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While on the run to the course she was organising, Villanelle picked up the mail from the letterbox. It left her mind completely, forgotten at the bottom of her bag and only when everyone left the venue she reserved for the day, did she find it.
Right in the middle of eating a sandwich that Eve prepared for her for lunch, her fingers slide against the paper in the bag. She takes the mail out and starts to page through them, most irrelevant, like spam and bill. However, she stops at the sight of a Russian stamp and her father's name.
Ever since she visited them a year ago, none of them has spoken up, no emails, no texts, no calls.
So, for a long moment, she just freezes, fingers holding the letter turning white from the pressure. It takes a couple of calming breaths before she rips the envelope apart and unfolds the letter. When she reads everything, her sight turns red and she blinks several times to get rid of tears. Back into the bag, she hides it away and collects her things. There is a place she can go and find comfort.
“What are you doing here?”
Konstantin is behind the bar, cleaning glasses with a cloth and the pub is almost completely empty, aside from two men in the corner and a woman nursing her drink a couple of stools away.
Villanelle falls onto the seat with a grunt and sighs loudly. Resting her chin on her hand, she taps her nails with the other hand on the counter, “Nice to see you, too.”
He shakes his head and smiles, putting the glasses away, “Alright. How are you, Villanelle?”
“Make me some fancy drink.”
At that, his gaze turns alarmed and he stops from going to the other woman who waves at him, “It’s not even 2 o’clock.”
That’s the first moment when she questions if coming here was the right choice; her hand that reached into the bag stops when their eyes meet. Konstantin is scared for her; she’s seen this look many times before she moved to London and he was back in Russia, too. He was the one to pick her up, drunk or high, he was the one to carry her home and throw himself with her in his arms to the bath, shoving the shower head at her face to awake her from the maddening daze. He was the one to help her get a passport and get the hell away from the place that kept turning her into a dead woman walking.
And it’s been years since an accident like this, so she has to understand this fear. Terror the bad things are coming.
She is not as reckless as the person she used to be. She carries the responsibility to keep herself afloat - it’s even more important after Konstantin and his family have been in a terrible car accident which ended in his wife dying. She knows she can’t leave or fall by the wayside, not when this man has been through enough.
But with that letter, which she finally takes and places on the counter, only he will understand.
Konstantin knew her family before she moved to the UK; perhaps even too well. He saw all the shadows that crept into Villanelle’s family household.
“Not too early for a drink, though,” She says.
He gives her one last look and then goes to a new client. Only then, he prepares her a Watermelon Sangria.
“What happened?” He asks after she raises the glass and sips the cold drink.
“Read it,” Villanelle moves the envelope towards him. “Read everything.”
She sounds way too much broken and she watches as he unrolls the creased paper, reading about everything. About the fact her mother died and the last thing she did before her death was disinheriting Villanelle and about how her father, despite still living, went to the notary to do the same. About how he never wants to see her and she should never cross the border of Russia until he is still alive.
About Villanelle being the worst thing that could ever happen to her parents, about the loathing they feel towards her.
Konstantin’s face turns dark with every sentence, and his chest rises and falls quickly with anger. When he is finished, Villanelle’s glass is empty, only ice cubes left and there are silent tears falling down her face.
“When did you get this?” His face turned stormy.
Villanelle wipes the tears away, “This morning.” Her voice is tight; she tries to keep it together. “Make me another one.”
And for the first time, Konstantin doesn’t argue but proceeds to prepare another drink and another and another, until Villanelle manages to smile and laugh at something stupid. She doesn’t even keep up with what she is drinking, she just keeps on doing that to keep the demons away from her mind.
She can’t remember when it got dark outside and when more people entered the pub, but suddenly it’s loud here and laughter surrounds her. She just keeps on drinking, under Konstantin’s careful eye.
“I think that’s enough,” He tells her sometime after seven. “Eve will pick you up?”
“Oh,” She suddenly realizes she has not checked her phone ever since the course. “She doesn’t know I’m here.”
“What do you mean she doesn’t know?”
“I’ve come to you first,” Villanelle says and his eyes soften looking at her, eyebrows pulled together.
At some point, she thought about calling Eve. But she promised to help Bill with something and Villanelle felt like it would be throwing a burden at her, especially when she was busy. And she hates being so helpless, almost defenceless, to the point when Eve has to react; she hates the way Eve’s face turns so broken when Villanelle is in pain. She is supposed to be a strength for her girlfriend, someone heroic and courageous. Not this shell of a girl drowned in sorrow and alcohol.
Konstantin disappears in the employees’ backroom and she waits for him to come back. When she peeks inside, she sees him with a phone by his ear.
“Who are you calling?” She calls out but he ignores her.
When he is not looking, she slips away and heads to the restroom. With no one there, she pulls out the letter and reads it again; the words keep mixing and blurring, and her heart aches. Some part of her thought she was already over it, ever since she visited her parents and found nothing but heartache with them.
After a couple of minutes, Konstantin finds her and pulls her outside, back at her barstool. Sitting there again, for the first time she feels the exhaustion after going through so many emotions, from anger to shame to pity, back and forth, on and on. Her eyelids feel heavy and her body stops feeling like hers. Just when she is sure she will fall asleep, right then and there, a familiar voice brings her out.
“Villanelle?”
She turns back sharply, her ass falling from the stool.
“Eve?” She feels caught as if she lied or tried to hide something. Perhaps she wanted to.
“I was sick with worry!” Eve’s eyes are widened and eyebrows furrowed as she reaches with her hand to catch Villanelle. “I’ve been calling you and trying to contact you. Where- Why are you here? Why haven’t you come back home?”
Now, Konstantin’s phone call makes sense. Villanelle turns back at him and hopes he sees the sense of betrayal in her eyes.
“I needed a break,” She murmurs.
“From what?” Eve asks, unsureness making her voice shake. “From me?”
“What? No!” Villanelle’s voice gets louder and she has trouble expressing herself clearly. “It’s just…”
Konstantin goes around the bar and meets them by their side, “Eve, take her home. Talk there, she’s had a rough day.”
Eve takes the bag he hands her and zips it up, one hand carries it and the other entangles around Villanelle’s middle and moves them towards the exit.
It’s cold outside and Eve takes off her coat and throws it over Villanelle’s shoulders, hoping it will keep her warm. The beginning of March in London is harsh, with slush on the streets and cold rain, even more, unpleasant in the dark evenings and nights, everything is soggy and lacks comfort. Only under the roof of one’s home, the end of the winter can be bearable. Eve hates this time of the year, Villanelle, however, enjoys it. She’s taken notice by now that Vil loves most of the things about London and perhaps Eve should learn that from her, too.
But during their walk back to their flat, Villanelle is barely keeping up with what they’re doing. Like she doesn’t care at all.
They’re back home after ten minutes or so and Eve helps Villanelle take off her high-heel brown boots and toss the coat, then helps her fall onto the couch while she emerges to the kitchen to put on the kettle. When she is back within a matter of seconds, Villanelle has already fallen apart.
She is sitting on the floor, head burrowed into the couch as she tries to turn down the sobbing coming from her throat.
“Baby,” Eve immediately crouches by her side, hugging her from behind. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
Villanelle mumbles something into the orange fabric of the couch.
It takes some strength but Eve pulls her away and turns so they face each other. And Villanelle, she is… a mess. Mascara marks down her cheeks and eyelids, eyeliner making dark circles around her eyes, her lips are red from biting them and she has a runny nose. Yet, Eve thinks at that moment she could not love a person more than she loves Villanelle right now.
“It hurts, Eve,” She whimpers and tries to hide her face in her hands.
“Vil, what hurts?” Eve realizes Villanelle is drunk, but it’s not the state that makes her unable to hold a conversation. All she has to do is find a way through that maze of tangled thoughts and get through to her, and Eve knows she can do that. “Talk to me, okay? I’m here to listen.”
When she presses a gentle kiss on Villanelle’s lips, that seems to sober her up.
“Go get my bag,” She says and points towards the corridor.
Eve is back with it quickly and while Villanelle searches through its contents, Eve moves the coffee table enough so they can keep sitting on the floor but on the carpet and not the cold panels.
Then, Villanelle's hand holds up a piece of paper and she gives it to Eve.
“It’s a letter, from my dad,” She explains.
Eve stares at it for a while and then a small smile curls on her lips, “It’s in Russian, V. I can’t read it.”
“Oh,” Villanelle opens her mouth and her surprise turns into a peal of loud laughter. “Right. I’ll translate it for you.”
Clearing her throat, she tries to keep calm when she starts off somewhere in the middle, far enough to get into the most important part and early enough so it makes sense.
“Your mother has passed away on the night 2nd of March and as her last will and testament, she decided to disinherit you from this family and any legacy. I’ve decided to do the same and contacted my notary and disinherited you, too. You mustn’t visit our house or contact anyone in the family, and it’s best for you to not cross the Russian border ever again. There is no one wanting you here or hoping you show up. You’re the only thing I regret creating and you’re an abomination and shouldn’t wear Astankova's last name.”
When she is finished, there are fresh tears in her eyes as she looks up to find Eve’s mad stare. It lingers between something heartbroken and anger set alight on fire.
“You’re… Oksana,” Eve takes the paper from her hands. “You’re not any of the things he called you. You are the only Astankova worth that name. They don’t deserve you.”
“I’m their child, I’m his child… You are supposed to love your family, aren’t you? So why mine doesn’t?”
Eve takes a look at the letter and does what her heart tells her - rips it apart.
“You don’t need them,” Eve tells her, putting the torn-apart letter on the floor and shifting closer to Villanelle. “You never did. This-” She points at the paper. “This doesn’t change anything.”
“But don’t you understand?” Villanelle’s voice breaks. “I don’t have a family anymore. I know we haven’t been talking for a long time, but still, they were there. But now, they left me. They hate me. My mom is dead. And when she was alive, the only thing she remembered about me is how she didn’t want me. I’ve always wanted to be my mother’s daughter and, they never even let me try, Eve. I swear I tried, my whole life.”
And just like that, she is turning into a sobbing ball of despair, curling on Eve’s lap, her chest shaking, limbs trembling.
“Vil, listen to me,” Eve whispers in a calming tone. She holds her in her arms, rocking back and forth and trying to give her all the comfort she can. “I know you tried. But it’s time to stop trying to be loved by people who never deserved a minute of knowing you. You have a family, here, in London. You’re not alone, you’re never going to be alone. Not when I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise?” It sounds so small and broken that it crushes Eve’s heart.
“I promise, baby,” She whispers, kissing the top of her head.
They get to their bed together and Eve undresses Villanelle from the dirty clothes from all day and puts on a black oversized T-shirt. It’s far from what Vil usually wears for her sleep, but she knows she feels safer with something that smells like Eve, so T-shirt it is. Hidden under the covers, Eve leaves to the kitchen and makes a hot tea for the two of them.
By the time she is back, Villanelle is snoring and looking at her soft features, poor swollen eyes and lips, Eve makes a decision. She knows she has to prove to Villanelle she does have a family. Even a greater one than the one that abandoned her.
Villanelle started to love her birthdays from her nineteenth one - the first one she spent in London with Konstantin. From then on, the 12th of March has become one of the most anticipated dates in her life; every time when she wakes early in the morning from excitement, she wants to dance and sing and eat all the cake she can get.
And birthdays with Eve. That is a dream come true.
That’s why she feels disappointed when she wakes up and sees the other side of the bed is empty. Creeping into the kitchen, she hopes to see a surprise. Yet the flat turns out to be empty and there is a note on the kitchen counter.
i’ll be back later, needed to run some errands
love you, Eve
No happy birthday. Nothing. Villanelle feels her shoulders slumping and the corners of her mouth turn down.
While she gets ready after deciding she won’t spend the day sulking; she puts on a silk long-sleeved top in a shade of soft pink, and pants from one of her suits, also pink but much darker and richer in a colour, that fits nicely her bum but lets loose by the ankles. Big golden necklace and earrings and soft makeup, in the pinky and peachy shades, to match it all. Half of her hair she lets wild and half ties it in a neat bun to expose the slender curve of her neck.
As she is putting on the pink lipstick, her phone calls. She hopes to see Eve’s name but it’s Amber.
“Hello?”
“Happy birthday!” Amber yells into the phone, loud enough to make Villanelle deaf.
She smiles, though, widely and by that ruins her lipstick, “Thank you. You’re the first one.”
“I’ve finally won,” Amber calls out, happily.
She and Eve have been in a war for the last three years of who will wish Vil happy birthday first. Eve always won because it only took for the clock to strike midnight and there she was, in bed, right next to her to whisper her wishes.
Last night, though, Eve has fallen asleep early and was gone in the morning. Amber got her chance.
Before Villanelle can answer, the woman continues:
“Listen, I’m waiting outside, let’s go birthday shopping!”
Villanelle stands up and looks outside the window, and there her friend is, dressed in a leopard print coat and waving at her.
“Give me five,” Vil says and hangs up.
They spend half of the day shopping and take two breaks. One to eat lunch and one to buy a mini cake for Villanelle to blow the candles and have her wish. No one calls her, no one texts her and at some point, she wonders if it’s her birthday for sure; Amber asks her a couple of times if everything is alright and she nods and smiles tightly.
But something is definitely up and she has no idea how to find what. Eve doesn’t pick up, even when she calls her for the third time.
Buying things keeps her mind off the matter for some time, enough to have fun and let go of any worries. After five hours of it, she has at least ten bags of clothes and tries not to think that Eve will end up killing her after finding out.
“Maybe we could go to your place?” Amber asks as they start their slow stroll towards the bus stop.
“I haven’t cleaned up today,” Villanelle says. “But if you don’t mind, I guess we could.”
Some part of her wants to decline and lock up in the bedroom, feeling the loneliness of everyone forgetting about her. It’s always at the back of her mind, to just disappear and let the pity swallow her while listening to sad Taylor Swift, preferably the album Red.
Instead, she picks herself up on her own and agrees for Amber to come with her.
The ride back home is quiet because Amber spends the whole time texting on her phone with a stupid smile. Villanelle is actually afraid to ask if she’s met another stupid man, so after settling ignorance is bliss, she stays silent, too.
She enjoys that they don’t have to talk all the time, it’s one of the things she cherishes most in this friendship. Originally, they became friends because Amber was an almost everyday client of her and Eve’s florist shop and honestly, she is the only friend that’s only Villanelle’s. The rest of her friends she’s met through Eve, and Konstantin now keeps in touch with her girlfriend as much as with V.
She likes it that way, where Amber is her friend and that’s that. She’s never had a friend like this, who liked her immediately for who she is, without any doubts.
They get through the florist shop and climb up the stairs to the flat. Villanelle turns the key in the door but it appears to be open, so she fiddles with the door for a second. Pressing the handle, it opens.
She kicks off the boots, puts the paper bags down and stumbles through the corridor, right into the living room. Amber is right behind her and is the one to turn on the lights. That’s when everyone jumps out from behind the furniture, yelling out her name and screaming happily.
“Happy birthday, baby!” Eve is the first to move from behind the couch and open her arms for Villanelle who freezes, wide-eyed and pressing her hands to the open mouth.
“Eve?” She manages to croak out when the shorter woman embraces her and presses kisses on both of her cheeks.
“It’s a surprise,” Eve smiles, stepping back and putting her hands on Villanelle’s face. “For you.”
Before she can answer Amber hugs her from behind, “It was a nightmare pretending I didn’t see you sulking the whole day!”
“You knew?” Villanelle raises her eyebrows.
“Of course!”
Then, Elena runs up to her excitedly with a bouquet of flowers bigger than her head and kisses her cheek, “Happy birthday, Villanelle.”
“Thank you,” She smiles as her brain slowly catches up to what’s happening.
Next is Kenny, Hugo, Bill with his wife Keiko and at the end, Konstantin is patiently holding with some paper in his hands, Irina by his side.
“And what’s that, old man?” She asks and tries to peek.
“My present,” He says, hugging her.
She embraces him tightly and hides her nose in the material of his pleated shirt. They rock to both sides but eventually part and he gives her the paper. Irina is looking like she barely keeps the secret inside, standing on Konstantin’s left and keeping her eyes wide.
It’s written in Russian and Villanelle needs to read it three times to take it in.
“I… I don’t think I understand,” She manages to say.
“I’m adopting you,” Konstantin says. “Well, you’re 27, so it’s not legal here, but it can be a contract between the two of us. Only if you want to. Then you can sign it and we have a deal.”
Her eyes fill up with tears and her hands holding the paper shake, just as Eve approaches them, eyes gleaming with happiness.
“Did you know?” She asks her.
Eve nods, “Konstantin asked me first about that and I thought it’s the right thing to do. But it’s up to you to decide.”
“Obviously,” Villanelle throws up her hands in the air and laughs through tears. “Yeah, yeah. Somebody give me a pen!”
She sits on the couch and someone hands her the said pen and she signs there and then, no matter how much her hand shakes. When her name is signed, everyone cheers and Hugo starts to ring with the party blower and Amber opens a bomb with confetti, making a colourful rain over their heads. Konstantin steals her away in another embrace and Irina is right next to them.
Villanelle glances down at her and smirks, ”Sisters?”
Irina scoffs and turns around.
When everyone is busy, Eve sneaks out with Bill to the kitchen and they come back with an enormous pink cake, with twenty-seven candles burning bright.
“I’m matching it!” Villanelle squeals and twirls around in her pink outfit then claps several times.
She can’t remember the last time her heart was burning so bright and strongly; she smiles so widely that her cheeks begin to hurt and from each side, there are people who cherish her, who love her. She can just feel that in her bones, that unconditional love around with the way they smile at her and seem to emanate the same excited energy, just happy to be here for her and celebrate another year of her life.
She’s never had something like this, something so sincere and pure. So when they place the cake on the table and she leans down to blow the candles, she takes one more look around her, everyone counting on her. And with one (and a half, but she pretends it doesn’t count) breath she blows all the candles and they all clap.
Eve hands her a big knife and she cuts up the cake into slices for everyone. It’s vanilla-strawberry and Villanelle eats her portion within a minute.
Someone plays music on the stereo set by the TV and they pour champagne for everyone.
“I want to make a toast,” Eve says when they all gather in the living room. “Obviously for Villanelle, she is a star tonight.”
“Correct,” Villanelle nods, bringing on a serious face but then when everyone laughs at her, she joins them.
“But also for something else, since we are here together what almost never happens,” Eve looks around at everyone. “I want to make a toast for family. A one not bonded by blood but by honest love. So, for us, to stay together for as long as possible. Forever and more.”
“Yes!” They stand up and clink the glasses together.
Eve’s eyes fall on Villanelle whose gaze immediately finds her. They look at each other, drinking and Villanelle fights with the urge to walk over the table and steal away and kiss until she bruises her all over, and then some more. This woman made her want to live until old age, despite Vil used to believe she won’t even survive until her twenties. She pushed her to change into someone better, someone wiser and the love between them - is absolute and unconditional.
But there are guests to take care of, so she pulls her eyes away and finishes her champagne.
A couple of hours later everyone has their places and talks in small groups; Eve is in the kitchen with Hugo and Kenny, joking and laughing, and Konstantin talks with Bill and Keiko while Irina escaped to the office where they keep their whole collection of books. Villanelle watches it from the balcony that is right above the entrance to their shop, with Elena by her side, both of them in jackets and smoking.
“We’re thinking about marriage,” Elena suddenly says, breathing out the smoke. “Kenny and I.”
Vil turns her head quickly and raises her eyebrows, “Are you for real?”
“Yeah, I think yes.”
“Well, if that’s what you both want, it must be the right choice,” Villanelle says. “We all could use a big party. What kind of vibe do you want for the wedding? And the reception? You look like a boho kind of bride-”
“Villanelle, stop,” Elena laughs. “If we were to hold a reception, it would be small and modest.”
“Boring!”
“A small gathering feels right, just the closest family. I’m not as fancy as you.”
“Eh, you are almost as fancy as me,” Villanelle turns around and rests her forearms on the railing. “A wedding in a big Italian villa, everything in white, the building covered in ivy, hot temperature. That’s how I see it.”
“I think you are talking about your wedding, babe,” Elena takes the same position; they stand arm in arm.
“I am not planning any wedding for myself,” Villanelle sighs. “Yet.”
“Yet?”
“I mean, me and Eve… it’s been five years and it’s good as ever,” Villanelle looks up at the sky full of stars but doesn’t dare to dream, despite it being her birthday. “What if that would ruin everything?”
Elena looks at her, gaze turns soft and she leans closer to her, nudging her, “I’ve known Eve for almost a decade and I can assure you, that deep inside, all she wants is to tie herself forever with the one she loves the most. When she was younger, she talked about it more. Now life made her cynical, I guess, you know how her past looks.”
Villanelle nods.
She knows there was someone before her, someone who Eve married - but one day, she found him in bed with his coworker and her life fell apart for a long time.
But then, she met Villanelle. And everything changed.
“I don’t want to scare her away.”
“She is not that easy to terrify.”
“Hopefully.”
They say goodbye to everyone before midnight and with a soft song playing in the background, clean up the whole house. Side by side, they work like a four-legged and two-headed machine, swift and mechanical. No one says a word as they wash the dishes and dry them, vacuum the dirty with crumbs carpet and hide the leftovers in the fridge.
Eve turns around to hide a platter in the cupboard but is met with Villanelle blocking it, hands crossed on her chest.
“What?” Eve furrows her eyebrows and tries to get through her.
Villanelle stops her and takes the plate away and puts it on the counter; then, her hands settle on Eve’s hips and she pushes her towards the kitchen island.
Stuck between it and Villanelle, Eve looks up and brushes a blonde strand out of her face. Her hand gently cups her face, thumb lingering over the pink lips.
“I want my present,” She says and moves her head down, taking the finger into her mouth and sucking on it.
Eve’s mouth opens slightly and she presses her thighs together, watching Villanelle bob her head up and down and feeling her tongue swirling around the finger.
“This dress is a crime, Eve,” Villanelle says after letting the finger out of her mouth. “I thought about taking you right there and then, over the table.”
“I knew you would like it,” Eve says, cocky tone despite the blush blooming on her ears and chest.
“Of course, you did,” Villanelle glances up and down, taking in every centimetre of her body with the blue dress fitting Eve like a second skin. “It’s the best birthday I’ve had and we’re not even at my favourite part.”
Eve is the one to break through the trance they fall into while staring into each other’s eyes. She takes Villanelle’s hand and leads her through the flat, right to the bedroom. She turns on the lamp, the dim light falling over the room.
Villanelle comes closer but doesn’t see their roles changing so quickly - one moment she is leaning down to kiss Eve, and the other she is thrown onto the sheets, while Eve stands above her, one knee by Vil’s side, her hands on her shoulders to keep the balance.
“And what do you want for your birthday?” Eve’s voice is husky and Villanelle swears if it could be turned into something physical, it would feel like satin. “For me to fuck you?”
“No,” Villanelle shakes her head and breaths in deeply. “Not at all. I want you to make love to me.”
Within a second, Eve’s stare turns soft and she sits down on Villanelle’s lap, her dress hiking up to her hips.
“Alright, baby,” Eve let their lips meet for the first time. It’s supposed to be a quick peck, but then Villanelle’s tongue slips inside her mouth and she opens it completely, just to meet her in this dance. None of them can tell when they fall onto the bed, too busy with each other.
Villanelle runs her hands over the exposed skin on Eve’s back, where the dress is deeply cut, her nails making delicate white lines everywhere. Then, one of her hands brushes through the black locks, touching the scalp and making Eve moan into the kiss.
She moves back, panting, with her chest moving rapidly. Villanelle watches her, wide-eyed and only whimpers when Eve rocks against her abdomen and starts undoing the buttons of her pink blouse.
She sits up abruptly, making Eve quickly catch, holding onto her not to fall.
“You are so gorgeous,” Villanelle whispers, mesmerized, not daring to move an inch.
Her eyes glisten, tears almost falling.
It reminds Eve of the last night she saw Villanelle cry and wants to just keep her in this amber, safe from the outside. She tangles her hands around her neck and rests her forehead against the blonde's.
“So are you,” Eve says. “I love you so much. Remember that always, okay?”
Villanelle nods and closes her eyes, making the tears drop.
“Thank you for today,” She murmurs. “Now, I believe in it. In our family.”
They stay like this for a moment, taking it in but then fall into a series of giggles when they roll onto the sheets and Villanelle tries to turn them around to be on top. They laugh while kissing, but eventually, Villanelle manages to do what she craves. Which means - to have Eve beneath her, the dress half-taken off.
But Eve is way too busy trying to undress Villanelle to care about her state of decency. The blouse is off and the pants are stuck somewhere by the knees as she tries to kick them off, wiggling funnily.
“Just- V, can you take them off?”
Villanelle laughs but does as she is told, which doesn’t happen often. To make it even, she practically rips the dress off Eve and pushes herself lower, at the level of her panties. Keeping eye contact, she takes the hem of them between her teeth and slowly pulls it down.
“Now you’re just showing off!” Eve says after thirty seconds that seem to turn to infinity.
“Sure I am,” Villanelle grins when the black knickers are thrown somewhere behind them, on the floor.
Next are the rest of the undergarments and when their naked limbs tangle as Villanelle pushes herself on top of Eve, chests pressed together. She feels Eve’s teeth biting onto a pulse point on her neck and she leans her head back.
It takes all of her self-preservation to sit up and spread Eve’s legs apart. In a moment, Villanelle slips her right leg over Eve’s left and her pussy brushes against Eve’s, and they both see the stars. She rolls her hips sensually, making their clits touch and wetness mix together.
“Evie,” Villanelle whimpers, her hands on Eve’s chest, playing with her nipples as she starts to ride her.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” Eve says and thinks she could come from only watching the way Villanelle’s tits bounce and her eyes roll back. “So good. Give it to me, just like that.”
Villanelle moans, shivers running down her spine; she doesn’t let Eve have her easy like that, but tonight is one of those rare nights when she wants to hear how good she is without any shame. Wants to make up to Eve for every sin and every mistake, let her have it her way and exactly how she wants to ruin Villanelle.
“You look so pretty like that,” Eve’s voice now shakes when she starts to rise her hips to meet V halfway, more friction between the two of them. “Look at me, Oksana. Look at me.”
She whimpers but manages to open her eyes and see the haze in Eve’s, cheeks with blooming blush, soft pink.
There is a request hidden behind Villanelle’s ones and Eve reads it immediately. Villanelle sometimes wants to cry because of how easy it is to be with Eve, and how much comfort it brings. It’s the only safe place she ever found and the only one she ever wants.
“What’s that, baby?” Eve asks.
“I want…” Villanelle blinks and bites her bottom lip to stop the groan when she moves just right and her pussy pulsates and she tries to clench around nothing. “I want to finish underneath you.”
Eve smiles and cups her cheek as they slow down the tempo, “Of course, birthday girl.”
They switch and Villanelle curls her toes from excitement when Eve covers her face in sweet kisses and sucks onto that delicate place beneath her ear. The birthday sex they had before was nothing like this; she usually was so horny she hopped onto any occasion to fuck wherever they could, once even on the counter in their shop while it was open.
Tonight, though, seems special. She can feel it in the air between them.
Eve settles on top of her hips and repeats the movements Villanelle just did a moment before. She keeps her head straight, though and looks at Vil all the time, through her dark lashes.
“I love to feel you like this, baby” Villanelle confesses, her voice quiet and ragged between the deep breaths she takes.
“I love it, too,” Eve says and leans lower, enough to take one of Villanelle’s nipples into her mouth. She plays with it and gently grazes her teeth over it.
In circle movements, Eve moves her hips and finds just the right spot when Villanelle arches her back and her hands turn into fists holding onto the sheets. So, she hits it again and again, making Villanelle a blubbering mess. It is maddening for her, and calling out Eve’s name turns into unintelligible cries as she keeps meeting her with her hips.
“Cum for me,” Eve tells her as she feels her own climax building up down her belly. “Just like that.”
Villanelle nods, sweat on her forehead as she rolls her hips and bites onto two fingers in her mouth.
“I’m so close- Evie!” What began as a murmur, turns into a loud cry.
“Me too,” She says and keeps her balance by a miracle, head lolling back.
And just when Villanelle is taken under the waves of pleasure, drowning in them, her moan animalistic and shameless, Eve falls right behind her. She can’t stop, rocking them together, grinding her hips frantically just for any friction, chasing the high.
Villanelle spasms beneath her, mouth wide open and eyes shut. Right when she feels it’s the end, Eve keeps going and soon, a second orgasm builds up inside of her.
“Hold me,” She says between the ragged breaths. “Hold me in your arms.”
Eve rolls down from her and her hand instantly wanders between their legs, finding Villanelle’s clit and sliding her thumb against it while two of her fingers go deeper. She fills her up with ease, Villanelle is slick with her cum.
And while kissing each spot on her face, Eve brings Villanelle to her knees.
“Please, please, please,” Villanelle repeats, going crazy. “Please.”
Eve doesn’t ask questions, just kisses her on the lips and swallows the moans leaving V’s mouth.
Villanelle arches her back like a cat once again and entangles her arms around Eve, bringing her the closest possible and hides her face in the storm of black hair as tears of pleasure roll down her face. She closes her thighs together as Eve’s hand keeps going and every muscle in her body tenses when she comes for the second time.
She can’t tell how much time has passed but eventually, her eyes open again and she is met with Eve sucking her fingers clean and gently running her free hand over Vil’s stomach, that when tensed, shows the soft abs.
“This is the best birthday ever,” She says and laughs, eyes crinkling in the corners.
Eve lays down on her side and Villanelle mirrors her, after covering their bodies with the sheets to keep the cold away.
“You deserve all the happiness,” Eve says and intertwines their fingers on the mattress between them. “Everything you only want, I want to give you.”
“How did I ever find you?” Villanelle stares with fascination and love.
“I’m glad you did,” Eve says and cuts the distance between, kissing her softly. “Let’s go to sleep.”
“You’re the big spoon,” Vil mumbles and turns around.
“Your wish is my command, princess,” Eve laughs and Villanelle can feel it on her back when Eve presses her chest against her.
And with that tender shake of laughter echoing from Eve, Villanelle finds her peaceful sleep; in the arms of the love of her life who will always look out for her. And who she will care for until it kills her.