She didn't really know what she was doing there, standing near the edge of the path, overlooking the boats filled with tourists trying to get a look at Grotta Azzurra. She had travelled for almost five hours from Rome to Capri, after getting back to the car Konstantin had given her. She had blasted the radio in the car ("Listen to your heart there's nothing else you can do"), in order to quiet her mind, but it seemed like even the radio was trying to scream at her.

She had never gone through this. Kills were just as easy and enjoyable as shopping. Slash a throat, shoot someone, run them over with a truck, buy a puffy dress or a pinstriped suit. Easy. Familiar.

And she hadn't even shot Eve to kill her. She aimed where she knew it wouldn't be lethal. Also, she was sure someone would have found her or she would have been able to get away and get help. It was not like Eve had died. She was sure of it. Eve had just… why couldn't she see it? That they belonged together?

"If you can see I'm the one who understands you. Been here all along so why can't you see: you belong with me."

"I wouldn't have pegged you for a Taylor Swift fan."

Villanelle turned around. A man was standing there on the path behind her, the one that led to the hotel she was currently staying. She could tell from the way he said "you" that he must have come from Northern England, probably close to Scotland, even though he was masking it behind a RP accent. He also looked like a spy taken from a novel, with the long overcoat, regardless of how hot it was in Italy, that covered part of his face and in whose pockets he hid his hands. The fedora tipped forward finished the cliche look and she had to scoff.

"I guess you wouldn't have heard about her in a 50s spy novel."

She hid her Russian accent behind an Italian one. She didn't know why exactly she was hiding or from whom, since Eve, damn her, had killed Raymond. But ever since she got to Capri, she had become someone else. She had gotten a bob haircut and died her hair dark brown. The giant sunglasses helped hide half of her face, and the scarf, Eve's scarf, hid the other. She had even settled for a simple white button up and brown slacks that ended just shy of her calves. The beige mocassins finished off her look, all brown and white, blending in easily in the crowd of tourists and the rocky background.

"Oh, you think I'm a spy?" She could hear the smirk in his voice, but remained still while he took a couple of steps in her direction.

She raised an eyebrow. He laughed.

"Very well. Might as well stop with the charade. I was never one for it, anyway. Carolyn was always better at this use of banter and disguise as subterfuge. I always preferred to get right to the point. Cleaner that way, don't you think?"

He took off the hat, gave it a dirty look, and tossed it over the edge, into the sea. The coat was shed just as quickly and she could tell he was relieved to get rid of it in this heat. She still didn't say anything, but put one hand in her pocket, where she kept a knife. So he was MI6, interesting.

She smiled sweetly, while giving him a confused look. What, I think we'd… You think we'd be what? Bonnie and Clyde?

"Who's Carolyn?"

"I thought we wouldn't use subterfuge anymore." He came closer and stood a couple of feet away. She gripped the knife tighter, but remained still, her mask in place.

He stared at her, trying to read her, and sighed after a few seconds, looking away at the sea. The Mediterranean Sea around Grotta Azzurra was of the clearest and most beautiful blues she had ever seen. It all but sparkled when the sun hit it just right and you could see right through it, to the floor. It was no wonder tourists swarmed this little island off the Italian coast near Naples and got on overfilled tiny boats just to get a glimpse of the Grotta. She was tired of Italy though and its dust filled everything. Everything was dusty and old and moldy and filled with ruins and shattered hopes and dreams. What do you want for dinner? Tonight I could make dinner.

"I know you loved her."

Her mask slipped and her face contorted in a pain she didn't fully understand. Eve hadn't wanted to be with her. It took her only a second to get herself back together, but she could see it was enough for him to have seen. She moved fast. In an instant, she took the knife out of her pocket, closed the distance between them, and pressed it to his throat. He didn't even flinch; just kept staring at her.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She snarled. "I have never loved anyone."

He didn't say anything, but she felt some pressure between her ribs that she recognised as the tip of a knife. He smiled charmingly at her.

"Not in the way she knew how to love, you didn't. But in your own way, you did."

She pressed the knife harder. So did he. A minute passed and they just started at each other. She could see that he was calm and she wondered if it was a bluff or if he was really just calm. She had never felt fear in this situations, either, not even when Raymond was choking the life out of her. She didn't fear death, she was its harbinger. You love me. No. That was the only moment she felt something that she thought people consider as fear. Eve didn't love her. Or, at least, Eve didn't accept that she loved her. But why? They were the same. Eve should love her. Eve should want her. Villanelle knew she did. Why didn't she just… embrace it? What was it about Villanelle that was that bad that Eve wouldn't want her? Well… If Eve didn't want her, then it was her loss.

"She does love you, you know."

She groaned and let go of the knife, turning back towards the sea. This was Amsterdam all over again. She could feel the prickling behind her eyes. She couldn't believe she was crying again. Because of stupid Eve. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"If you don't run away, I can help you."

She turned around swinging, but he just leaned back out of her reach, making her stumble and almost fall, had it not been for him holding her from her back, his arms hooked under her armpits, his hands clasped behind her head.

"You want to know why she rejected you?" He whispered in her ear. "You were right. You two are the same. But not exactly. Whereas you are free and alone, she's tethered. You don't know what love is because you've never really had it. Love, for you, comes in the form of possession, of abuse. Love, for you, comes from a dark place. But with Eve? She can be just as ruthless as you, and you can teach her how to kill and be emotionless about it, but she's always going to be tethered. Because she's had a family, she's had friends, she's had a husband. She understands what love is in a way you don't."

"Let me go!" She started thrashing against him. This was too much, she felt like drowning. She could feel the waves coming harder and harder against her, knocking her down, not letting her breath. She growled and reach her hands back trying to get to his throat or his eyes, but he didn't seem to care.

"But when Konstantin gave you the car so you could runaway-"

"When he stabbed me in the back and betrayed me!"

"He wanted his family back, you can hardly blame him. You're not his family."

"But I thought I was his friend!"

"Don't fool yourself, Villanelle."

She stepped on his foot once, twice, three times. As hard as she could, but he still didn't budge.

"He said your family was dead. 'Most of them' he said. Don't you want to know what he meant by that?"

"What's the point?"

Maybe elbowing in the ribs or stomach would do it.

"Think about it. You can be tethered too. It was not just about making her more like you. You have to be more like her, too. You have to meet in the middle. Don't you want Eve?"

She stopped thrashing, but he still held her for a minute, to see if she would try something stupid. When he seemed to think she wasn't going to runaway, he let go of her. She fell ungraciously, she was ashamed to say, to the ground. He kneeled next to her.

"Why do you care?"

"If you come with me I can explain all of it. There isn't a reason we can't have this conversation in a more comfortable place."

She thought about it. She didn't really have much to lose, did she? Meeting Eve only exacerbated her feelings of loneliness. No one ever wanted to watch a movie with her. Or let her make dinner for them. Even all the sex she had had since then had been boring. She could pretend all she wanted that they were Eve. She could even call them Eve. But they weren't stupid, stubborn Eve. And who knows. Maybe if she seemed interested in him, he would let his guard down, and then she could kill him. Killing always helped, even if just a little bit.

She shrugged. "Okay, I'll go with you."

He smiled (his smiles were starting to creep her out), and got up, offering her a helping hand. "Excellent, I know a great place."