By the time that the taxi had driven Eve back to her new government appointed flat, I was already noon. Neither Carolyn or Hugo had provided her with any idea as to where Villanelle's body could be, though she had figured that they were both lying anyway, why on earth would either of them do her a favour after what she'd done?
She climbed up the mouldy staircase to her flat and unlocked the door, immediately she was hit with the smell of rotten fruit and damp. She grimaced, slamming the door shut and tossing the keys to the floor and she shuffled through a small hallway littered with bird feathers and decayed, brown leaves.
"God, you'd hate this place." She laughed weakly, wiping away her tears with her knuckle and she pulled off her coat that had finally dried, the stench of stagnant river water filled her apartment as she tossed it over the arm of her dark brown couch.
Eve slowly sat herself down on the edge of the seat next to her coat and pulled off her stained shirt, the cool air giving her goosebumps as she held the shirt out in front of her. In deafening silence, Eve stared at the blood stain that had spread out over most of her right shoulder, she ran her thumbs over it delicately.
"This is all I have of you, Villanelle, this little bit of blood." Eve then squeezed the shirt tightly until her knuckles turned white, her throat closed and she felt like she could hardly breathe. She screamed loudly, and kept screaming until her voice cracked and all she could taste was the blood trickling down the back of her throat.
Eventually, she wiped her eyes dry and took several deep breathes. Still staring at the spot of blood on her shirt, Eve lightly shook her head in sad disappointment.
"We should have taken a picture together at least, or stolen one of your fancy shirts, anything…we could have been so good together, Oksana."
She made a promise to herself not to cry anymore, tears were a waste of energy, energy that she was going to need to find Villanelle's body. She scrunched up the shirt in her hands, her knuckles turning white and she set her teeth hard whilst she took a deep breath.
"I will find you. I promise." Eve vowed determinedly as she closed her eyes and pictured Oksana's body floating weightlessly in the water, her honey-coloured hair splayed out in several tendrils while the current caressed them back and forth.
Eve smiled, trying to comfort herself with the thought that Villanelle looked as if she were sleeping, finally at peace from the horrifically chaotic life she had previously lived. As if on que, her phone chimed from the depths of her coat pocket, pulling her from the silence. Eve folded the shirt over her knees and reached for her coat, quickly freeing her phone and tapping the screen to see a text from a private number on her lock screen.
"Who the hell…?" Eve muttered, swiping across to unlock the phone and read the text. The screen cast a soft glow over her cheeks as she read the words, colour quickly draining from her face as her stomach soon tightened with knots.
Do you really think you can kill us so easily? Such a shame you don't have your assassin to protect you anymore. Only a matter of time, Eve. -K
She stared at the message, reading it over and over again. Could this mean that the Twelve were still alive? That Villanelle died for nothing? She could feel anger rapidly rising in her chest, her eyes stinging furiously as she growled at her screen, her thumbs tapping clumsily over the keyboard.
Who is this? Eve texted the number back and almost immediately received a response back, an automated message informing her that her text could not be delivered because the number didn't exist. She sighed heavily, flicking through all her thoughts and feelings before simply dashing her phone across the apartment. It noisily bounced off the drywall, leaving a sizeable hole in its place before settling on the wooden floor, the screen undoubtedly cracked.
By the time five o'clock rolled around, Eve had managed to force herself into the bath, washing away the filth that clung to her skin. She sat at one end with her knees pressed tightly to her chest, her arms wrapped just as tightly over her legs. It was a sour familiarity, thinking back to that moment in Paris when she stabbed villanelle, going back home to Niko had been difficult, especially as she fought with the concept that she had killed Oksana. If only she knew then how she felt about her, things would have turned out so much differently.
Eve sniffed, coughing quietly as the water gently sloshed the porcelain sides, the colour a slightly greenish grey. She figured it must have been the river residue that caused the water to appear so murky, she wasn't normally that grimy. The silence that surrounded her was almost eerie, the way the nothingness seemed to echo off the walls and pound loudly in her ears.
She raised her hands and held them both out in front of her as she had done once before, water dripping from her fingers as she stared at her pruned skin. Her fingers had once been stained with Villanelle's blood, the skin under her fingernails had been impossibly difficult to clean.
Eve remembered how conflicted she felt after Paris, the slight pleasure she got from stabbing Oksana had shocked her to her core, she remembered how sleepless her nights were for a few days afterwards and how her head teased her with vivid memories. Even to Eve, the incredulousness of their relationship was apparent; how she had gone from stabbing Villanelle to holding her angelic face as they kissed in the middle of Scotland, seemingly confirming their feelings for each other without exchanging a single word about it. Oh, how her heart ached.
Eve submerged her hands again, leaning forward and feeling around for the plug, she pulled it and the cloudy water quickly began to drain around her. She then stood, water dripping and running down her slender body, stepped out of the bath and snatched a large red towel from the rack then wrapped it round herself.
Wringing the water from her curly mane, Eve tied another red towel around her head and walked through her apartment, the floorboards protesting every step. She bypassed the kitchen and went straight for her phone. Picking it up, she waited for a moment before turning it round, the screen was badly cracked.
She shuffled into her bedroom and noticed four suitcases lined up at the foot of the double bed. Clearly, MI6 had done her packing for her, she was surprised to know that she even owned enough clothes to need more than one suitcase.
Eve ignored the suitcases and whipped back the bed sheets, the duvet felt thin and worn. She loosened her towel and let it fall effortlessly at her feet before collapsing into bed, she was ready to sleep, ready to let her dreams take the reins. Before she could succumb to exhaustion, she unlocked her phone and flicked through it, there were no photos of Villanelle, none that she would have appreciated anyway. She managed to find Oksana's prison mugshot, her hair dark and eyes cold, the girl in the picture didn't look anything like the Villanelle she knew. Same face, but different person.
She closed the photo down and instead opened her text messages. Eve grimaced as it opened up to the ominous text from earlier, choosing to ignore it, she scrolled down to her messages from Villanelle. She smirked at the capital V with three emojis next to it; A droplet of blood, a knife and a red heart. She remembered showing Villanelle the emojis Eve had chosen for her and Villanelle had scoffed, berating her for the first two but the look on Villanelle's face when she noticed the heart made Eve flutter.
She opened up the texts and scrolled through nearly two years' worth of messages. It took nearly ten minutes but she did it, she was at the start. With a soft smile, Eve began to read through their history.
V: Hi Kill Commander – wanna hang? Vx
V: Truck, shocked dead, ghost, thumbs up.
Those texts arrived a day after she watched Villanelle push that woman into the road, Eve would never forget the noise her body made. Her head popped like a balloon, though it had looked like something else entirely. The sound of her bones snapping, even through the glass window, had churned her stomach. She skipped past the business bits, she wanted to relive the flirtation between them.
E: You shouldn't have hit him, what if you've ruined our chance to get him? Did you even think about that?
V: He was asking for it, you heard the things he said to me.
E: You could have just ignored him, Villanelle!
V: He humiliated me, Eve. So, I humiliated him, his sister seemed to enjoy it. Why don't you?
E: Because you probably just cost us this whole operation! Why don't you get that?!
V: Eve, I've told you before about speaking to me like that. I don't like it.
E: Yeah, well, I don't like it when you don't listen to me.
V: Say something interesting and I might.
E: You're an asshole.
Whilst it may not have seemed liked it, Eve loved those first texts. She looked back at them and realised that she cared about Villanelle even then. Truth was, she had worried about that night. She knew Villanelle was headstrong and bold, unafraid to be herself, those qualities made the assassin so unquestionably desirable but she worried about them too. A man like Aaron Peele could have been horribly offended by her, though luckily for them, he too had found himself magnetised by her attitude.
Again, she flicked through, laughing and smiling through texts that, now, were painfully obvious to her that she liked Villanelle.
V: Did I make you jealous this morning, Eve?
E: Are you talking about those two women that came out of your room today, women that you obviously had sex with? Nope.
V: Umm, it kinda seems like you're jealous. X
E: I have nothing to be jealous about, I have a husband.
V: You mean moustache? I bet you think about me more than him. X
E: The only reason I think about you, is because I try to imagine what it will be like to arrest you after all this.
V: So…you dream about me in handcuffs? I knew you were secretly kinky. X
E: Fuck off.
She could never have admitted to Villanelle just how right she was. Back then, Eve had been ashamed of herself for the thoughts she had about Oksana. Even when she and Niko had sex, she would sometimes close her eyes and imagine Villanelle beneath her, gripping her hips tightly as Eve rode her, a strap-on filling every inch of her…
Eve cleared her throat; her provocative thoughts just made her sad. She only ever got to kiss Villanelle, she never got to touch her, to feel her shudder beneath her. Eve then wondered what her assassin would have tasted like, how sweetly intoxicating her smell would be. If only they had more time together, they could have fucked for hours on a balcony in Rome, or touched each other harmoniously in a restaurant bathroom.
Biting her bottom lip, Eve continued to read but could feel her heartbeat quicken despite her distractions.
V: I'm sorry I shot you, Eve. I killed you in Rome and I kind of regret it because I still can't stop thinking about you. X
V: Eve, I've met a woman, her name is Maria. We have only known each other a few months but I'm marrying her. I know I said that marriage is stupid, but I can't wait. X
V: I don't know why I'm still texting you, you're dead now, so you can't reply. It's weird though, it makes me feel…less shit. X
V: Konstantin tells me I need to forget about you. He doesn't know I do this though; he would probably get me assessed again. X
V: Eve, I really wish I hadn't shot you. I have killed so many people but I have never been like this before. I hate it. I hate that you make me this way. X
Eve smiled and wiped her eyes, refusing to let the tears fall. At the time, she never knew Villanelle was texting her, she blocked her number as soon as she was able. It was only after they saw each other again that Eve unblocked her, the messages had come through and Eve spent an evening reading them.
In a most peculiar way, Eve thought it was sweet. She knew those texts would have been Villanelle's way of caring about her, texting someone she assumed to be dead just to keep her memory alive. It was concerning yet sweet. It was because of those messages from Villanelle that Eve knew the assassin cared for her in a similar way.
V: You know, I should be furious with you for what you put me through, Eve. You were alive that whole time…I didn't tell you that I was coming to London, after I found out you were alive, I didn't want to ruin the surprise. And when I show up to see you, you fight with me, kiss me and headbutt me? X
E: You're angry with me? Seriously? You fucking shot me in the back, Oksana! Left me to bleed to death in the middle of Rome! Go to hell.
V: I think you forgot that you stabbed me in Paris, that was just revenge. And don't call me Oksana, you know how I feel about that. X
E: You're a psychopath, Oksana and a murderous one at that, I stabbed you to protect myself.
V: Eve. I really don't like that name.
V: And that's bullshit. I promised that I wouldn't hurt you, why would I lie about that, Eve? X
E: Psychopaths lie about everything.
V: I would never lie to you. X
Eve shook her head in amusement at Villanelle's text. From that moment, Villanelle had not lied to her, once. She would sometimes dance around the truth, fabricate small details simply for shock value, but never had she lied outright.
V: Are you awake? X
V: Eve? X
V: Please talk to me, don't be boring. X
V: Come on, Eve, I want to talk to you. X
E: What?
V: Don't be like that…I couldn't stop thinking about you and I couldn't sleep so X
E: So? Unlike you, I am trying to sleep so can you stop texting me please?
V: But I love texting you, Eve, how else am I supposed to talk to you? X
E: You could text me at a reasonable time, not at two o'clock in the morning.
V: But it is not two in the morning for me. For me, it is three o'clock in the morning. X
E: Oh, so where are you then? Paris? Italy?
V: Close, but no, I have just landed in Amsterdam. The Dutch are so nice. X
Villanelle would often send Eve photos of the places she visited, she couldn't believe how beautiful the photos were, how refreshing it was to see places other than London. Though despite the gorgeous photos, Eve couldn't quite ignore the reasons for Villanelle to be in all those places. Each place she visited, she would leave a horrific scene and a body behind.
E: Amsterdam? I haven't been to Amsterdam before, are you going to send me pictures?
V: Of course, don't I always send you pictures? And you've never been to Amsterdam before because Carolyn sent someone else. X
E: What do you mean Carolyn sent someone else?
E: And yes, you do always send me pictures. Thank you.
V: It was a while ago, I went self employed for a bit, I'll explain another time. X
V: Would you like a picture now? I was able to get one at the airport. X
E: Really? I'd love to see it, thank you! X
V: I just sent it to you, I hope you like it, Eve. X
Eve remembered the picture she sent that morning. She hadn't expected it and when she opened it, she had felt her stomach flutter and tighten. Villanelle had decided to use the Schiphol Airport bathroom as the location for her photoshoot. It wasn't a glamourous backdrop but the subject of the photo sufficiently made up for that fact.
Villanelle had taken a photo of herself; her makeup was slight but beautiful and natural looking. Her skin appeared soft, smooth and fair. Eve could remember the photo in great details, especially the way her cleavage teased her whilst she remained modest. Her breasts were held within a gorgeous red and black laced bra, thread detailing spread over the cups in swirls and spots.
The photo had left Eve breathless; she had felt her heart thumping inside her chest when she first saw it, a slow rising ache had stirred in the pits of her stomach. Unfortunately for her, she also remembered deleting the picture a few days afterwards, guilty and ashamed to have a provocative picture of a deadly assassin on her phone. Eve laid in bed, wishing so deeply that she had kept the photo instead of deleting it.
E: I wasn't expecting a photo like that, I thought it was going to be something…different.
V: Do you like it? Do you like what I'm wearing in it?
E: It's…a beautiful bra.
V: The bra looks a lot better in person. X
E: I'll have to take your word for it. X
The exhaustion had almost taken over Eve, her eyes felt heavy and dry and she was ready to succumb to the siren song of sleep, but there was something she had to do first. She pressed the empty text box at the bottom of her screen and stared blankly as her thumbs hovered above the letters for a moment before she began to type out her message to Villanelle.
E: You're dead now. Like, really dead. I watched you get shot, you saved my life and I had to watch you die. I was finally ready to admit to myself that I loved you, and you died. You had changed so much from the woman I first met. I hated you at first, I thought you were arrogant and rude, a narcissistic asshole with a superiority complex worse than Putin. You weren't a psychopath, Villanelle, at least not born one. They made you one, but I could see that you were trying to be different, that you were trying to change. You made me feel so beautiful and interesting and important in a way that Niko didn't. I loved him, I did, but I know I loved you more. I wish things were different, I wish that you were alive and lying beside me so I could run my fingers through your hair. God, I loved your hair so much. Carolyn told me that they couldn't find you, or your…body. They don't care, but I do. I want to know that you're rested someplace nice, somewhere you would have loved. So, I'm not going to stop until I find you, until I know that you're not floating along the river Thames. I love you, Villanelle. XXX