The first time Eve killed, it was to save Villanelle's life. It was also a lie, of a kind. Raymond was choking the life out of her, but Villanelle did have that damn gun in her pocket. Would she have used it? Did she even remember it was in her pocket at the time?
Or had the thought of him getting his grubby little hands on Eve wipe everything else from her mind, and the subsequent, glorious vision of Eve with that axe in her hands make everything else in the world completely irrelevant? Villanelle thought she knew the answer, and it might have been that in another world, speaking it aloud could have saved them time. Either way, it didn't matter.
No, not at all, because here was Eve, killing to protect Villanelle again. A knife, this time, a beautiful thing with a carved silver handle that Villanelle had gifted her for Valentine's day.
It was red now, and prettier for it.
There was no ruse this time, really! Villanelle's own knife was lost somewhere on the floor, the split-second hesitation to actually use it causing this whole mess.
Eve's face, stained red and so very pretty, made the fumble worth it.
Villanelle could only watch, utterly entranced as Eve did her butcher's work. No finesse, only a lifetime's worth of repressed anger. That was alright; that was Eve' mark, Villanelle though. She had a lot of anger to get out.
Once satisfied the lump of flesh wouldn't get up again, Eve turned to Villanelle. Her eyes wild, but focused. Villanelle met her half-way.
Her hands cupped Eve's cheeks, turned her this way and that, made sure all of the blood was not Eve's. A smile curved Villanelle's lips, she could not help herself.
"That was very messy, Eve. But I like it."
Eve laughed. She kept laughing for a long time, until tears made tracks through the red on her cheeks. Villanelle pulled her close, not minding the blood. This wouldn't be the first haute couture blouse she ruined with it.
"I don't regret it. Not even a little. What is wrong with us?"
Eve sounded so small. Villanelle frowned. Delicate now. You don't get second chances often. Do not screw this up again.
"A lot, most shrinks would say," Eve giggle-sobbed against her chest, a good sign, "I don't know Eve. If it helps, that one deserved it."
Eve moved, pressed her forehead to Villanelle's, breathed deep.
"It does help. Probably another sign of a problem, but it helps."
Villanelle nodded, took Eve's hand, the one holding the beautiful knife, and guided Eve away, to somewhere safe.
If she is a monster, then being a monster can not be so bad. Is that why we love each other? I feed her monster, she feeds mine, and we love them just the same.
Killing Eve, Eve/Villanelle,cw for murder wives being in love with both each other and their carnage
Or had the thought of him getting his grubby little hands on Eve wipe everything else from her mind, and the subsequent, glorious vision of Eve with that axe in her hands make everything else in the world completely irrelevant? Villanelle thought she knew the answer, and it might have been that in another world, speaking it aloud could have saved them time. Either way, it didn't matter.
No, not at all, because here was Eve, killing to protect Villanelle again. A knife, this time, a beautiful thing with a carved silver handle that Villanelle had gifted her for Valentine's day.
It was red now, and prettier for it.
There was no ruse this time, really! Villanelle's own knife was lost somewhere on the floor, the split-second hesitation to actually use it causing this whole mess.
Eve's face, stained red and so very pretty, made the fumble worth it.
Villanelle could only watch, utterly entranced as Eve did her butcher's work. No finesse, only a lifetime's worth of repressed anger. That was alright; that was Eve' mark, Villanelle though. She had a lot of anger to get out.
Once satisfied the lump of flesh wouldn't get up again, Eve turned to Villanelle. Her eyes wild, but focused. Villanelle met her half-way.
Her hands cupped Eve's cheeks, turned her this way and that, made sure all of the blood was not Eve's. A smile curved Villanelle's lips, she could not help herself.
"That was very messy, Eve. But I like it."
Eve laughed. She kept laughing for a long time, until tears made tracks through the red on her cheeks. Villanelle pulled her close, not minding the blood. This wouldn't be the first haute couture blouse she ruined with it.
"I don't regret it. Not even a little. What is wrong with us?"
Eve sounded so small. Villanelle frowned. Delicate now. You don't get second chances often. Do not screw this up again.
"A lot, most shrinks would say," Eve giggle-sobbed against her chest, a good sign, "I don't know Eve. If it helps, that one deserved it."
Eve moved, pressed her forehead to Villanelle's, breathed deep.
"It does help. Probably another sign of a problem, but it helps."
Villanelle nodded, took Eve's hand, the one holding the beautiful knife, and guided Eve away, to somewhere safe.
If she is a monster, then being a monster can not be so bad. Is that why we love each other? I feed her monster, she feeds mine, and we love them just the same.