a circus ain't a love story
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this is why we can't have nice things, darling
( eve goes ahead and hops out of the frying pan only to launch herself straight into the fire. post-s1 fic, told entirely through phone calls. working title in my gdocs was "the one with all the problematic phone sex" )
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- Part 1 of a circus ain't a love story
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“Hey! I’m talking to you, you asshole. You stabbed me, so get the fuck out of my fucking fridge and answer me!”
Villanelle’s brow wrinkles in an insultingly unconvincing apology when she finally looks away from the fridge. “You have condiments and alcohol,” she tsk’s. “I thought I might make breakfast, but you don’t even have any sausages.”
“Why the hell would I have sausages?”
“Doesn’t everyone?” she asks, with what Eve could swear is genuine confusion.
“This isn’t about... look, would you just shut up about the goddamn sausages!”
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eve plumbs rock bottom to find, oh look! there's still a whole lot more downward left for her to spiral into.
Series
- Part 2 of a circus ain't a love story