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Cosima used to love life. She used to wake up each morning with a smile on her face, excited for what the day might bring. She used to go to bed each night, excited about what dreams her mind might conjure up.
Cosima used to love to bake cookies at 3 am. She’d often study into the early morning, getting caught up in the words of Charles Darwin and Buckminster Fuller. She had to be up for class at 6 am anyways, and knew she would sleep through her alarm, so she often baked instead. Delphine would always shuffle out of their bed when the timer went off. With her curly hair mussed from sleeping, and her eyes barely open, she would drag the enthusiastic scientist over to their bed and force her to get some rest. Cosima was always late to class the next morning, but it was worth it to wake up in Delphine’s arms.
Cosima used to love to people watch. She would drag Delphine down to the Distillery District and the two would sit outside a café for hours just making up stories about the people who passed by them. Delphine was often practical and imagined the people on the street were off to dates or to pick up their children from daycare. Whereas Cosima always thought they were spies, or assassins, or superheroes in disguise.
Cosima used to love to go to model homes just to see what their life would be like if they lived there. She and Delphine would name each of their children and choose what their nurseries would look like. Cosima insisted upon a little boy named Darwin, but Delphine always shot her down, claiming their son was guaranteed to get ridiculed at school with a name like that.
Cosima used to love to carve faces out of watermelons in July. Halloween was her favorite holiday, and she just couldn’t stand to wait until October to show off her carving skills. She once challenged Delphine to a seed-spitting contest with the leftover insides, but the taller scientist couldn’t spit the seed farther than a few inches.
Cosima used to love the first days of winter when she could finally break out her bright red coat. She loved to pretend she was a train with each exhale into the cold air, the white condensation curling up towards the sky. Delphine would always latch onto Cosima’s waste good-naturedly and pretend to be the conductor.
Cosima used to love life, that is, until Scott called to tell her about the shooting.
Now her red coat stayed tucked in the corner of her closet, where it reeked of expensive French perfume.
Now she just ordered food in because every time she stepped in the kitchen she swore she could feel Delphine’s arms wrapped around her waist, just like they always did when Cosima cooked for them.
Now she kept her head down when she walked through crowds, because every face she looked at reminded her of Delphine. She found it particularly difficult to explain to a stranger why their large hazel eyes made her cry.
Now whenever Felix called to check in and make sure she had taken the medication DYAD had given her, Cosima would always say she’d already taken it, even though she had flushed it down the toilet weeks ago.
Now when her alarm rang she hid under her comforter and pinched her arms, desperately wishing to wake herself from this nightmare.