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Villanelle loves October in England.
It’s the best month for fashion, food, and killing people.
The limitations of summer are over, which means more opportunities to layer. Jumpers come back into play, along with pea coats and bomber jackets, scarves and sweaters, and, best of all, boots.
She has her favourite pair on now, her trusty lace ups that give both the impression of a woman who knows her style and a woman that could step on a man’s neck until it crunches like the crisp autumn leaves scattered underfoot.
She finishes off her vegetable soup full of chunks of butternut squash and pumpkin, and tosses the paper cup and fork into the bin she passes as she nears Eve’s house.
Her job earlier that day had been fun. She got to dress up, got to take a walk through a secluded park, got to drink good coffee.
And they probably won’t find the guy under that huge pile of leaves for days, which is fun too.
Ah, October.
She rounds the corner onto Eve’s street and feels the usual flutter of excitement start in her chest. They’ve been doing this for 7 months, Villanelle dropping by uninvited but pretty much expected by now.
To start with, it was fun literally just scaring Eve. Then it was fun making Eve jump. Then it was fun spending time with Eve. Then it was fun hanging out with Eve like a friend.
Villanelle has never had a friend before.
Two months go, Villanelle got food poisoning. It was disgusting and embarrassing, and she will never eat fish again unless she has prepared it herself.
Eve looked after her. She rubbed her back and sat with her and even held her hair, even though it had sick in it. And then she stayed with Villanelle, slept in the bed bed with her and held her hand.
Even though her hair still had sick in it.
Things have felt different since then.
Warmer? A different feeling in her chest.
It’s not like she’s just coming to realise she likes Eve, or something like that. Of course she likes Eve. A lot. If anyone happened to be following their story like a movie or tv show, Villanelle liking Eve would be the one thing they’d be certain of.
The different feeling is not from Villanelle. It’s from Eve, and it is causing the warmth in Villanelle’s chest. Eve is different now. A good different.
Emotions are quite tiring.
Villanelle yawns as she heads up the stone steps to the familiar front door, and she knocks her usual pattern on the wood.
The flutter is her chest whooshes when the door opens to reveal Eve, smiling.
“Vil! Hey, come in, I was just about to watch a movie.”
Villanelle grins. This October evening could not get any better.
She walks in and shrugs off her red Burberry trench coat and dark grey scarf, hanging them both up on the hooks by the front door before taking a deep breath in.
She’ll never get over how this place just smells of Eve . She can’t even put her finger on what the smell is, which is frustrating because she can usually pinpoint an undertone or highlighting note of any scent that so much as wafts past her, if she tries.
But Eve is just, like, like bonfire night spent indoors watching fireworks through the window and drinking hot chocolate while reading. Bottle that, and it is Eve.
Villanelle unties her boots and kicks them off, leaving her in red and orange striped socks, black jeans and an oversized burgundy sweater from French Connection that lets her ball her fists up inside the loose sleeves.
Eve appears from the kitchen area as Villanelle wanders into the living room, holding a bottle of red wine and two glasses.
“Wine?” Eve asks cheerfully, and Villanelle smiles curiously.
“What are you so chirpy about?”
“Oh, well, y’know,” Eve shrugs, looking a little embarrassed but thankfully still smiling, “it’s autumn! It’s chilly out, and I got the fire going, and… and you’re here. It’s going to be a good evening is all.”
Villanelle bites her lip against the butterflies that flap desperately at Eve’s mention of her. She smiles in thanks as she takes the glasses from Eve, and Eve practically skips around the sofa to sit next to Villanelle, who laughs at this version of her. It is contagious.
“You like autumn?” Villanelle asks.
“You don’t?”
Villanelle presses a hand to her heart, dramatically.
“Are you joking? Autumn is my favourite! The colours, Eve, the colours!”
Eve laughs as she pours them both a glass of red, kicking her feet up and tucking them beneath herself as she settles and takes a sip.
“So, where have you been? I’ve not seen you in like 9 days.”
“Mmm.” Villanelle hums, shrugging one shoulder. “Here and there, for work. Egypt, for a couple of days, that was nice. Scotland until yesterday. Edinburgh is beautiful this time of year.”
“Oh my god, you’re so lucky,” Eve groans. “I love Edinburgh, I’ve not been in years.”
“We will have to go,” Villanelle says in what she hopes is a casual enough tone, “maybe at Christmas? The markets will be open.”
“Yeah,” Eve says slowly, and she hides her mouth behind her glass of wine as if shy, “maybe.”
Villanelle simply smiles at Eve for a moment, letting that warmth simmer pleasantly over her heart, before blinking and clearing her throat a little.
“So, what movie are we watching?”
“Oh, yeah, well, it’s almost Halloween so I figured I’d watch a scary movie.”
Villanelle feels someone turn the dial down on the simmering warmth.
“Uh… what?” She asks, forcing a smile.
“A scary movie?” Eve says with a curious look at her. “You know? Horror, blood, people screaming, spooky monsters?”
“No, I know what a scary movie is, thank you Eve.” Villanelle says with an eye roll. “I just… did not take you for a scary movie sort of person.”
“Why not?” Eve says, genuine interest clear on her face as she looks at Villanelle, who swallows.
“Well,” Villanelle starts slowly, “you were scared of me when we first met, so.”
“Yes, sweetheart, but you were a known assassin slash serial killer.”
“What do you think scary movies are about?” Villanelle asks incredulously, throwing one hand up. “A serial killer going through groups of teens. Often sloppily, I should add.”
Eve chuckles and takes another sip, eyes not leaving Villanelle. She feels very watched.
“Okay, good point.” She concedes with a smile. “But please, I really want to watch this, I love scary movies. I bought popcorn and everything!” She gestures wildly behind her to the kitchen counter where a large bowl of popcorn sits. Villanelle looks back at her, trying to keep the concern off her face.
“But scary movies are so silly!” Villanelle insists, putting her glass on the coffee table and facing Eve fully, one foot on the floor and the other tucked beneath her. “They’re not realistic! I can tell you some stories that will truly frighten you.”
Eve scoffs and places her glass down too, mirroring Villanelle’s position.
“Oh please,” she says while arranging herself on the cushions, “I’ve seen enough of your crime scene photos to not be afraid of your stories anymore.”
“Hmm,” Villanelle hums darkly, lowering her gaze intimidatingly, “did I ever tell you about the time I peeled someone? I flayed him like a wild boar. Alive.”
Eve’s eyes are wide, her mouth hanging open a little, and Villanelle leans back with a smug smirk.
“Cool.” Eve murmurs.
Villanelle’s shoulders slump and she can’t help but chuckle.
“Ugh, you are so weird.” She tells Eve fondly with a shake of her head.
“Okay, we’ll come back to that later, because that sounds… I can’t even wrap my head around you’d do it, so you will have to tell me. But for now? Scary movie time.”
Villanelle wishes she could take back the unhappy little whine she lets out as Eve leans forward to grab a dvd case off the coffee table, but it’s too late. Eve looks over her shoulder at Villanelle, eyeing her suspiciously.
“Vil,” she says slowly, smile growing, “are you scared of horror films?”
“No!” Villanelle barks, grabbing her wine and taking a gulp. “How could I be scared of them? My life is literally a gory thriller.”
“Then you won’t mind watching this movie with me.” Eve says with one quirked eyebrow. “Otherwise you’re welcome to leave if you want? I have my heart set on this and I don’t feel like changing my plans.”
They have a stare off for about ten seconds before Villanelle grumbles, annoyed.
“Fine, whatever.” She says with forced flippancy. “It will probably be boring anyway. What film is it?”
Eve looks delighted, punching the air with the case and then scrambling off the sofa to put the dvd into the player.
“13 Ghosts. It’s kind of old now, but it’s one of my favourites.”
Villanelle swallows.
“13 Ghosts? What is about?”
Eve stands from her place on the floor and fixes Villanelle with a look.
“Well it’s kind of in the name, sweetheart.”
Villanelle purses her lips in a mixture of frustration and nervousness as Eve throws another log into her fireplace, poking at the flames until the wood settles, then she hops through to the kitchen and reappears with the popcorn.
“Ghosts are dumb.” Villanelle murmurs under her breath as Eve places the bowl down.
“Blanket?” She asks Villanelle happily, ignoring her comment.
Villanelle can only nod, still staring straight ahead in annoyance, but she breaks out of it when Eve tosses a balled up blanket at the side of her head.
“Hey!” She laughs, still trying to frown. Eve just shrugs from beneath her own blanket and reaches for the remote.
“You ready, scaredy cat?” Eve teases.
“I am not scared.” Villanelle says with a small and angry pout. “ You are scared.”
“Nice comeback.” Eve chuckles, snuggling down as she presses play.
She skips through the trailers to the title menu as Villanelle gets herself comfortable under the blanket, tugging off her sweater so she’s just in an orange T-shirt in the now warm room.
The movie starts.
“Here we go!” Eve squeaks, and if Villanelle wasn’t so nervous she’d probably make fun of the adorable sound.
But, as it stands, Villanelle is nervous.
No, nervous is not right.
Terrified is more accurate.
Villanelle does not like scary films. Her fantastic acting may have Eve fooled (it does, it definitely does), but deep down Villanelle is scared shitless of horror movies.
Villanelle is not scared of what she does for a living because she is in full control of it all. She makes the plans, the decisions, the kills. In Villanelle’s life, she is the boogeyman, and she likes that.
Plus, there is no creepy string music playing in the background while she sneaks around corners in real life.
In movies, however, in movies she is not in control of what happens. She does not get to make the plan, or the decisions, or the kills. Instead she has to sit and watch someone else do it while having no idea what is going to happen next. Also, ghosts.
And there is creepy string music, like, all the way through.
“Eve?” She whispers, her eyes fixed on the screen.
“Yeah?” Eve whispers back.
“What happens at the end?”
Eve turns her head to look at her, eyes wide.
“Why would I tell you that?” She whispers incredulously.
Villanelle shrugs.
“Just… just watch the movie, Villanelle.” Eve whispers with a shake of her head and a fond smile. “And if you get scared just hold my hand.”
Villanelle glares at the grin and wink thrown her way, and stubbornly turns to face the tv again.
As she watches the weird intro with the slowly spinning room and fire alarms and screaming and a flatline beep, Villanelle burrows herself deeper under her blanket.
Scary movies are stupid.
She thinks about the guy she peeled instead. At least she knows how that ended.
——
There is a man ghost thing with a cage on its head, and Villanelle has faced down some of the nastiest pieces of shit you could dream of, but this thing?
Nope.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck...” She mumbles into the blanket, hands covering her eyes with just a tiny gap to peek through. “What the fuck.”
“I know right?” Eve says, blanket pulled up to her chin and eyes wide. “The Jackal is without a doubt the scariest thing in this movie.”
“The Jackal?” Villanelle whispers shakily.
“The Jackal.” Eve murmurs back with a grim nod of her head.
Villanelle shuffles closer to Eve who immediately repositions herself without looking away from the screen, letting Villanelle get close and lie huddled against Eve’s side. Eve leans on the arm rest, blanket fisted in her hands, ready to pull over her eyes, and Villanelle watches her with a kind of newfound awe at her bravery.
“How can you like this kind of thing?”
Eve just laughs as she looks down at her.
“Are you kidding?”
Villanelle purses her lips.
“Fair enough.” She whispers in acceptance, then looks regrettably back at the screen.
——
“Okay, that is actually a pretty cool idea.”
Eve scoffs, and Villanelle feels Eve’s shoulder jump with it.
“Of course you’d say that about the guy getting sliced in half by a door.” She chuckles. “Want to take notes?”
“No, it is completely unrealistic.” Villanelle murmurs, watching the two halves of the man’s body slide apart. “But I can think of a few things that would work in a similar way and look like a messy accident. One involves an elevator.”
“Your mind.” Eve says with a smile and a shake of her head, eyes going back to the screen as Villanelle presses the side of her head against Eve’s arm again.
But she’s a little happier than before. Eve smiled while commenting on Villanelle’s mind where other people would grimace.
Maybe watching gruesome movies together isn’t such a bad thing.
——
It’s a bad thing, it’s a very very bad thing.
“Eve! Eve turn it off!”
“What?” Eve asks through a gasp at the events on screen. “Don’t be silly, this is the best bit, it’s the climax!”
“I can think of a much more fun kind of climax.” Villanelle squeaks into her blanket, eyes wide with fear but unable to look away.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Villanelle whispers. “When is it over?”
“Shh, Vil, soon! Just watch.”
But god, watching is so not what she wants to do right now. The ghosts are all standing around the circle thing, the giant baby and the princess and the zodiac kid and the fucking Jackal, and there’s so much noise and screaming and fuck that Jackal is literally the worst .
She closes her eyes tight and decides not to open them until it’s over, but as soon as she closes them she just sees that stupid caged head laughing at her, and she opens her eyes with a whimper.
They land on Eve.
She watches Eve watch the movie, desperately traces the lines of her side profile, trying to count any freckles or lines she can make out in the dark. She huddles impossibly closer to her and Eve shifts subconsciously, allowing Villanelle to rest her head on her chest while her arms wrap around Eve like a koala.
She keeps her eyes focused on the cotton of Eve’s tank top and listens intently to the thud of her heart, trying to block out the shrieks and metal clangs happening in the movie. Eve’s heart is beating fast with horror film adrenaline, and Villanelle jumps when she feels something touch her head.
“Just me, don’t panic.” Eve murmurs, still watching the screen with rapt attention.
The hand on the back of her head starts playing with the ends of her hair, soothing but distracted, and Villanelle splits her focus between the thumping heart beat and the soft tug of her hair until she hears the screaming stop and the gentle talking start.
But even then, she doesn’t look. She loses herself in Eve instead.
Eventually she feels Eve’s hand leave her hair to shake her shoulder gentle instead.
“Vil? It’s over, you can let go now.”
But all Villanelle can do is squeak in return, clinging tight.
“Hey, you okay?” Eve asks softly, leaning away from Villanelle to get a look at her face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost! Ha.”
But Villanelle is beyond jokes. She feels all seized up, choked, surrounded.
“What if there are ghosts in here and we can’t see them because we don’t have the special glasses?” Villanelle asks, barely above a whisper.
Eve has moved far enough away now that Villanelle can no longer rest her head on her, so she lifts her head and stares at Eve’s concerned face instead.
“Ghosts aren’t real, V.” Eve says calmly with a small frown. “It’s all made up, it’s not real.”
“How do you know?” Villanelle whispers, and Eve blows out a breath.
“Um, I don’t,” Eve says slowly, carefully, “but I’m pretty certain. Hey, how about I go get another bottle of wine? Calm your nerves a bit, hmm?”
Eve tries to move.
Villanelle won’t let go.
“Jesus, okay, sweetheart? What’s going on?”
And Villanelle really doesn’t want to admit what’s wrong, but she’s currently still trying to cling to Eve like a lifeline and it really is not doing anything for her reputation, so she reluctantly lets go and sits up, allowing Eve to do the same.
“I… do not like scary movies.”
“I mean, yeah,” Eve says with a shrug, “I can see that.”
“No, I mean…” Villanelle huffs and pulls the blanket closer around her shoulders, “I really do not like them. I get... nightmares.”
“Oh god,” Eve says with a sigh, stroking a hand over the fleece blanket lump where Villanelle’s knee is, “why didn’t you just say so? I wouldn’t have made you watch it if I knew you were that scared!”
Villanelle just shrugs and frowns, looking down at the blanket fibres instead of at Eve.
“Because I am a very scary person and I have a reputation to uphold.” She mumbles, and Eve laughs.
“Yes, you’re very scary.” Eve nods, then goes to stand. “Let me get that wine- hey!” Eve falls back onto the couch as Villanelle’s hands drag her back down.
“No! Don’t leave me,” Villanelle says shrilly. “There could be ghosts in here right now! What if the lady with all the cuts and slimy skin is in here, sat on the coffee table, just watching us, and-”
“Villanelle, the movie is not real. Ghosts are not real.”
“You do not know that.” Villanelle hisses, eyes darting around the room wildly. “Please don’t get up, I’m serious. Ghosts are no joke.”
“You’ve murdered tens of people-”
“Hundreds.”
“ Hundreds of people?!”
Eve gawks as Villanelle just shrugs.
“Okay, you’ve murdered hundreds of people... Aren’t you worried they’ll come back and haunt you?”
“No, why would they?”
“Revenge, or something? You’re the one who believes in ghosts, you tell me.”
“Ghosts don’t want revenge.”
“Well then what did those ghosts in the film want?”
Villanelle freezes.
“...revenge.”
“Mhmm.” Eve hums with a satisfied nod. “So, what now?”
“Oh my god.” Villanelle mutters, eyes wide as she looks around the room again. “Oh my god, what if they are all in here?”
“There isn’t room.” Eve huffs, throwing her hands out. “And if he’s in here, at least tell Bill I said hi.”
Villanelle files that comment and its bitter tone away for later, because they are friends now and friends should talk about issues in the friendship, like if one murdered the other’s friend before said friendship started.
But for now she barrels past it.
“Eve, what if they are all crammed in here and touching us right now, all squashed up against us and moaning?”
“I really need more wine if this is how the night is going to continue.” Eve groans. “Please let me up.”
“Eve, I am scared.” Villanelle whimpers, grabbing hold of Eve’s hand. “Please stay.”
She doesn’t need to fake the wide and fearful eyes she throws Eve, genuinely feeling the cold touch of spirits all over her skin except for the warm touch of Eve’s hand.
Eve sighs and pulls Villanelle’s hand into her lap, tracing patterns around her knuckles with her free hand.
“Okay V,” she says calmly, “what can I do?”
“I don’t know.” Villanelle says with another glance around the room before landing back on Eve’s worried face. “Tell me something. Distract me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Whatever!” Villanelle insists, shuffling closer to Eve. They both sit cross legged, facing each other, knees touching. “Anything. Something about you. Like what friends do.”
There’s a flicker of softness in Eve’s eyes then and the corners of her mouth quirk into a small smile as she looks at Villanelle.
“Okay.” She says, and then she looks up as if searching for the words. With an “oh!” she looks back down at Villanelle. “Wanna hear about how Niko and I first met?”
“Ew, what the fuck?” Villanelle says sharply, pulling her head back from slouching towards Eve. “Why would you even suggest that?”
“You wanted a distraction!” Eve says with a laugh. “I mean, it’s already kind of worked.”
Villanelle scowls but Eve doesn’t stop laughing, so she tugs on Eve’s hands hard.
“Ow, hey!”
“A different story, please, Eve.” Villanelle says with a forced smile despite her still nervous posture, and Eve sighs frustratedly.
“Ugh, fine.” Eve sighs, hands still tangled between them, and Villanelle feels that warmth in her chest again, breaking through the uneasy cold fear at the touch. “Wanna hear about my childhood cat?”
“Did it die?”
“I mean, yeah…” Eve says with a confused frown, “obviously. You do know how old I am don’t you?”
“Do you think pets come back as ghosts?” Villanelle whispers worriedly.
“I don’t think Jellybean the cat had any unfinished business.” Eve says as she squeezes Villanelle’s hands reassuringly. “Except maybe finally getting his paws on next door’s koi carp.”
“I used to feed a stray dog when I was a child.” Villanelle says nervously. “He tried to bite me a lot but he was thin, so I shared my food with him. Do you think he is here too? What if he is mad at me for not letting him sleep indoors?”
“I don’t think-”
“What if dog ghosts prowl the streets, snarling and snapping at other ghosts?”
“Villanelle, come on-”
“They’re here, now, watching me. All of them. That man I peeled, his naked muscles showing, the man with the hairpin in his eye, the woman I choked with her own hair.”
“ What ? How-”
“They are going to follow me forever, aren’t they? Any room I enter they will be there, mangled and angry, and they will touch my face while I sleep and moan and groan and wrap their cold hands around my neck-”
“Vil, please-”
“I will never think of anything else ever again. I will forever be surrounded by angry ghosts that will tear me apart and ruin my life and hate me and-”
Her rambling is cut short by the press of Eve’s lips against her own.
It’s an insistent press, warm and firm, clearly a sudden movement meant to stop Villanelle from talking and they both just stay there, suspended in motion for maybe 4 seconds or 4 years, Villanelle can’t be sure.
Eve pulls away first, and Villanelle hears the tiny intake of breath that means Eve is about to launch into an explanation or excuse or something that isn’t kissing Villanelle, which… no.
So Villanelle chases her lips and seals them together again, Eve’s plump bottom lip between her own as she kisses with more purpose than Eve’s initial tool of distraction.
And Eve kisses back.
Villanelle makes a noise in the back of her throat, a satisfied little sigh, and Eve tilts her head to better kiss Villanelle. Her hands suddenly feel useless in their laps, so Villanelle lifts one to gently cup Eve’s cheek, moving the other to rest on Eve’s knee.
Seconds pass, then minutes, the two women simply trading soft kisses with little contented sighs the only sounds in the room, and it is like music to Villanelle. Eve’s hand has reached up to slide over Villanelle’s shoulder, fingertips on the back of her neck, the other covering Villanelle’s own hands on her knee, who smiles a little at the touch of their hands.
When Villanelle feels the touch of Eve’s tongue, she gasps.
She opens her mouth to the woman and suddenly their tongues are pressing, sliding, a careful and choreographed dance that isn’t rushed or sloppy, but a smooth gliding that drags a soft moan from Villanelle and a sigh from Eve. Villanelle uses her hand cupping Eve’s jaw to tilt her head further, giving them both more access while stroking her thumb back and forth over the velvet skin of Eve’s cheek.
They kiss and they kiss, tongues and lips hot and wet, hands warm and steady. Villanelle doesn’t know how long they kiss for, can’t tell how much time has passed spent indulging in each other, and when Eve pulls away she’s not surprised to see swollen lips and flushed cheeks.
She slides her hand back into Eve’s hair and plays with the curls there, rubbing them through her fingers as she stares at blown brown eyes swirling with a delicious cocktail of surprise, apprehension, and heat.
“Are you distracted?” Eve mumbles, the hand on Villanelle’s shoulder smoothing at the fabric of her t-shirt rhythmically.
And Villanelle is confused.
She frowns, curious.
“Distracted from what?”
Eve chuckles, then grips at Villanelle’s t-shirt and tugs her into her space, all warm waves and sparking tension.
“Exactly.” Eve whispers against her lips.
Villanelle doesn’t remember anything but the taste of Eve’s lips, the crackling of the fire, and the softness of the blankets around them.
Ah, October.