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By the time Eve could register who was at her door, there was blood and subdued gasping filling her senses. Villanelle, of course. It was only by genuine instinct that Eve let the door stay open and allowed the messy figure to stumble through. At first, Eve was shocked; she was still adjusting to the sight of Villanelle when she heard a sharp -
“Eve!”
Snap out of it.
“Yes? Yes - what the hell? ” Eve said, kicking into action now. “What is going on, why are you here?”
Villanelle wasn't standing quite right. She had a limp, though she was trying to disguise it. “If you couldn't tell, I've been hurt -”
“Shut up!” Eve said bluntly. “Shut up. I can see that. I wanna know what happened and who did this.” She began to process things more clearly, gathering bandages and isopropyl alcohol, along with a small blade she hoped she wouldn't have to use. She didn't want to take too long to ponder whether she would need it to protect herself from Villanelle or help her.
Despite having fallen into more of a slump, Villanelle gasped out a giggle. “Are you getting protective, Eve? That's hot.”
Eve rolled her eyes. It had been months since her last dangerous encounter with the woman. That night felt so fresh, yet Eve couldn't bring herself to talk about it. It was enough that it played on her mind, trapping her thoughts in an endless cycle of Villanelle, Villanelle, Villanelle…
The words cut through her busy thoughts even now. Now we walk, and we never look back. Except they did and were always going to because Eve cannot resist her hatred of this woman. It was a pull. She felt it as she tugged Villanelle with her arms, her own slightly less muscular. She desperately tried to throw her to the ground and turn her back but the urge never came.
She wordlessly guided Villanelle to her bed, secretly wishing she had had the inclination to tidy it up this morning. Villanelle didn't seem to mind, however, as she sat gracelessly on the sheets and seemed to melt a little bit. Eve could tell she was exhausted. Eve’s touches became ever so slightly more gentle. Yet, she felt the desire to keep her defences up. Past experiences, perhaps. “Villanelle, I'm going to need you to sit up. I cant see where the blood is coming from.”
There was a mix of grunts and amused huffs as Eve positioned Villanelle in the half-light. The gash on her left side stretched from her upper ribs to her lower abdomen, forming a shallow but cruel curve. Eve kept her panic sitting under her skin. There was no need to react. How would that help Villanelle right now? Pushing the other minor wounds to the back of her mind, and ignoring how much thought she was putting into Villanelle’s wellbeing, Eve closed her eyes for a second to recall any memory she had of medical aid.
Softly, Villanelle shifted next to her. Eve could feel eyes on her own closed ones.
Stay focused. Clean the wound.
Eve’s mother had once taught her that the most important thing to do when you have a cut is to make sure there is no bacteria. Clean, clean, clean. Of course, this was a slightly different wound to the time Eve ran into a wall and split her earlobe. Very different lives they had, the two of them. Eve wondered for just a moment if she would ever tell Villanelle that story, and if she would laugh with her pretty smile, and they'd compare scars. Hesitantly, she began to prepare some cotton and alcohol. “This is gonna sting.” Villanelle nodded, her gaze on Eve alone. Her face was a little hazy now and Eve became very aware of just how much blood she was losing. “Sorry, I have to…” Villanelle smiled and nodded once more, giving Eve permission, silently acknowledging the pain. Eve thought she must have been sympathetic, given that she was the one who was more used to bloody fatalities. It was more as though Villanelle were guiding Eve.
With slow hands, Eve dabbed at the parts of the wound she could see. Just as she had thought, it had not cut deep, but it could still get worse. The cotton was quickly soaked in more blood than alcohol and Villanelle was gasping, her hand clamped around Eve’s wrist. As Eve sat there, hands shaking, she knew she needed better access. A better view. She needed Villanelle clearer, easier, sooner. An idea sprung up, but she needed to be sure that Villanelle was conscious enough to willingly agree. “Villanelle, I don't think this is working.” The only reply was a slow blink. “Are you okay?
“I’m fine, Eve. You make a good nurse.”
“Ha!” Eve actually had to laugh at Villanelle’s inappropriately timed flirting. “This is not a good time. I've barely done anything anyway. I need you to tell me if you’re actually okay,” she said, gentler, as she moved closer to support Villanelle’s lower back.
Villanelle sighed. She seemed content at least. “I feel weak, which i do not like. But the problem is all this blood. I need antibiotics probably and stitches, definitely.” she paused. So composed, even in her state. “I shouldn't have come here.”
“Why not?
“You didn't ask for this, and I just assumed you would be able to help me. I didn't think of the actual medical complications or… you.”
Eve sat solemnly, absorbing the words. Was Villanelle admitting to her own selfishness? She seemed to be exposing some humanity, but Eve was partly in disbelief that it was genuine. The only real thing was this blood on her forearms and the warm, pulsing flesh of Villanelle’s back.
Villanelle was still looking at her. “Eve? I just wanted to see you. Can you blame me? You're a catch,” Villanelle smirked. Eve rubbed her eyes with her palm, unsure of her own thoughts now, let alone Villanelle’s.
“Okay, you’re clearly in a fairly normal state of mind. Villanelle, do you think we’d be able to wash this blood off? I need to see the actual skin.” Eve felt a shiver of anticipation for Villanelle’s answer, knowing the implication, fully aware that Villanelle’s sharp mind would catch it immediately.
Villanelle's smile grew. “You want me to strip?”
Both of Eve’s hands went up, “i never said that! But I need to see it clearer. The shitty light in this bedroom isn't helping.” She stood up and hoped desperately that she wasn't blushing. Focus.
They made their way to the adjacent bathroom with Eve supporting Villanelle. They were both quiet, each in their own way. Eve could feel a lift in Villanelle’s mood, but she didn't owe it to the declothing. She seemed bouncier, as though something had been restored. Eve wondered if it had anything to do with being nurtured, or perhaps even the fact that gentle hands were being used on her for once. She didn't feel right in asking how Villanelle had been injured just yet, as it seemed potentially sensitive. For now, Eve just held her a bit closer while she had the opportunity.
Eve drew a hot bath with antibacterial soap while Villanelle undressed behind her. It sounded painful. As she crouched with one hand in the rising water, Eve closed her eyes and tried to distract herself from the woman behind her. What had Villanelle been wearing? All Eve could now conjure up was a vague image of a baby blue jumper and dark, thin trousers. It had not struck her when she had first opened the door, which was the most shocking thing about it. Villanelle usually dressed to surprise and entice. She never missed a chance to catch eyes.
Villanelle grunted quietly. “Eve, do you mind helping me? This is harder than I thought it would be.” Eve stood and turned to see Villanelle in unbuttoned trousers and one arm loose of her jumper. Underneath, a simple black bra was slightly visible. Eve took quiet pride in the fact that she had recalled the outfit perfectly, owing it to her excellent observance, ignoring that she had really just always been very attentive to Villanelle’s figure.
Eve slowly lifted the jumper above Villanelle’s raised arms, wincing as she did. The blood was more severe than she thought at first - it swathed around Villanelle’s midsection in a shiny mass. There were other bruises and cuts dotted around, but only small ones. The gash stared. The trousers were removed just after Eve got herself together. She ignored how close she was to Villanelle, and how intimate she felt. She imagined this was the scariest part for Villanelle. Or perhaps not - she had been physically close to others before. But emotionally?
Focus.
Villanelle took Eve's waiting hand. “This may hurt like a motherfucker, but it's worth it.” Eve felt relief for Villanelle’s continued defiance in the face of what must be blinding pain. “Don't you get any ideas, Eve,” Villanelle smiled as she slipped into the bath. Her underwear was still on, as Eve only needed to see her side, yet the air felt electric with intimacy.
With a soft, clean sponge, Eve began to dab soapy water at the skin around the gash. The water was only low enough to lap at Villanelle’s waist, but Villanelle still gasped every time it got near the wound. Eve could only wince and continue cleaning. Once the blood was cleared, the water was a rich pinkish-red, but Villanelle was breathing more steadily. Eve set on with dabbing alcohol at it, and was relieved to see that it was already less inflamed. Still severe, but not angry. Villanelle’s small eyes were closed. She was so peaceful that she could have been asleep. Eve knew better, as Villanelle’s left hand was holding onto the side of the bath firmly, one finger brushing eve’s. She couldn't help but be aware of it.
Villanelle’s lips parted slightly, “Eve.” She had Eve’s attention, but her face had not moved. She knew Eve was watching. “Thank you. You are so good.”
Eve had to stutter to put together a response. “I mean - I haven't done first aid in years, and we’re definitely going to have to get a professional to give you stitches after this, but -”
“No, I mean you are good. You're a good person. Thank you.” Her eyes were still shut, as though she could only be vulnerable blindly.
“You're welcome,” Eve murmured. She took Villanelle’s hand in her own before she could think of any other response and kissed it, tenderly, feeling the supple skin for just a second.
Villanelle opened her eyes, immediately locking into Eve's gaze. She reached that same hand towards Eve's cheek and held it there, reminiscing exactly what Eve had done so many months ago in her old kitchen. Eve wasn't sure if she was in control anymore. She thought that maybe Villanelle could snap her neck where they were, and she probably wouldn't fight. Villanelle opened her mouth again, deadly serious, and whispered,
“Kiss me, Eve.”
So Eve did; she moved forward without even breathing and brought herself to Villanelle. She was open. Villanelle held her face with both hands now, with as much energy as she could muster, pouring herself into the point where their mouths met. Eve felt heat rise to her ears and cheeks. She could feel the tips of her hair stick softly to Villanelle’s damp skin, and still, she moved in, feeling greedy. She was out of breath before Villanelle was. Her hands could have been tingling with the sensation of holding what she’d thought of for so long.
Moving back slightly, Eve observed Villanelle's body - partially out of desire and partially out of concern - and noted that her chest was heaving along with Eve's. The gash was threatening to widen, so Eve calmed herself. She took her hands off Villanelle, but Villanelle didn't move her renewed grip from Eve's wrist.
Eve’s head whirled. She wanted to kick the ceramic in frustration over the fact that she had not only given in, but she’d given in when Villanelle was injured. She came here for help, and Eve responds like this. Eve could already see the effect on Villanelle as her chest flushed and her breaths became more shallow. She was smiling, but not smugly. Warmly. “V, I - oh my God I don't know what -”
“Shut up, Eve,” Villanelle said tenderly. “I was waiting for that.”
Eve let out a laugh and set about helping Villanelle out of the water. Her hands were more at ease now; she was comfortable. Her cheeks were less hot. Villanelle was giggling. Eve noted as she was helping Villanelle dress, “We should really get you to a hospital. I may have made things even worse.”
Villanelle bounced back, “I disagree.” Eve raised a single eyebrow. “You've just made me feel so much better.” Eve groaned as Villanelle winked and grinned.
“Asshole.”
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