Title: The Morning After The Bridge Before

Fandom: Killing Eve

Characters: Eve Polastri, Oksana Astankova

Category: Fluff, Killing Eve Week - Day Three "Soft".

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 1267

Summary: The morning after that night at the bridge.

Warnings: None as far as I can recall.

Eve is naked and exhausted. Not the kind of exhaustion that's so familiar, the exhaustion of folding hundreds of little dumplings for hours and hours at a time or five fucking minutes of dealing with Carolyn, but a pleasant ache of soreness that leaves her languid and sprawled across the bed. She's slept for an hour maybe but she feels less like moving now than she did before.

Beside her Villanelle snores, soft little purrs of sound that Eve has no doubt she would adamantly deny like the asshole she is if Eve were ever to mention it. It's probably keeping her awake - it could also be the whirl of thoughts drifting around her mind like a lazy carousel - but Eve doesn't mind. She's in bed with Villanelle. It's simultaneously the last thing Eve has ever been able to imagine and the culmination of every single moment of fascination she's had about this woman.

Most of all, Eve has never been able to resist Villanelle. She has moments of anger, big moments like Rome, but it's never enough to stop that electric pull between them. She had thought maybe that it would end when the chase was finally over - when she gave in or Villanelle did - but it's still there even now. Especially now.

Beneath Villanelle's arm, Eve rolls until she's facing her. There's a thin line of drool running down her chin and Eve wants to laugh. Such an indignity Villanelle would never allow if she were conscious. It only makes the warmth inside Eve grow. She reaches one hand out to run through Villanelle's hair, somehow still soft and tangle free despite their exertions, the opposite of Eve's glorious mess.

Villanelle's hair ends in the middle of her back and Eve can't stop herself from running a hand down her back, letting her nails scrape gently against soft skin until her hand is dipping into the curve of her waist and following the swell of Villanelle's ass back up. Her hand rests there for a second before Eve grins and smacks the ass beneath her hand lightly.

Villanelle jerks straight up in bed, looking around before her gaze fixes on Eve. "Do not start something you are not prepared to finish," she says as she rolls over to flop onto her back.

Eve's hand slips over the curve of her ass and comes to rest on the jut of her hipbone. She digs her nails into tender flesh again because she can't help herself. "Why do you think I'm not prepared to finish it?" And this... this is her whole relationship with Villanelle. One dare after another, one thing Villanelle doesn't think she'll do and Eve rising ever to the challenge.

Villanelle laughs light and happy. "Because you can barely keep your eyes open."

Eve snorts. It's true but she doesn't want to admit it. She can't remember the last time she had marathon sex like that. "Can too," she mutters because Villanelle doesn't have sole ownership of stubborn assholery.

"Why are you not sleeping anyway?" Villanelle demands as Eve relaxes her hand and starts to rub her thumb over the marks she left, soothing what she roused.

"You snore," Eve says bluntly.

"I do not!" Villanelle protests her voice going up on the last syllable.

Eve laughs; she can't help it. Just like she predicted. "Yes you do," she counters, but her voice is low and easy, not combative, and so very, very fond. Villanelle might be an asshole but she's Eve's asshole.

"Then I should go," Villanelle declares dramatically, pushing up on her elbows but only succeeding in pushing her breasts out farther. "You need your rest."

Eve gapes and rolls over onto Villanelle, straddling her hips and pushing her back down onto the mattress, pinning her wrists down beside her head. "No. You're not going anywhere now that-."

"Now that what?" Villanelle challenges her.

"Now that I've caught you," Eve declares. "I'm not letting you go."

Villanelle squirms beneath her and Eve knows she could free herself if she wanted to but she must be content to remain there because Villanelle doesn't try anything more. "You've had me for a long time," Villanelle finally says, her voice serious, but she's looking to the side, unable to meet Eve's gaze.

Eve sighs and lets go of Villanelle's wrist to cup her face and turn it until Villanelle meets her gaze. "I know, but I wasn't ready." She leans over and kisses Villanelle gently, with the softest brush of her lips that she can manage. "I am now."

Villanelle swallows hard. "Do you promise?" She sounds so young and innocent it makes Eve's heart ache, even if she knows Villanelle is far from it.

Eve kisses her again, losing herself in the kiss, in Villanelle's lips. "Promise," Eve whispers as she draws back. It's as much to herself as it is to Villanelle. "Do we need to talk about this?" It's her turn to squirm now. This is as unlike her as anything. She can't remember the last time she volunteered to talk to Niko. But Villanelle isn't Niko.

"No," Villanelle says with a shake of her head. "I said everything I needed to say on the bridge."

"It was a terrible plan," Eve says, her thumb rubbing back and forth against Villanelle's cheek.

As Eve watches, Villanelle presses into her hand like a cat, soaking up every bit of Eve's affection and seeking out more. "I thought it was what you wanted. After Rome. I always try to give you what you want, Eve."

"Oh, Villanelle," Eve sighs. There are a hundred things she can say, an apology, an explanation. None of them feel right. "You can't do that. It won't work. You can't take away my choices."

"I'm sorry I shot you," Villanelle says with a pout. "I was so excited. I knew you were like me. I wanted you to see me and then you-"

"I betrayed you."

Villanelle nods hesitantly. "I didn't think you would hurt me."

"Don't take my choices away," Eve repeats. "Or make my decisions for me, and I won't leave you."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Eve," Villanelle says seriously. "I don't deal well when people break promises."

"I wasn't ready then. I hadn't accepted who I was and until I did that I couldn't accept how you felt about me." Eve takes Villanelle's hand in her own and brings it to her lips. "We killed Dasha. I killed Raymond."

Villanelle wrinkles her nose and makes a so-so gesture with her hand. "Perhaps. It was no one's best work."

"You can show me," Eve says. "How to be better. And I'll show you how to do this the best I can."

"I think I will be better at love than you will at murder," Villanelle declares.

"Will not," Eve retorts but she can't help the giggle that comes spilling out of her in a mixture of relief and exhaustion. Maybe they can survive this.

"I am going to be the best in the world at love. I am very good at whatever I put my mind to. You will see," Villanelle says.

"I will, huh?" Eve asks, slipping off Villanelle and laying down beside her again. She takes Villanelle's arm then pulls it across her body. "Then I guess you'd better keep me warm tonight. And not snore."

"I do not!"

But Eve is laughing even as her eyes fall closed and she curls back into the line of Villanelle's strong body. For this - for Villanelle - she can deal with a little bit of snoring.

(1/1)

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