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It’s been too long.
Villanelle had said that last night, of course, but it was still true. It had been too long since she’d fulfilled her hunger properly, in a way that left her fully satisfied and happy. The little demon inside of her needed something meatier and more real to snack on.
So she paced the kitchen of her apartment, hoping the repetitiveness of her footsteps grinding into the tile could distract her from the growls swirling inside her gut and the watering of her mouth. But the footsteps just made Villanelle hungrier as her energy drained out her feet. With each step, the kitchen grew infinitely smaller, swallowing her up and surrounding her with the inedible.
Impulsively, she grabbed her deep red coat from the rack and ventured outside into the crisp London air. Maybe escaping the confinement of her kitchen could keep the boredom and aching at bay. As she turned onto the street, Villanelle let the colors and sounds overwhelm her. Her eyes raked over the people, faces laughing, smiling, just living. Their liveliness was startling. The mechanical whirs of cars stopping, sliding, brimming with fuel were deafening in the narrow city block. Shielding the setting sun from her eyes, she placed a stark pale hand against her brow and walked on.
After a few minutes, the feeling began to pass. Villanelle felt grounded in a way that she hadn’t in a few days. Maybe… she thought, I can make it till tomorrow. I can make it till I finish this assignment and can afford to stop laying low, and then I’ll…
But then a woman caught her eye. She was likely rushing home from work, a briefcase swinging haphazardly from her left hand and an untucked wrinkled shirt hung under her sweater. Blond curly hair framed her face, and then accentuated her dark eyes.
The hunger returned rapidly. This glimpse into what she wanted, so close but not quite right, slowly consumed her. It unwound any resolve her short walk had managed to build. It hurt, to know that all that stood between her and what she craved was a hair color.
If only her hair were darker… if only she weren’t so beautifully messy…
“Eve...” Villanelle breathed out, as her vision began to swell and the ground became more tilted. She clamped a hand over her mouth and tried to keep her mind off of the tangy metallic aroma drifting off the people that passed her on the pavement. With her thumb, Villanelle pushed upon her lip and pressed down hard on her left incisor to gain a smidge of relief from this hunger that filled her.
All it took was one stranger in the street to remind her of the one thing she truly wanted.
“Eve...” she said again. Eve Polastri with her cascading black hair. Eve Polastri and her dreamy dark eyes. Eve Polastri and their little game. Eve Polastri locking eyes with her intently.
Villanelle turned the corner and broke into a run. She sank her teeth into the palm of her hand, wishing her skin were someone else's, then wrapped her other arm around her middle and willed herself to believe it was the embrace she’s been seeking.
It worked, in theory, well enough to keep her from offing a poor bloke in an alley before she reached her intended destination. Villanelle slowed her run to a stop in front of a familiar house. Before she could stop herself, she walked up the steps and knocked briskly, praying that someone would open the door.
Her palm was wet now with her own saliva and touch of blood from where her incisor had poked too deeply into flesh. Closing her eyes, she licked the hurt away while a shiver ran down her spine.
When Villanelle opened her eyes, Eve Polastri was standing in the doorway with a startled expression on her face. Her hair was damp, brushing her shoulders and making the collar of her sweatshirt appear darker. Eve opened her mouth slightly, shocked, and Villanelle smiled sweetly.
“Well? Can I come in?” Villanelle said, continuing to stretch her smile wider before brushing past Eve and strolling into her living room. It was nearly tidy, but papers were strewn across the sofa and a stack of dishes towered next to the sink. Villanelle picked up a folder and sat down on a chair in its place.
“Where’s Niko?” She asked. Eve looked at her, still rooted in her doorway.
“He’s away.” she responded simply, and took a step closer. Villanelle tried to hide her lips quirking up into a smile again by taking off her coat and tossing it over the arm of another chair.
“Pity.” Villanelle flashed a fake frown at Eve, “I’m quite hungry.”
Eve didn’t say anything, just watched as Villanelle stood up and began to slowly walk around the room, examining things. Something about being in Eve’s presence eased the little demon in her stomach enough that she could bear to draw this out and really savor it.
“Are you here to kill me?”
Villanelle looked over at Eve.
Eve in her sweatshirt, sockless in the hallway.
Eve and her beautiful neck, her beautiful cheek, her…
“Scared?” Villanelle said quickly.
“No,” Eve finally approached her fully, so that both women stood in the hall only an arm’s length apart. “You?”
“Never.” Villanelle smiled. “I’m just hungry.”
“Hungry?”
“So hungry, Eve. So tired, so lonely.”
“I should call Carolyn.”
“Don’t.” Villanelle snapped, acting jokingly offended, and firmly matched Eve’s gaze. A moment passed.
“So stay.” Eve touched her cheek. “You’re shaking.”
Villanelle closed her eyes and breathed. The room smelled sickly sweet, like sugar had caramelized and encrusted everything at once. She ran her tongue over her teeth, and winced as her incisors dropped down fully and scraped her tongue.
“Villanelle…” Eve moved her thumb further across her cheekbone. She opened her eyes, but everything stayed black and her spine slumped forward. “What’s wrong?”
“I want you.” Villanelle whispered. Her vision came back briefly, but it still wasn’t quite clear. She rolled her head forward so that it was on Eve’s shoulder.
“You want me.” Eve repeated, snaking an arm around Villanelle’s back.
“Not to kill. Not to hurt. Just a taste.”
“A taste?”
Villanelle moved her head and looked at Eve, letting her see the tears beginning to gather in the corner of her eye (so tired, so hungry, so frustrated) and used her index finger to push her lip up fully. Her fangs glistened, and extended to their fullest length.
“So bland.” she whispered. “Everyone but you.”
Eve swallowed, and Villanelle could smell the fear wash over her briefly. But it passed as quickly as it came and Eve put her hand back on Villanelle’s cheek, moving her thumb to touch her left fang.
“What do you want, Villanelle?” Eve asked.
You. She thought. I need to touch you now or I might go crazy. You and your skin so perfect it makes everyone else look merely like pottery. You and your fleeting beating heart. Everything… you...blood.
Villanelle ducked her head down into Eve’s shoulder again and angled her mouth so her fang scraped along Eve’s neck and sucked.
Gently, so gently it won’t hurt. I can’t hurt her.
“I want to taste you, Eve.” Villanelle touched the other side of Eve’s neck with a cold hand, “I want your everything.” She dug her nails in a bit further and a sigh escaped her.
“Yes.” Eve breathed, her eyes closing, “Have me. Right here, Right now.”
Villanelle smiled and sucked Eve’s neck again, this time with more conviction so that her mouth filled and watered fully. Her fangs twitched as she pressed them into Eve’s neck, breaking the flesh ever so slightly.
Eve’s taste finally finally filled her mouth.
So good. So sweet. So satisfying.
You’re my forbidden fruit. She thought, twisting her neck deeper and pressing her hand against Eve’s chest so she could feel the other woman’s quick intake of breath.
You’re my forbidden fruit, Eve. You’re beautiful, and bad, and good, and everything all at once. You’re human, you’re messy, you’re selfish, you’re kind.
Villanelle felt a drip of Eve’s blood slide down her chin as she pulled away. Her little demon is full again, and her turmoil has stopped for now. Eve’s eyes are still closed and her arm is still wrapped around Villanelle’s waist. Her vampiric desire may have left, but there was still something else aching in her chest.
So Villanelle cupped Eve’s cheek and kissed her. Eve opened her mouth slowly, and moved her hand up into Villanelle’s hair, sliding through the smooth blonde strands to cup the back of her head. When they pulled away, the blood made their lips and the blush spreading across their cheeks look even redder.
“You taste like apples, Eve.” Villanelle whispered into Eve’s ear, “I didn’t hurt, I didn’t change you, I didn’t…”
“Shh…” Eve sighed. “I liked it. I like you, Villanelle.”
Villanelle pressed her forehead into Eve’s and clutched her wrists. So good. So safe. So soft.
“I only feel alive when I’m with you. Everywhere else I’m already dead, starving, rotting.”
“Stay.” Eve said. “Live.”
Villanelle kissed her again, rougher this time, with enough force that she pressed Eve into the wall. Her hand slipped under her shirt so she could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. Then their lips parted, as Eve ran her tongue over her slowly retracting fangs, lapping up the last taste of sweetened metallic blood. Villanelle smiled into Eve’s mouth as satisfaction travelled down her body.
“I’m alive.” Villanelle whispered, and then bit Eve’s lip playfully, possessively. “I’m satisfied.”
Eve smiled, and touched Villanelle’s neck: “So am I.”
Villanelle shuddered, Eve bites.
A pinch, a shock of pain, a flush of red.
“You’re mine.”