and you couldn't stop your big mouth from moving.

“Um, who the hell are you?” You yell out, not wanting to let a stranger in.

“Taehyung, who else.” You frown at those words and you slowly opened the door. He hurries and enters before you could change your mind.

“What a-”

“You said blonde!” His voice startles you since you werent expecting it to be so loud.

“And you should be.” You were confused, wondering what was wrong.

“Then what is this?!” He yells and yanks his hood off, your eyes widen at the bright blue hair on his head.

“Why in the fuck is your haiR BLUE?” You wanted to pull your hair out.

“The hair person said that she messed up your and another designers hair colors, and she didn't realize until she did mine first and-”

“How the fuck can she mess up blonde and blue.” You quickly grab your phone and text Rowan to find out what the hell happened. Blue can't just come out, not without ruining his hair even more.

“Ugh, I'm so sorry Tae. Ill take the blame. You can either keep it or go back to black hair.” You shake your head and you go to open the door again. “We will have to do it in the morning. Good night.” You say, and with your body finally agreeing, it lets out a yawn.

“Mhmm lets smoke and talk.” He turns around and he plops on your couch.

“Aren't you mad about your hair?” You were sure he was pissed, and that's why you opened the door, not wanting to deal with it right now.

“Not really. Unless you want me to dye it black for tomorrow.” He started to pull off his jacket. You walked over to your kitchen, you couldn't stop looking at the back of his head. The way his hair was so bright, you couldn't stop thinking about how much more his facial features stood out. You went to one of your cookie jars. It was a matte black and a shape of a cube. It had shiny words on the front saying ‘cookie jar’. But really it's where you put all of your weed. You grabbed one of the bags and you opened a drawer and pulled out a couple rellos and a lighter. You take a deep breath and walk back out to the living room. You noticed that he turned it on a music channel. It was some type of classical music. It was quietly playing giving the room a chill vibe. You had a soft earth toned ‘L’  shaped couch. He was laid out in the corner. One foot laying on the shorter part. His arms stretched out. And his head tilted back and his eyes were closed. His head was nodding to the music a bit.

You sat down at the end of the couch, away from him and near your glass coffee table. It had your rolling tray and grinder. You pulled it a bit closer. And you started to grind down some weed. You were sure how much so you grind about 4 nugs.

“You roll.” You take the tray and you pass it to him. His eyes open and he just grabs the tray and open the rello packs and start to roll. You were looking at the music on your tv screen when you felt his eyes on you. You didn't want to look back at him so you just grab your phone so you could distract yourself.

From the corner of your eyes, you could see him sit up and sit more on the little part, he was facing you. You looked over and seen that he rolled two perfect, fat, blunts.

“Are we sharing, or having a blunt to ourselves.” He voice cuts through the music. You set your phone down and grabbed a lighter. You then walked over and sat partly in the corner. You patted the seat next to you and smile.

“Share.” Your smile shown your confidence, and Taehyung couldn't keep him smile off his face so he looks down, hiding it from you. He stands up and he turns toward you. His face was was settled into his usual hard face. His brows frowning a little, and jaw clenched. His bites down on his lower lip when climbs up. He sits against the pillows. You had to move a little so he could sit comfortably. But he startles you when he grabs you and pulls you toward him. Your back ended up against the other side and your legs laid over his. Once he sees that you're comfortable he grabs the lighter and one of the blunts and starts to light it. You look away back to the tv and start to listen to the now jazz music, hoping your heart beat would slow down.

“So, um when did you start tattooing?” You ask, wanting to talk about something other than work.

“I was 16 when I did my first tattoo.” He passes the blunt to you and you take it. You bring it up to your lips and take a hit. You look back at him, catching him staring. He looks down and pulls his sleeve up. He shows you his wrist, and points to a small ‘v’ right below his thumb.

“People called he V, I was  ‘very trouble and very troubled’ as a child, and out of nowhere, people were calling me V. I don't remember when it happened or who started it. But…” He shrugs and sits back. You hit it a couple more times and give it back. You nodded again understanding. You felt weird, not used to his vibes. They felt so compelling, and dangerous. He made your heart beat so fast, and you couldn't just ignore that.

You both slowly smoke the blunts, enjoying the music and each others presence.

By the time you were done with both blunts were gone, your body was buzzing and your mind was only on one thing. Taehyung. You tried to think about everything that is stopping you from getting what you want, but you couldn’t. Tonight felt different. There was a reason why he came here.

“So, did you just come here to show me your hair and smoke? Because I have a busy day tomorrow.” You say slowly, making sure you get everything out right.

“No, there's something else.” He mumbles. His eyes were redder than the Devils balls. You almost wanted to laugh at how crazy he looked with bright blue hair and blazing red eyes.

“Well there’s something I want to do real quick.” You say and before he could say anything, you got up and straddled his lap. His eyebrows raised, questioning your motive.

You sat comfortably on his lap, and his arm rested around your waist.

“I don't care what you think of me, or how much I annoy you, at least right now I don't. But i'm high as hell and I really want to kiss you, can I?” You felt yourself almost pout a bit. You looked down at your legs sitting over his. His tatted arms laying on top of your legs, his fingers grasping yours clothes.

“Kiss me Yn.”His voice gave off as more of a need than a command. His voice pulled you closer to him and his hands met your face and your hands met his. Your lips connected and as soon as they did, your body felt like giving in a bit. You sunk into his hold, sinking into his grasp. One of his hands brought you closer by pulling you in by your waist.

Your eyes were closed matching his, you pulled away a little, not opening. You tilted your head to the other side and kissed him again. This one a little more intense, coming from both sides. Taehyung felt his stomach starting to turn and tumble, making him kiss you faster.

He suddenly pushed you over onto your back and climbed onto you. His lips finding yours again. Nothing was said between you two, only the sound of each others lips were heard. There was a big ball fire getting bigger and bigger between you both. You both felt it.

You knew that this may be in the heat of the moment, and that the strong attraction was only one sided. You knew you both were crazy stoned, and that can make things feel crazy. But his lips felt so good against your skin. His hands grabbing at you wanting to feel your skin against his, he felt so addicting.

You pulled away from him a bit, needing to breath. But he clearly doesn't, because he starts to trail down your neck. His large hands moving anything clothing that was in his way. His body was begging himself to mark you, he wants to see how long it took bruise your skin.

“Taehyung…”Your hand comes to his chest, more near his neck, wanting him to stop. “Don't do anything you’ll regret.” He pushes against your hand, not wanting to be stopped. But you pushed back, wanting him to snap out of it.

“I asked to kiss you, not for you to go all macho man.” You joke, but he doesn't laugh.

“What did you expect when you ask me to kiss you?” His voice was low and rough. His eyes were hidden behind his hair a bit so you couldn't see them.

“Mhm, maybe a few pecks and then you wither away in disgust.” You shrug a bit, you smiled a little, to take some of the tension away. But instead of smiling along, Taehyung frowns and huffs a bit.

Did you not see how fucking beautiful you were? You must have, it's practically your job.

“Hmm, well Ill see you tomorrow.” He leans down and pecks your cheek, then gets up. You watch as he grabs his things and he looks back down at you. He winks and leaves.

What the fuck just happened?

The next morning, you were so thankful that everything was going fine. Everyone was a little shocked that Taehyung walked in with crazy blue hair, and you could tell he hated everyone’s eyes on him. What did he expect with all of those tattoos on him. Right now you weren’t feeling any types of bad for him, especially since you had to tell you makeup artist not to tell anyone about the hickies she had to cover up this morning.

You had the other makeup stylist add a pop of color in their makeup. It would add something to the neutral color pallet of the soon to be dropped clothes. You picked out the clothing for Taehyung yourself, while some of the stylist picked the other clothes.

You gave him some high waisted loose black pants, with a tucked in turtleneck and some jewellery. Another outfit was a grey ripped up crop top with some black pants. You let him pick out whatever accessories.

Throughout the whole photoshoot, you stood there making sure everyone looked good.

You made Taehyung mess his hair up a bit, making it look a bit more edgy then put together. He didn't help you any by staring at you the whole time.

After the shoot, you rented out one of your favorite bars, so that everyone can enjoy some drinks after and enjoy the rest of the night.

You changed into a black slip dress and something chunky black sneakers. Something more casual so you could hopefully relax some.

When you entered the bar, it was already filled with the models and some of their friends. You also see Rowan and Soobin standing with some of your other friends. You go right to the bar wanting a drink.

You get a couple of shots in and start to mingle with everyone. People thanked you for inviting them out for some drinks and congratulated you on your up and coming success. You made sure to get some good pictures with some of the models, so that you could post them to instagram later. You wanted to hint to the world about what was soon to come, and you was going to show it off.

“Can I get a picture too?” A familiar voice comes from behind you. You turn around and freeze and who was standing in front of you.

You first true boyfriend, now ex. He broke your heart a couple of years ago. You met him before you really became anything. He was there through it all, the hate, the great. It was when you were around 600k on instagram, you were going around the internet pretty fast. Until you got a little too full of yourself. He didn't like it and said that you left him in the shadow. You tried to show him off, but he explained that he didn't want to be shown, but just shown some attention. You've realized what you did wrong and you tried to fix it. But he just left, left you behind like you left him.

“You want a picture?” Your voice was quiet, and the music was loud, but he was close enough to hear you. You felt stuck before. You werent sure what to do or what to say, you just kept the same face you give everyone. A happy, pretty girl, who had money and family issues. He nods a little, not taking his eyes off of you. He was giving you a expression that you remember, the old times passing through you head like a movie. It gave you chills that you didn't want to remember.

“Okay.” You watch him pull his phone out from his back pocket and he gives it to a guard that was also in charge of taking decent pictures. He knows how you like them done. You take off to the side, the people behind you happily moving to let you get your picture. You stood and posed, once the guard noticed that you both were posed, he takes a couple, some with flash some with out.

You walked back over and Jimin grabbed his phone. He smiled a little and scrolls through the pictures.

“They're all the same, but a but different. This one is the best.” He shows you and your eyes widen a bit. You were posing, the lighting was great showing off your makeup perfectly. Jimin also looked great. His pink hair showing brightly off of his all black outfit. His face looking down to you with this deep look into his eyes. “Is it okay to post?” He asks softly, his eyes boring into yours. You just nod and turn to walk away, to forget you even seen him. But he grabs your wrist pulling you back.

“Can I talk to you?” He asks nicely. You sigh, knowing that you really had no choice. You took some shots and you needed to get this done and over with. You both leave and go into the bar owner office. He wasn't there, but you needed a room you could lock, incase some yelling happens.

“What Jimin? Why are you here?” You ask crossing your arms across your chest.

“It's my first time back.” He mumbles frowning a little bit, making you confused.

“Back? Back from where?” You wanted to know where he went after he left that day.

“I-i…” He hesitates. His hard exterior slowly cracking. I had to leave, leave the country because my parents were relocated for their jobs. I was only 16 at the time, and you were gaining fame on social media. I was afraid to tell you because you were so happy with your following, that caused myself to put distance between us. But then you also did, like we already explained all those years ago.” He says trying his best to explain himself. You could tell he wasn't trying to mess anything up because he had that slight frown between his browns and his eyes looked sad. His voice was strong and slow.

“So you were going to break up with me no matter what?” You try to understand his words. But what you say throws him off a little. “I understand that we were young at the time, but anyone would rather break up because of distance issues then because one person blames the other for something. Especially when you're saying that we both caused this?!” You voice was starting to get louder and louder. He kind of panics, not wanting you to get upset.

“I know and this is why i'm trying to tell you this. To let you know that I know I was wrong. This is my first time back and I was too much of a little bitch to tell you until now. I've seen you grow so much, and i'm so proud of you. I'm back now, I want to try again.” He voice turns soft.

“You're here because you see that I gaining more succ-” “No! I've never cared about your fame and following! You know that!” He almost feels insulted that you would even think that. “I know that you are mad at me,”

“I'm not mad at you, what happened, happened years ago. I've accepted the fact that you didn't want me, let alone make things work.”

“I only stopped your advances, because I know I was moving no matter what.”

“Whatever Jimin.” You sighed.

“Lets try and see if we still have that spark between us. Please? I've never stopped thinking about you.” His voice whispers, as he pulls you close. His touch felt so calming like before. One hand going to the back and the other trailing itself up from your stomach to your neck to your face. His body was like a magnet. Falling to his charms like before. Your lips moments away.

“I don't think that's a good idea. We were so young before.”

“Which is why I said we should try. Who knows what will happen.” His mouth starts to form a bit of  a smile, until you tease him a bit by leaning forward going to kiss him. His face suddenly gets serious and his eyes turn deeper, ready.

A large knock on the door interrupts you both. You felt his body tense up and you push him away.

“YN? Sorry to interrupt but Taehyung is here. I thought you would want to-” You stopped Rowan by swinging the door open, exposing Jimin to her. Her eyes widen when she seen who was behind you. It was practically her job knowing you. So when she seen you sigh and irritation in your eyes. But then Jimins hands were grasping your waist and he seemed upset as well. Maybe she should've just said your name and then told you face to face.

“Sorry! I think i've had too many drinks and I-” “It's fine Rowan…” You stop her from going any further.

“Who is Taehyung?” His voice was comes from behind you. You felt his hands pull you back a bit.

“Chill, he’s a model. I just signed him. Stay here.” You push him back with your hand on his chest. When you knew he wouldn't follow, you turn to find Taehyung with Rowan following behind. She tells you that she's at the bar, and that she's most likely going home in a few. You turn back and give her a hug and tell her goodnight.

You walk towards the bar, looking for the blue haired man. You see him standing there, on the side already looking at you. His eyes were low, his head tilted down some, making his gaze that much more intense. You felt a little nervous walking up to him, his felt upset about something.

“What’s wrong?” You ask when you reach him, you stood two feet away. He doesn't say anything at first.

“Why would you invite Bogum and Sinsi, when you knew that i'd come?” His voice was low, and after he said it he looked like he regretted it. You looked behind you and see them standing right in his line of vision.

“Bogum is a A celebrity. I'm surprised he's here myself. He's dating Sinsi isn't he? Why wouldn't she be at his side?” Then you look up into his eyes. “Plus I always do this after shoots as a little celebration for getting a intense job done. It's not a requirement. Leave or ignore them Taehyung.” You were pretty blunt but you didn't feel like dealing with his drama tonight. He just scoffs.

“Yn?” A girls voice comes from behind you, you turn around and see Sinsi and Bogum walking up. You were suddenly stuck in a thick tension.

“Sinsi told me a lot about you. I wanted to come by and ask for a partnership.” Bogum looks down at you and smile. You were confused to why he was asking you here, and now. Why didn't his team connect to your team?

Taehyung wasn't having it. He remembers the day he started to hate Bogum. When he asked Sinsi for a partnership, more like be in a drama together and ‘fall in love’. Taehyung couldn't help but to scoff at Bogum.

“Oh, I'm guessing good things. Ill give you the number of my PA and she will contact your team.” She smile giving him her number. He smiles down at you and enters it into his phone.

“Hi Taehyung.” Sinsi looks at him with her soft looking eyes. He just looks away from her, not wanting her to be near him. He didn't know why, or when the sudden change in feelings happened. But he looks down at your body, as you talk to Bogum, then he looks over to Sinsi. He instantly knew that you were so much better than her. He can't believe that he kept going after her, after she left him for someone else. Everytime she pops into his head, he eternally cringes.

“Well I hope to see you soon.” Park Bogum takes Sinsi away, leaving you and Taehyung alone.

Within the next month, you've kept busy in your work. You didn't want to slow down, at least not at the moment. Even with staying busy, Taehyung was on one side of your brain, in one ear. Since he was there with you every step of the way in your work towards your clothing. He wanted to know everything. It was kind of annoying that he asked so many questions and asked to watch you, or come with you. But at the end of the day he was interested in what you did and that somehow made it to your heart. It made you like him even more. You were annoyed with yourself, you didn't want to get attached so fast, but yet you couldn't help it.

But on the other side, in your other ear, Jimin. He was texting you, wanting to see you, sweet talking you. You would be completely lying if you said that you never wanted to see Jimin again. He’s grown so much since you seen him last. You don't know how he gotten prettier, in fact you would like to know his secret.

He seems so much more mature than before, darker. Like you said before, he’s grown and you were interested in what he had to offer.

But the thing is, you were overwhelmed. You didn't know what to do, you didn't want to do anything wrong. So you used your work as an excuse when you didn't want to answer something, or when a moment was to intense to handle at the moment.

Taehyung's hair faded into a mint green, it made him look softer at times, even with all of the tattoos. He always complained about it, and you always fought back saying that it was a pretty color on him. It always shut him up. You started to think that he was complaining more and more just to hear you call him pretty. But you doubt it.

[thevelonaut]

Homefront.

This is absolutely classics country. Fortunately, any semblance of romance gives way, quickly, to pain and frustration. On the way South East, I’d known in my heart of hearts that a tailwind (and occasionally swipey cross-wind) was helping me out. I knew that I’d be turning back into it, and that however gentle it felt as we wandered the streets of Brux, it would be multiplied significantly as I crept back across the ridgey-flats of the North West. The reason that the early-season classics are a hotch-potch of gurn, of hellish faces and awful weather, is much the same as the reason why this was a crap place for a crap war; once the sun goes in (and to some extent when it’s out), the endless flat lands, farm smells, headwinds, sideways drizzle and cobbled tracks become as steadfast an obstacle as the Pyrenean cols, the switchbacks of d’Huez, the ramps of the mighty Lecht. I’d prefer some hardy cols to this. It’s the kind of place suited for those broad-shouldered monsters of the old days, who could puncheur into wind like a force of nature. I can, for a bit. For a little bit.

The fifth day / Brussels → Ieper

Ypres, the French call it. Some five days (and 100 years) after the Battle of Paschendaele, I roll into Ypres through the Menenpoort. I say roll, I think it was the least uphill-feeling part of the day. I’d hung out with HC, her brother and sister-in-law in Brussels for two days. I’d had a cheeky swim to spin my legs, I’d noted a twinge in my groin which I imagine is due to over-cranking a gear for 200k, loaded with luggage, and not ever stretching it en route. I curse it. It needs rest, two days probably won’t cut it, and the Cambium isn’t so comfy after a four or five hour day. Maybe leather is better. I think so. I’ll flog it.

Anyway, I was up and out at 8am; the paths and back streets of Brussels are fairly easy to navigate, and the sun was out to remind me to head in a NWerly direction. I ended up on the ring-road and saw no way to head further north without a) riding on a motorway or b) turning back and trying again from about 3 miles back. With a 90-mile day ahead, I decided to head for Aalst, due west of Brussels, then turn to the north-west after about 30km. It wasn’t the worst idea. The pastoral, calm canalside riding that had seen me down seemed to desert me; instead, I was often on paths alongside the murder roads of NW Belgium, caning it up decentish-tracks and pavements, lamenting the canopied, wind-free joyfest of days two and three. This is another of my problems - I never set out a good return trip. Or, perhaps, I am so addled by the sense of return that I fail to enjoy what is nice about it. Or, the wind is a hell-ferret that never stopped in its attempts to break me. Eventually I stopped at a Spar and sprayed my face with Appletiser, and at 2.30pm when the sun hot-spongs for a spell, I applied suncream and ate a baguette and houmous on a housing estate by a dual carriageway. If it sounds exciting, then it is. I picked up a little of that TCR spirit. Fuck the views.. they all look like this anyway. 

They do. Seriously. I did about 90k of this. There were marginally more leaves on the trees, but most of them were blowing into my face. Still, it is pancake flat, ironing board, smooth as Christ riding. Let’s not mince words. Easy-hard. Or hard-easy.

I get to Oudenaarde, then Wevelgem, and hit the final 20k to Ypres where I know there is a campings. Those last km are sign-posted all to hell with Commonwealth War Graves. Evocative names, famous craters, hills, memorials, regiments; atop the ridgeline, white crosses, monoliths and megaliths, the bright stalagmites that point to where most peoples innards ended up; scattered into the pressing wind, lovely human beings fractioned into micro-particles, cast into a land ever-fertile for the growing of war-dead cabbages and sprouts. They say each breath you take will contain at least an oxygen molecule that Julius Caesar himself would have inhaled. (They don’t say that in the song. They should.) Along the Menen road, you are sucking in the literal and figurative remains of almost a whole generation of human beings.

I don’t like it. I’d seen Ypres was en route to Dunkirk, from where I spring home, and figured that it made sense to pass through. If I did a long-day-short-day two-day ride then I could stay here. I crept in through the gate; the sun is now out glorious, and the town is a magnificent sight. HC navigates me (she’s in London, having taken a bus to the station in Brussels, a train to London, and a bus home in the time it has taken me to yam some houmous in a lay-by) to the campsite; it’s a nice one, if you ignore the Canadian grave-baggers in the mobile homes, the people wearing T-shirts that name regiments and feature photographs of eternally-young great-great-uncles. I put up camp, wash, and stroll to Lidl to bag the last baguette, 3-flavour houmous (oh MY ACTUAL GOD THIS IS AMAZING) and a tin of mackerel. Whilst I demolish this on Ypres square, I note a bunch of people dressed in their going-out clothes walking purposely through town. I’d forgotten that they play The Last Post every night at the Gate, and ambled along covered in beetroot and parsnip dip to pay my respects.

Except I didn’t really know how to. Or why I should? TO what, exactly, am I paying respect? And where are the Germans? Why is the Poort covered with only the Allied dead? And it’s nice that we honour the Indian regiments, when they were forced to dig so many trenches and graves, and be treated like shit for the privilege. Plus, I recently read that an explicit promise to release India from the Commonwealth in return for military support was never honoured. So, really, the whole thing leaves a strange taste in the mouth. Not just the race, the nationalism, the anti-nationalism, the visible lack of outreach; the spectacle itself feels like a fetish. There cannot be a person here who actually knew the dead of Ypres; too much time has gone by. And it is important that we honour this stupidity in order that we may not see its like again. But the crowds, the iPhones, the inane chat when it’s finished. I wasn’t in the mood. Is it the case that a ride across the Maginot Line is the perfect pace to consider the distance and futility of a war that became a mass-grave, formed into a perfect borderline? The Last Post had been, on some unconscious level, playing in my head for hours. It’s the soundtrack of a dark, sad place. So, so sad.

I woke at 6.30am the next day and hotfooted it out of town.

The sixth day / Ieper → Dunkirk → Dover → London Bridge → My bed.

The roads from Ypres to the border were quiet, uneventful, still windy. I got lost two or three times. I’d cycle later this month with my friend Ed, who uses Strava and Garmin and magic; the ease of navigation with devices astounds me. It picks out exactly where you are, and tells you exactly where to go. I almost give in to the temptation to update my by-now 4 year-old Blackberry to something worth a shit, that could do such things. Handlebar mounts for phones don’t do it for me, though. I use every square millimetre of space on a handlebar for, well, my hands. So... not yet. The phone still works. I got lost. Added six miles onto a 40-mile day. Nae bother.

I reached Oost-Capel after a spell of anonymity. I craved a coffee, hoped this French border town would have someplace to sit. It did not.. Belgian towns are decidedly absent of cafes, I know not why. It’s one of those subtle differences; you feel as if you are in France, but it’s the upside-down version. Instead of a nice cafe, there are about ten border guards sleepily waving down cars, mirror-checking the chassis, asking where people are off to. It’s an unsettling sight, but they wave me right by. (The guards at the port would later give me the same bored wave-through. I’m not carrying weapons of mass destruction (400k of fixed touring has savaged my groin and patella, mind you) but it’s both curious and somewhat alarming that a bike can get through to the ferry easily.)

There’s a nice small walled city called Bergues, where I stop for a brew. I dip the remains of last night’s baguette into it, soaking up about half that black glorious. I love soaking bread in coffee, but even though I still get the coffee, I feel like I’m denying myself something. Bergues is right pretty; I trace the little canal network to the North and take a cycle path alongside a canal to Dunkirk. It’s the nicest part of the day. I reach Dunkirk at about 12.30pm, and orbit the old town for an hour or so, then take the dock road up toward the ferry port. I load my bright pink musette with a lunch from Lidl, carry it over a motorway overpass, under a gyratory, behind a Travelodge, past some cranes, around ten roundabouts, over another autoroute, along a busy truck road, around a slag pile and just beneath some fire-spewing chimneys. The ferry port is not a pretty place. Pretty, in that industrial sense, which is to say not so pretty at all. I eat lunch in the weird cafe where no staff work, only machines; it’s a post-Marxist approach to the service industry. I wonder if the docking ferry in front of me is driven by a human being. I think about all those human beings who waited for a boat home in 1940 and all the ones that never got a chance to leave the cruddy fields of Flanders. I am covered in houmous, again, at a moment of silent contemplation. The world is a calm sea, choppy in the middle, and some white chalky downs that leap out of the channel at Dover. Everyone takes photographs of the sharp teeth of England’s mouth, opening up in a bucolic snarl to gobble up its visitors. Pretty soon, I am in torrential rain outside Dover station, throbbing legs, pack of peanuts, Spar lemon-lime and a newspaper to tell me what I missed.

Tour over. Legs recover. I pull out of London Bridge and spin crazy-legs to home. HC makes porridge. The sun goes down.

[mveloc]

Days of Why and How

Chapter 4

Author’s Note: We finally get the much-anticipated meeting between the two! Also, a heads up--this chapter is just a little NSFW ;) Thank you all for your continued support, for the much appreciated feedback and love that you’ve shown me. Enjoy!

“We’ve just gotta lay low for a little while. The cops aren’t onto us.”

Cosima nearly rolls her eyes at the comment, filling up the pint glass from the tap at the bar. She passes it to Sarah, then repeats the process for Felix. As soon as the two have their beers in hand, they wander back over to their usual table and Cosima steps out from behind the bar to follow them. It’s still fairly early on a weeknight and the bar is quiet aside from a couple of other patrons who’ve already been tended to, so Cosima takes the time to sit down with her friends for a few minutes to hammer out some details.

“And how do you know that?” Felix asks, casually sipping his beer.

Cosima is curious, as well. It’s been three days since their failed attempt and they haven’t heard anything about it. From what she can tell, everything is quiet—too quiet. Why hasn’t she heard anything in the news? Why haven’t the cops tried to contact her?

“Marion’s been keeping her eye out,” Sarah replies. “She says she’s on damage control—she’ll take care of it.”

Cosima doesn’t understand how Sarah can put so much trust in this Marion woman; she doesn’t know anything about her but from what they’ve able to piece together, Marion is about as shady as they come. Even if Sarah is right—if Marion is somehow taking care of their fuck up and sweeping it under the rug—how is she supposed to just stand by and wait?

“Just relax,” Sarah mutters, gulping down her beer.

Cosima fumes.

“How am I supposed to relax? I have a record, Sarah!” she snaps. “Wouldn’t it seem suspicious to you if a high-end security system was hacked just a couple of weeks after I’ve been released? I went to prison for a job just like this! Any cop with half a brain in their head would be dragging my ass in for questioning right about now.”

She knows she needs to play it cool but the truth is, she’s been an anxious mess. Their botched operation only has a small part to do with it, though; she’s more anxious over Delphine’s involvement in the entire thing and what this could possibly mean for her.

“This isn’t going to come back to you, Cos. I promise,” Sarah reiterates.

“You can’t promise me that,” Cosima mumbles, shaking her head.

She’s heard that promise before and by now she’s learned better than to trust it.

Sarah’s expression softens, her eyes shining with sympathy. She understands where Cosima is coming from and realizes that her concerns are completely valid, but she also knows that she needs to keep her friend from slinking down into the dumps; she can’t allow Cosima to panic and wallow in thoughts of prison and Delphine and all of her failures.

“This Marion bitch, she’s pretty powerful. She's got some sort of pull in law enforcement—that’s what she told me,” Sarah says, trying to put Cosima’s mind at ease. “She says she’ll make sure the cops never tie it back to any of us.”

“If she’s so powerful, why doesn’t she steal the fucking files herself?” Felix asks.

Cosima nods, agreeing with younger man.

“I dunno,” Sarah shrugs. “But for 200k—who cares?”

“I care,” Cosima counters. “Besides, we don’t even have the 200k. We botched the job, remember? You can kiss that money goodbye.”

After something like this, DYAD would undoubtedly be updating their security system and taking the necessary precautions to ensure that it doesn’t happen again. Completing this job the first time proved to be a difficult task and that was before DYAD even knew there was trouble afoot. Now that they know they have enemies trying to rob them? It’s going to be nearly impossible.

“Marion says we may have another shot, but it’s gonna take her a little while to get everything sorted. She says she’ll call me once everything’s back in line.”

Cosima laughs at her friend’s irrational words.

“What? You’ve got cold feet now?” Sarah ask, clearly annoyed.

“We got lucky, Sarah. Assuming she comes through and this somehow doesn’t get back to us, we won’t be so lucky if we fuck it up a second time,” Cosima argues.

“We’re not gonna fuck it up a second time,” Sarah throws back. “Once we have more details, we’ll be able to do it right.”

“DYAD knows someone’s trying to rob them. They’ll be expecting us. What was it you taught me all those years ago? “The trick is, you gotta hit ’em when they least expect it?” Isn’t what you’re suggesting, like, the complete antithesis to your entire thief dogma?”

“Cosima’s got a point,” Felix nods. “If they’re expecting you, we’re going to have to approach this in an entirely different way.”

“Thank you!” Cosima exclaims, throwing her arms up in exasperation.

Sarah frowns, draining the rest of her glass.

“Not to mention that our favourite backstabbing bitch is back in the picture, too,” Felix adds. “How does Delphine play into all of this?”

The very mention of her name causes Cosima’s body to lock up.

“Would you both just forget about Delphine?” Sarah asks, her irritation building fast.

“Oh, I think we’d all like to forget about her, but if she’s also after those files, she probably knows something that we don’t,” Felix says.

He’s got a point.

Cosima’s never met anyone quite as meticulous as her ex. Delphine simply doesn’t operate in the dark. When she runs a job, she has all of the details sorted out before she even considers setting foot in the building. She has no idea what Delphine has been up to these last five years, but it’s clear that she’s still in the game and if she’s after the same thing that Marion is, she probably has a better idea of what’s going on than Sarah.

Cosima shifts uncomfortably in her chair, crossing and uncrossing her legs. Who would have thought things would turn out this way? That Delphine would be reintroduced into her life like this? Even though Sarah had told her to stay away, she knows it’s only a matter of time before their paths inevitably cross again.

They have to.

She used to think that maybe, one day, when she was finally ready to confront her ex head-on, she would look her up and track her down. She would arrive at Delphine’s doorstep and for once catch the blonde off guard. She would be cool and composed as the two of them finally spoke, clearing the air between them once and for all like adults. By the end of the conversation, she’ll have said her piece and be able to move on without looking back.

That was the ideal resolution to all of this bullshit.

She doesn’t want to be angry anymore. She doesn’t want to feel heartbroken or betrayed. She just wants to understand—to be able to look back at everything with a clear mind. She doesn't want to flinch every time she hears Delphine’s name.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Sarah spits, her voice reclaiming Cosima’s attention.

Confused, Cosima follows the punk’s angry gaze across the bar to one of the very familiar pool tables where she spots Delphine running a hand along the table’s cloth as her eyes quickly scan the area. As soon as the blonde’s eyes land on their table, Cosima quickly averts her gaze, bowing her head to try and hide.

“Shit—shit!” she whispers harshly, bubbling with panic. “What do I do?”

“Nothing. Don’t react,” Felix tells her, assuming his best pokerface. “Just play it cool.”

“You don’t think she’ll come over here, do you?”

She’s supposed to be working and she knows she’ll eventually have to go back to tending the bar, but how is she supposed to do her job with Delphine here? She dares to steal another quick glance from over her shoulder and spots the blonde slowly approaching.

“Just keep your head down. Act normal,” Sarah tells her.

Cosima nods, keeping her head low and back turned.

“Um… hello.”

Delphine’s voice is much softer than she remembers. She thinks maybe the European is trying to shrink herself down to size, to present herself as a non-threat so that Cosima will actually engage with her.

“Oh, don’t you dare even start,” Sarah snaps.

Cosima tries to discreetly steal another glance of the blonde from over her shoulder and when she does, she briefly makes eye contact with her before whipping her head back around and averting her gaze to the table.

“C-Cosima?” Delphine asks, her voice uncertain.

“Keep walking,” Felix interjects, matching Sarah’s death glare in an attempt to ward the temptress off.

Delphine’s eyes dart back and fourth between the siblings. She draws her lower lip in, chewing absently as she assesses the situation. Sarah and Felix have made absolutely no attempt to hide their contempt and she knows that she’s outnumbered, that she lacks the home field advantage. She remembers Sarah being rabid at times and completely unpredictable and she doesn’t want this meeting to escalate, but she also knows that she can’t walk away without speaking to Cosima. She decides to ignore the siblings for now, her gaze shifting back to Cosima.

“Sarah said you were out and I—I needed to see you,” she says, stepping closer so that the brunette can no longer avoid her.

Cosima sighs, giving up the charade. She lifts her head to gaze up at the blonde, their eyes finally connecting. As soon as Cosima opens her mouth to speak, Sarah immediately cuts her off.

“No! Don’t you say anything!” she snaps.

She immediately closes her mouth again, Sarah’s wrath silencing her.

“Can we talk?” Delphine tries, her voice bordering on desperate.

“She’s got nothing to say to you, you lying twat,” Sarah spits again.

Cosima knows that Sarah is right, that she doesn’t owe Delphine anything at all. She should probably just tell her to fuck off and carry on with the night. She knows they need to have a conversation, but that conversation doesn’t have to happen now, does it? Maybe she’ll leave Delphine dangling for a while just as the French woman left her for five years. Maybe then she’ll know what it feels like.

Delphine frowns, running a hand through her hair.

“Look, I know you’re probably upset with me—”

“Probably?” Cosima scoffs.

She knows she shouldn’t speak, but she can’t keep the biting comment to herself. Delphine is surprisingly calm about all of this and while she’s always known the blonde to be level-headed, she was expecting a little more … something? She isn’t sure. She certainly wasn’t expecting Delphine to just walk into the bar she used to regular and waltz right up to her like a goddamn missionary asking for a moment of her time.

“Could you please just give me a chance?” Delphine pleads.

Cosima bows her head again, her eyes clamping shut as she tries to process her thoughts and reach a conclusion. What is she supposed to do? Should she listen to Sarah and tell her to take a hike? Or should she see this through? She has to have this conversation eventually, so why not now? Because she’s not prepared. But will she ever really be prepared for what’s about to happen? Probably not. But what if Delphine is finally going to explain herself? What if she’ll finally be rewarded the answers to all of the questions that have been haunting her for these last five years? Isn’t that worth an awkward conversation with an ex? When she looks up back at Delphine again, her hazel eyes silently pleading, she can sense the desperation emanating off of her in waves and it’s something she’s never experienced before. She realizes that maybe she’s not as powerless as she thinks—maybe she does have some power over Delphine that she can use after all. Maybe she isn’t going into this weaponless.

“Okay,” she agrees.

Everyone seems surprised with her decision—even Delphine. Sarah and Felix are gaping and furious as the hacker completely undermines their act.

“Seriously, Cos?” Sarah asks.

She knows that Sarah is just trying to protect her, that she’s doing what she thinks is right for her, but this is something that she has to work through without the help of her family. She knows that deep down, Sarah and Felix understand this. That’s why she’s able to stand, bringing herself closer to Delphine’s height as they remain locked in stare.

“Let’s go.”

Cosima leads her through the bar, completely ignoring the glares of Sarah and Felix. She pushes through the “employees only” door to find Bobby on the other side, the other woman shooting her a confused look—a look which quickly shifts into shock as soon as she notices Delphine following behind her. Bobby is fully aware of their history and Cosima can tell that she’s tempted to say something, but the bartender has enough sense to keep her comments to herself and look the other way while Cosima leads Delphine out through the back door.

Once they’re standing in the alleyway, Cosima finally stops. She summons all the courage she can muster, taking a deep breath before turning around to finally face Delphine properly for the first time in five years.

A beat of silence passes.

The two take the moment to give each other a once over, to confirm that they are, in fact, face-to-face with each other again. Delphine doesn’t look very different from the last time they saw each other—her hair is quite a bit longer but aside from that, she’s exactly as Cosima remembers her… and judging from the smile on the blonde’s face, Delphine’s thoughts seem to mirror her own.

“You look well,” Delphine says with a curt nod.

Cosima folds her arms over her chest.

“You didn’t come here to talk about how good I look,” she mutters with a frown, dismissing her former lover’s compliment.

Delphine nods again.

“I… I wanted to apologize,” is all she says. “I can’t imagine what these last five years must have been like for you.”

Cosima scoffs.

“Well, if you had bothered to call or visit or even write me a fucking letter, maybe you would.”

Her anger is beginning to rise to the surface and even though she knows Delphine definitely deserves to experience her full wrath, she tries her hardest to maintain the loose grip she’s kept for so long. She doesn’t want to give her ex the satisfaction—to let her see that even though it’s been five years, the French woman still has any sort of control over her emotions.

“You’re right,” Delphine says quietly, acknowledging her anger.

Cosima is shocked, although she does her best to hide this fact. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting when she agreed to this conversation, but this certainly wasn’t it. Delphine taking responsibility for her fuck ups? That certainly seems out of character. Maybe she really has changed in the last five years… or maybe this is just another manipulation. Cosima isn’t sure what to think anymore.

“I should have… I should have done something,” Delphine admits, her gaze directed at the ground in what appears to be shame. “I should have been there for you, like you were for me.”

Cosima inhales a sharp breath, her lower lip trembling.

“Then why weren’t you?” she asks, her control quickly slipping.

Delphine lifts her gaze again.

“I was young. I was scared. I panicked,” she explains

She chews on her bottom lip and runs a hand through her hair just as she always did before when she found herself in a difficult situation—when she was upset and trying to hold herself together. Cosima easily picks up on this, but even still, she has a hard time feeling sympathy for her ex-girlfriend.

“What about me?” she throws back in her face, voice beginning to rise. “You think I wasn’t scared? You think every day I spent in there was a fucking picnic?”

“Of course not! I know that!” Delphine bursts.

Her voice seems to echo through the alleyway, bouncing off the narrow walls and slamming into the brunette, trapping them both. Cosima can almost taste the guilt radiating off the French woman and while she’d really like to laugh and shrug it off, she can’t deny it—she’s effected.

Another beat of silence passes.

Cosima’s chest is heaving as she tries to stop herself from both screaming and crying. Delphine’s lower lip is quivering now, her eyes glossy. She clears her throat, taking a page from Cosima’s book and trying to reel in her emotions which are swiftly spiralling out of her control.

“I don’t want to fight, Cosima,” she sighs, her voice wavering with exhaustion. “I’m just happy to see you again. I’m happy you’re free.”

There’s a sincerity to her voice that Cosima can’t help but notice. She shifts back and forth on her feet as she tries to find a greater stability, to keep the ground from falling out beneath her. The air is nippy and she hugs herself a little tighter to keep the autumn chill out (or to trap the heat of their reunion inside).

“What about you?” she shrugs, trying her hardest to appear uninterested. “What kept you so busy that you couldn’t send me a single letter?”

In her heart she already knows the answer but she needs to hear it from Delphine’s mouth.

“I’m… I’m still working for Leekie.”

Cosima can’t help but laugh this time.

“Right. Should have figured,” she nods.

“He’s… sort of made me his partner,” Delphine continues, clearly hesitant to reveal too much for fear of striking a chord. “I’m his second-in-command, I suppose.”

“Wow,” Cosima laughs again. “Worked your way all the way up, huh?”

Delphine frowns.

Even though Cosima laughs and shrugs her off, she can see through the smokescreen rather easily. Cosima has always been like this; instead of tackling her problems head-on and actually acknowledging that she’s upset, she tries to feign apathy. They’ve danced this dance a hundred times before and while Delphine is tempted to call her out, she understands that they aren’t quite on that level yet.

“I’m happy you’re back,” Delphine changes to subject. “I was surprised when I saw Sarah—when I heard her say your name.”

“Yeah, well, me too.”

Delphine smiles.

“I didn’t expect any of this, but I’m happy—really happy,” she adds, taking a step closer. “Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

When Cosima dares to meet her gaze again, she finds a warmth in the blonde’s eyes that she’s fallen into way too many times in the past much like a puddle, stubbornly refusing (or conveniently forgetting) to acknowledge the abyss she knows is hiding beneath. Maybe this time will be different, she told herself every time as she launched herself into the air like an eager child with a brand new pair of rain boots on the first day of spring, enamoured by the thought of creating the biggest splash… and yet, every single time she found herself sucked into the depths of Delphine like quicksand, left to struggle and drown.

Not this time.

“I’m going back inside,” she says quietly, gesturing towards the door. “I’m sort of in the middle of work.”

She goes to move, to step around her ex-girlfriend, but Delphine is quicker.

“Wait!” she calls out, grabbing Cosima’s arm.

Cosima stops.

She stares down at Delphine’s hand on her arm, a shock ripping through her. At first she thinks it’s anger—anger that after everything, Delphine thinks she can waltz back into her life like the Queen of England, full of influence and demands. Or maybe it’s sense memory—Delphine’s touch pulling her back to an easier time where she both welcomed and craved it. Whatever it is, she knows she’s much too tired to deal with it right now.

“What do you want, Delphine?” she asks, her voice laced with a touch of anger but mostly exhaustion.

“I just want to talk to you,” Delphine says simply, searching her gaze with pleading eyes.

Her hand lingers on Cosima’s arm, thumb gently brushing over the skin she finds. Cosima stares at it for another second.

“Well, I don’t have anything to say to you.”

She shrugs out of Delphine’s grasp but before she can make another move towards the door, Delphine quickly slots herself between her and her destination.

“I don’t believe that,” Delphine presses.

Delphine was always far too astute for her own good. It was one of the things that Cosima initially found attractive about her; there was simply no dancing around the woman—as a con artist, she could see through most ploys with relative ease, or at least she always saw through Cosima whenever the brunette would hesitate.

Cosima sighs.

There are about a hundred things she could say to Delphine—that she thought she wanted to say—but standing in front of her right now, she realizes that it isn’t as important as she once thought. All of those conversations that she’d rehearsed in her head begin to melt away. Sure, she could kick and scream and unleash all of her frustration upon the blonde, but what good would that really do either of them? What good is any of it? Did she really expect any sort of closure from this? Is that why she agreed to have this conversation in the first place?

“Look, I’m happy that everything worked out for you—that you got everything you ever wanted—but I’m over it,” she says. “I don’t need this shit in my life anymore, okay? I’m trying to pull myself together and start over. I don’t need this.”

Now it’s her turn to search the blonde.

Delphine blinks a few times, digesting Cosima’s words. She nods slowly, but Cosima isn’t certain that Delphine is really capable of understanding what it is she’s trying to say—or maybe she doesn’t want to understand. It’s a curious thing, watching the French woman struggle—seeing her at a loss for the very first time since they’ve known each other. Delphine has always been so sure of herself and in this moment of truth, she seems… much smaller than Cosima remembers—vulnerable, somehow.

Cosima cocks her head, trying to unravel her ex-girlfriend’s expression. It isn’t like before, when they were much younger. This isn’t a pokerface—rather the opposite; it isn’t the absence of emotion on the blonde’s face, rather the mixture and clash of so many different ones that has captured Cosima’s attention.

“Can we… be friends? Maybe?” Delphine tries.

“Friends?” Cosima asks incredulously. “You wanna be friends?”

They’ve never been friends. Delphine had said it herself many years ago. It was always more with them, always would be more. Delphine Cormier didn’t know how to have friends and judging by the hesitation in her voice, by the confusion in her eyes, she still hasn't figured it out after so many years.

“I still care about you, Cosima,” she whispers.

Cosima freezes.

She wants to launch herself into Delphine’s arms and hold her until the last five years bleed out of her memory. She wants take those words, fashion them into a knife and slip them quietly but surely between the blonde’s ribs until she strikes her heart. She wants to sigh in relief and scream in frustration at the very same time.

What is she supposed to do with that?

“Unbelievable,” Cosima mutters, shaking her head.

After all this time, without even a real explanation as to why the blonde had abandoned her in the first place, Delphine throws this at her? This was definitely not what she was expecting and before she does something she might regret, she rushes out of the alley as fast as she can, pushing through the door, leaving Delphine.

+ + + + +

“Okay, that’s enough!” Sarah barks, making no attempt to hide her displeasure. “Give someone else a chance to play, yeah?”

The punk stands on the other side of the table, Tony at her side sipping on a Budweiser, the two of them watching as things heat up between the cheeky brunette and her femme fatale. They’re four games deep and tied at two a piece, both determined to emerge victorious and defend their reputations.

“In a minute!” Cosima dismisses her, chalking the end of her cue as she prepares herself for the next game. “We’ve gotta settle this once and for all.”

“Settle what?” Tony asks.

“Who’s the better player,” Delphine answers.

They’ve been going back and forth all night; Cosima had managed to claim the first game as retribution for her very first defeat against the blonde, but Delphine had stepped her game up to claim the second. The third game had been neck-and-neck with Cosima narrowly beating out the European and at that point, Delphine had insisted upon five games to settle the score. Cosima was tempted to turn her down and walk away with her title (she did win their initially agreed upon two out of three games), but she found herself unable to defend against Delphine’s puppy dog pout. Delphine had managed to completely disarm her and steal the fourth game, so now all there’s left to do is for one of them to deliver the finishing blow.

“Who cares?” Sarah rolls her eyes.

While Tony is infinitely more amused by the power play that’s unfolding before him, neither him nor Sarah are particularly invested in the outcome. Delphine eyes Cosima from across the table, her gaze deep and penetrating, bordering on predatory. Cosima tries her hardest to ignore it, shielding herself behind a cocky grin that she hopes will knock the blonde off her stride.

“One last game. Winner takes all,” Delphine says, voice low and almost menacing.

Cosima’s smirk vanishes the second she notices the blonde lick her lips, never breaking eye contact. She knows that look—she spent last weekend getting well-acquainted with it. She feels a flush begin to rise up her neck and she prays to God that her face isn’t burning bright red right now.

“You know, I didn’t come here to watch you two eye-fuck each other all night and hog the bloody table,” Sarah mutters.

Her words fall on deaf ears as Cosima’s gaze remains focused on Delphine’s mouth and she tightens her grip on the cue. The corners of Delphine’s lips twitch into the very briefest of smiles before she places her cue on the table.

“Fair enough,” she shrugs.

Cosima immediately snaps out of her spell when she notices Delphine’s resignation.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

Delphine stalks toward her, each step heavy with purpose—almost as heavy as the look in her eyes which nearly sucks the air out of Cosima’s lungs.

“Bathroom,” she whispers harshly as she brushes by Cosima.

“But… but we’ve got a score to settle!”

“We do.”

She watches—awestruck—as Delphine saunters away from her without even bothering to look back. She disappears into the woman’s bathroom and the three of them are left standing in her wreckage like survivors of a category five.

“What the hell are you waiting for?” Tony asks, nudging Cosima.

Cosima places her cue down on the table.

“Should… should I follow her?”

Tony flashes her a dumbfounded look.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“Right, right. Okay,” she nods, hurrying after the blonde.

She doesn’t do stuff like this.

While she’s always considered herself a free spirit in many ways, she’s never been the girl who meets random strangers in a bar and then follows them home for a night of no-strings-attached passion. All of her past girlfriends had been friends first, their relationships slowly crafted over a period of time. She just wasn’t the kind of person who threw herself headfirst into someone else, but Delphine’s rewritten all the rules.

Just what are they, exactly?

She’d gone home with Delphine after the blonde had defeated her in a quick game of pool and they’d spent the entire weekend entangled in each other like love-starved teenagers. When Monday morning finally rolled around, Cosima had crawled out of Delphine’s bed, slipped into her clothes and ventured off to class as she usually did. Sarah had instructed her to play it cool, that a girl like Delphine didn't like to feel smothered and if she was really interested in pursuing something with her, she’d have to let Delphine define the boundaries. They hadn’t brought up the “girlfriend” topic at all during the course of their weekend together, but then again, they didn’t do much talking at all. All she knows is that there’s definitely something there between them and Delphine must feel it too, otherwise she wouldn’t have reappeared at Cosima’s regular bar the very next Friday with no notice to challenge her to another game of pool.

Cosima knocks three times on the door to the woman’s bathroom and is instantly drawn in, the door swinging open and Delphine reaching out to grab her. Once she’s inside, Delphine locks the door and slams her up against it, their lips clashing together.

“So I guess this means you like me, huh?” Cosima pants, trying desperately to catch her breath as Delphine breaks their kiss to trail her lips down the column of her neck.

“Something like that,” Delphine murmurs.

She nips at Cosima’s neck, teethmarks still faintly imprinted and the flesh still slightly bruised from their encounter last weekend. Cosima groans, burying her hands in the pile of silky, golden locks atop the French girl’s head as Delphine sinks her teeth a little deeper, branding her again. She could care less about pool, about her flimsy reputation or the fact that Sarah and Tony are most likely snickering amongst themselves on the other side of the door; all that matters is the warmth that’s settled in the pit of her stomach—a warmth that is quickly starting to rise, to spread throughout the rest of her body like a fever. Delphine’s hands cup the swell of her breasts through her shirt and bra and Cosima bites down hard on her lower lip to stifle herself, lashes fluttering as her arousal begins to overwhelm her.

The craziest place she’s ever had sex before now was in the back of her car after prom and it had been an awkward experience to say the least. Despite the less-than-ideal location, there’s absolutely nothing awkward about her current coupling with the blonde; Delphine is as graceful a lover as she is an enthusiastic one, her hands knowing exactly where and when to touch, her lips finding the most sensitive spots on Cosima’s body with ease. There isn’t any awkward fumbling, any uncertainty or hesitation. They fit together so naturally that it’s hard for Cosima to imagine herself with anyone else, be it past, present or future.

“I wanna taste you again,” Cosima moans with a lick of her lips.

The words slip out of her mouth and she’s completely unaware of them until she feels Delphine’s body freeze, the blonde halting her ministrations completely. A tiny sigh escapes her lips before they abandon Cosima’s neck. Her hands retreat from fondling Cosima’s breasts and she straightens her spine, standing tall. Even though there are only a few inches between them, at her full height it seems as if she towers over Cosima, boxing her in. The brunette catches a dangerous glint in Delphine’s eyes and she repeats herself once more.

“I wanna taste you,” she breathes, leaning in for another kiss.

Delphine stops her.

“Then get on your knees.”

Cosima’s confused expression immediately shifts when she hears the throaty words slide from her lover’s mouth. The heat that’s been rising in her belly explodes now and her knees go weak, wetness rushing directly to her core. No further incentive required, Cosima drops to her knees and immediately begins hiking up the blonde’s dress, a strangled yet satisfied moan escaping from her when she realizes that Delphine has so conveniently neglected to wear underwear.

She doesn’t have to look up to know that the French girl is grinning from ear-to-ear.

“I guess this means you like me, huh?” Delphine teases, her hands finding Cosima’s dreads, hips bucking in anticipation.

Cosima grins, placing a series of kisses along Delphine’s inner thighs before she hones in on her prize.

“Something like that.”