Chapter Text
Loud, constant ringing in my ears drowned all noise from the outside. The smoke of burnt chemicals infuses with the saltiness of blood on my tongue. My body lays still, intact with the curves of my car seat. I feel my head spinning at a pace of a hundred miles per hour– but in reality, it is inert, resting sideways on the now deflated airbags.
A glass breaks behind me. Fresh air gushes in and the noises sound clearer now. A snip, then a tight hold, lifting my body. Glass shards from the window graze on my skin as I exit through. As soon as I felt the sun’s glare, I couldn’t handle it. Everything turned pitch black.
“Oh, god,” A woman cradles me on the side of the road. The only thing I could pick up was her deep voice and foreign accent. I can’t seem to open my eyes; but when I manage to, my vision is blurry.
“Can you hear me?”
I try to answer, but only air escapes out of my mouth.
“ Fuck– I’m going to have to take you with me.” Her voice is louder this time.
She lifts me off the ground, and a series of questions follow:
“Are you okay?”,
I shrug.
“Are you strong enough to hold on?”,
I nod.
“Do you live nearby?”
I shake my head.
“We don’t have much time.”
Moments later, I’m on a motorbike, my whole body surrendering to the woman’s back. My arms circle around her waist and my wrists are tied with some kind of fabric at the front. Locks of blonde blow in the wind, disrupting my view of a sea of green, but I didn’t care. I have fallen into some sort of daze.
“Thank you.” I finally made a sound. The motorbike’s engine growls louder as we escalate a hill.
“Did you say something?”
✧
Eve has been staring at the phone on the bedside table, but she doesn’t pick it up.
Accidents, particularly violent ones such as car accidents, should result in emotional responses such as panic and terror. Eve ponders calling her husband, Niko, to let him know about the accident ever since she regained consciousness in the last few minutes. The thing is, the urge to call isn’t really there. She knows exactly how it'll play out: he'll run out the door to save her– like some kind of knight in shining armor. Then he’ll take her to the hospital to get examined for injuries. Come home to care for her while she heals, alongside a whole field day (or even two days) about carelessness and road safety. That last part, I'd-rather-put-myself-on-fire kind of annoying.
Despite all that, she does feel a tinge of pity, so she reaches for the phone.
A woman comes out of the bathroom. “Oh, you’re finally awake. Again.” She says casually. Her accent is immediately recognized.
Eve lets go of the phone, as well as the thought of Niko.
“You pass out a lot. This better be the last time.”
“Did you carry me all the way here?” Eve attempts to sit up but hisses at the pain in her torso. The woman’s reflexes are quick to help Eve get into a more comfortable position.
Sitting up gives Eve the chance to scan her surroundings. They’re in a hotel room. It isn’t fancy, but charming enough. The walls are painted in a robin’s egg blue, with yellow decor embellishing the softer tones of the furniture. It is the total opposite of a dingy motel that would’ve been the beginning of a hostage situation.
“Yep.” She pops the P in the end and takes a seat on the chair in front of the bed. “How are you feeling? Do you live nearby? I can take you home first thing tomorrow morning.”
“I’m fine,” Eve says, though the groan that follows indicates the opposite. Obviously, the crash caused physical pain, but otherwise, she really does feel fine. For a second she wonders if the incident had altered her brain because she feels rather calm in the presence of the stranger.
It’s undeniable that the woman exuded an indecipherable aura. Eve remembers her honey-blonde hair, but now that the motorbike helmet is off, her face is visible. The first thing Eve notices is the way the woman gazes at her. Her eyes are filled with genuine care and attention, and the smile she offers is sweet; tinted pink across her cheeks and lips. She’s young and fit, as seen by the way her white tank top highlights her arm muscles as she rests them on her knees. Carrying a body must’ve been as easy as carrying a shopping bag.
She’s beautiful. Heaven-sent-angel-type thing, Eve reasons, because who would go to such lengths to help a stranger? A simple 999 dial for an ambulance would’ve been enough.
“I live in London. But thank you for the offer–” Eve pauses, realizing that she doesn’t know her name.
“Villanelle.” She fills in the blank. “And you?”
“Eve.”
Villanelle recites the name Eve wholeheartedly. The emphasized V of her accent sends Eve into a stun. No one has ever said her name… for the sake of soaking it in.
“Where are we? What happened?” Eve continues.
“Lady at the front desk says we’re in a town called Haywards Heath. You crashed your car into a tree south of here.” Villanelle leans back on the chair, reaching for a bottle sitting on the desk. “But you’re okay. No major injuries, only bruises, and your scraped forehead. This is arnica. For your bruises.”
Eve touches her forehead, feeling the gauze bandage on her fingertips.
“I almost can’t remember anything.” She receives the bottle and studies the label. ”Thank you, again, so much for… all this. You really didn’t have to.”
Villanelle responds with a soft laugh at the constant thank yous . “We were in the middle of nowhere, so the chances of someone else finding you were pretty slim. I think it was fate that I was taking the same road path as you.”
Eve lets out a little hum in agreement.
Breaking the nice moment of silence, Villanelle abruptly gets out of her seat. “Well– It’s late, so it’s best you clean yourself up and get some rest. I have my own room, don’t worry. I was only here making sure you were okay. Now that you are, I’ll be next door on the right– you know– if you need anything.”
Before Eve could say anything back, Villanelle had left.
✧
Villanelle wakes up from the sound of knocking on her room door. Apparently, the constant calling of her name wasn’t a dream, either.
“Eve, it’s 3 in the morning. What’s wrong?”
“I can’t sleep,” Eve complains.
“You haven’t showered.” Villanelle points out that Eve’s disheveled look hasn’t changed, and so have her clothes. “Feeling clean helps, you know.”
“I know, but It really hurts when I move.” Eve groans. “Do you by chance have medication or anything for pain?”
“Poor thing.” Villanelle sighs and reaches for Eve’s shoulder. “Come in. Let me check.”
Eve sits on the edge of the bed, hunched in exhaustion as she watches Villanelle rummage through her bag under the desk lamp for a few minutes. Every few seconds she squeezes a different part of her body to ease the pain.
“Sorry. I've got nothing.” Villanelle turns back towards her. “But I can offer you something else. I can help you shower if you want.”
Eve’s jaw drops at the offer. She couldn't believe her ears. “Excuse me?”
“I’m serious, Eve. Anything to get you better.” Villanelle makes the final decision by turning the bathroom lights on and starts running hot water into the tub. “Come.” She gestures at Eve.
At that point, it’s too late to decline the offer, so Eve gets up and follows her into the bathroom. When she enters, it’s the first time she’s seen herself in the mirror since the accident. Villanelle is shuffling behind, trying to make her way around the small space gathering soap, towels, and other necessities.
“Here, let me help you. I won’t look.” She reassures as she pulls Eve’s top over her head, while Eve watches her look the other way as she does it. Eve’s attention then shifts to her own reflection in the mirror. Her undressing reveals the amount of bruises her body’s been kissed. A gasp escapes her mouth at the sight of herself looking like a wreck. She can’t believe this is how Villanelle is seeing her for the first time. An overwhelming feeling of embarrassment takes over her.
Villanelle continues to hold Eve entering the bathtub, her eyes still looking away until Eve is submerged from the shoulder down.
She turns off the faucet. “Is the water okay? Is it too hot?”
Eve looks at Villanelle, then herself, puzzled by how her mind has led her into this situation. The amount of trust she feels for Villanelle is a lot for such a short period of time.
“It’s perfect.” Eve nods.
“Good. Just sit back and relax.” Villanelle comforts.
She begins by soaping Eve’s hair with shampoo. Its lavender scent fills the room with help from the steam coming from the water. Her touch is gentle; each finger brushing through Eve’s curls with care, never too rough to pull even a single strand. Afterward, she repositions herself to the side of the tub, lathering Eve’s arms, back, legs, and collarbone. Lastly, a little bit of Eve’s face too, but making sure the water doesn’t reach her injured forehead.
They lock eyes when Villanelle rinses the soap off of Eve’s cheek. A tender cupping; warm and light.
“All done.” Villanelle exhales with a smile.
After Eve puts on a bathrobe, she sits on a chair in front of the sink that Villanelle has propped. She closes her eyes as Villanelle goes through her curls with a hairdryer. The buzzing of the machine overtakes the chaos of Eve’s thoughts– and it feels meditative.
“I love your hair.” Villanelle compliments them once she turns off the hairdryer. Eve opens her eyes and mouths thank you in return .
With no energy left after the bath, Eve falls asleep in Villanelle’s bed.
Villanelle sleeps on the floor.