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“Eveee! I am dying. Help me!” Villanelle cries for the fourth time today.
Eve rolls her eyes and continues to eat her popcorn, trying to focus on her movie instead of Villanelle’s histrionics. The online rental was only 48 hours, and this was her third interruption—not including last night. Not that Eve was complaining, but Villanelle didn’t even let her make it past the opening credits before ripping her clothes off. It had been a long night to say the least. Eve grimaces as she rotates her shoulder, trying to recall why she encouraged shower-sex.
Villanelle stalks into the living room and stands in front of the TV, looking at Eve with pitiful puppy-eyes, “Eve, did you not hear me calling you? I am hurting here! I thought you were supposed to care about me!”
Eve sighs as she tries to look around Villanelle’s lean frame. “Honey, you’re just being dramatic. Take some pain meds and come watch a movie with me.”
“You should never tell a woman on her period that she’s being dramatic; it upsets them.” Villanelle says, eyes narrowing at Eve.
This time, instead of rolling her eyes, Eve tries for the patient approach. “Vill, baby, please forgive me. I was completely insensitive. Never mind the fact that I, too, am a woman with a uterus. I’m sorry, baby. Now, if you could just sit down, I’ll rub your stomach while we watch the movie.”
“Our bodies are not the same! I cannot sit down, Eve! My asshole hurts!” Villanelle explodes, looking quite “menacing” in Eve’s Moana-themed pajama pants.
Eve scoffs, averting her eyes as she tries not to outright laugh in her face. She doesn’t know why Villanelle acts the same way every month. Last month, they were on an ice-cream run when a man decided to harass Eve while Villanelle was in the restroom. She isn’t too sure what happened, but Eve doubts the man fared well after Villanelle witnessed the altercation and told her to go home. Villanelle came back to their shared house an hour later with a fresh carton of rocky road and a questionable rust-colored stain on her boots.
Eve has to stop herself from getting turned on as she remembers the amazingly possessive way Villanelle ate her out after she got home.
“Eve, are you listening?” Villanelle yells with a pout. “If you want me to die, just say so!”
This time, Eve can’t stop her eyes from rolling no more than she can stop loving her bratty assassin. “I’m listening, sweetheart. If I wanted you to die, I would have finished the job long ago.” Eve looks pointedly at Villanelle’s side.
Villanelle’s hand flies to her scar and she rubs it gently, excitement prickling at her skin. The ragged pink mark was a souvenir of Eve’s love. They pushed and protected each other fiercely, and she loved her with every fiber in her being. “Are you trying to turn me on? If you are, it’s working.”
Eve throws her head back with a laugh. It’s a sight Villanelle will never get bored of seeing. “No, sweetheart. I just want you to stop being such a big baby so I can finish this. I’m not paying another five bucks!”
“I can buy you all the movies in the world. Besides, I am your baby,” Villanelle pouts. “So, I will not shut up and I don’t care about your movie because you don’t care about my aching asshole.” She smirks at Eve’s grimace.
Eve’s face goes blank before looking at Villanelle seriously, “I’ll trade you.” The determined look in Eve’s eyes effectively grabs Villanelle’s attention.
“Go on.”
“One tub of ice cream for two hours of relative silence while I finish this movie.”
Villanelle crosses her arms, running the agreement over in her mind. “Fine. Make it lemon meringue flavor.”
“Deal!” Eves smiles giddily and opens the blanket for Villanelle to join her. The taller woman lays on her side and rests her head on Eve’s lap.
Villanelle smiles as Eve runs calming fingers through her hair. She will lure Eve into a false sense of security by being quiet for thirty minutes before sneaking Eve’s pants off and pleasing her woman. After all, she always gets her way. She smirks to herself, tapping her hand silently to the opening song in Trolls World Tour.