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Don't know you super well but I think you might be the same as me

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    "You're so beautiful," Villanelle says while tracing Love's cheek. She didn't know Love's real name and Love didn't know hers. No, it was one of Villanelle's insistent games she wanted to play. When the dreams started she told Love that they can't tell each other anything about one another because she wanted them to find each other naturally. Villanelle had other motives too, like not wanting Love to know she killed people for a living.

    "You say that a lot," Love points out.

    They're laying on a beach this time. Villanelle isn't quite sure where. Love had fallen asleep before her and was here when she started dreaming. So Villanelle assumes it's a beach Love has been to before and made her happy. Love's voice is American so Villanelle makes a mental note to fly to America and look at every beach there after her next job.

    "Because it's true," Villanelle answers with a smile.

    "Totally," Love responds sarcastically.

    Villanelle turns and straddles Love. She pushes her black hair away from her neck so she can lean down and lightly kiss Love's slender neck. "I'll prove to you how beautiful you are."

    Love trails her fingers under from Villanelle's bikini bottom to the strings of her top. "Just tell me where to find you instead."

    "Would you leave your husband if you found me?" Villanelle sits up. "Does he know?" Only certain people got the dreams to see their soulmates. And even then it was a taboo subject to actually get to experience them. People got jealous or angry. They thought you shouldn't see other people or anything if you got the dreams because that means you can't love the person who isn't your soulmate.

    "No. He really loves me."

    " I really love you."

    "Then tell me where you are!" Love's no longer under Villanelle but behind her and yelling. This was her dream so she got to control what happened.

    Villanelle rolls her eyes and stands up. " Love , it's been almost a month." She reaches out. "I don't want to fight."

    "And I don't want to live my life waiting for someone who won't tell me where or who she is." Love rubs her temples for a moment then glances down at her watch. Villanelle knows Love is stuck because she can't make the dreams stop happening. "I'm Eve Polastri. I live in London. Actually," a piece of paper appears in her hand and she slams it against Villanelle's chest, "here's my damn address. You want this to happen? Come see me."

    Villanelle is alone after the statement. She looks at the address is her hands and reads over it until she's sure she has it memorized.


    Eve poured milk into her coffee as she waited for Niko to come down stairs and begin breakfast. Her dream gave her a headache as if she drank way too much the previous night. Although maybe that hangover from the karaoke bar with Bill last night was still in effect. But thank God it was a Saturday and she didn't need to go into work. A part of her wondered if Villanelle would actually show up at her house. The other part knew she wouldn't. At least now she wouldn't have to hear that stupid nickname anymore. Love this and Love that. Villanelle got to pick her codename why didn't Eve? She shakes her head because in all truthfulness she liked the nickname. The dreams started five years ago now, already eleven years into a marriage. When Eve had gotten through Uni and didn’t have a single one she just assumed she wouldn’t have them. How do you explain to your 41 year old husband at the time when they started, that hey my soulmate is seventeen years younger than me and also a woman?

    Villanelle had been so angry at first. She yelled and begged for Eve to get out of her head. Usually resulting in one of them to wake up. Then slowly anger turned into arrogance and charminess. It made Eve all the more interested in what was going on in this other woman’s life. Villanelle grew and flourished from an angry and awkward young adult to a smug and strong asshole. So eventually, Villanelle proposed the little game because Eve was married. If they let each other find each other naturally then what happens, happens. So for the last five years Eve’s been slowly becoming intertwined with Villanelle, and having the best sex of her life, but she’s convinced herself it’s not cheating because it’s just a dream.

    Her phone starts ringing from it's spot on the kitchen table. She sits her coffee down and walks over to it. Before picking it up she sees the number and apparently people can't keep illegal crimes to the weekdays.



    "Can you guys get out of my flat?" Villanelle asks annoyed to the couple laying in her bed. Last night they seemed like good company. Now they felt like a bitter reminder of the fact that she can't tell Eve what she does or chase after her.

    Begrudgingly they dress and exit her flat, Konstantin pushing in past them.

    "Have a fun night?"

    "Always." She rolls her eyes and tightens her dark blue kimono robe.

    "You are angry."

    She huffs and flops down on her couch. "I'm bored Konstantin. That last job was easy."

    Konstantin pulls out a postcard. "That's why I got you a new job."

    Villanelle perks up and bounces over to him. "Already? I’m sensational."

    "Yes.” He chuckles. “They want this one done tomorrow, however."

    Villanelle plucks the postcard from him. "Tuscany?"

    "It's beautiful this time of year. You'll love it."

    "First class?"

    "Of course. Also," he pulls out an envelope, "payment for your last job plus early payment for this one. A bonus. You can go shopping." He smiles with the edge of fakeness.

    "If Tuscany isn't beautiful I'm going to trim that beard of yours." The tip of her finger pokes at his chin.

    "I promise. You'll love it."



    Eve may hate work but she loved the idea of this female assassin. Once she gave up on trying to find Villanelle she turned all of her extra time to piling any case that seemed like it could match to the assassin. She kept it to herself for the time being but now? This Kedrin case has the assassin wrote all over it. She couldn't let this chance pass.

    She pushes a knife into her thigh while wondering how much pressure would be needed to perfectly puncture the arterity.

    The witness described the killer as flat chested. Which meant woman, and Bill lied to her about the CCTV-no-Bill wouldn't lie about CCTV for twenty quid. Someone lied to Bill.

    The knife punctured her skin. She runs her thumb across the dribbling blood and thinks about how this is a new assassin. A new assassin MI5 and MI6 were letting fly under the radar.

    "Do you want cheese on it?" Niko's voice rings down the hall.

    Eve jumps and covers the puncture, "No-Yes-Yes, please," she calls back.

    "Hey." He appears in the doorway.


    Niko looks at the picture of the Kedrin. "Jesus."

    "All that is from a tiny puncture wound."

    "That's awful."

    "It's impressive."

    Niko gives her a look, "and awful."

    She stares at him for a moment. "Yeah," she lies.



    Villanelle sitting with her legs pulled to her chest on a kitchen table. Eve is a bit surprised to be in another dream again with her. Usually there was a few weeks between dreams. Two women move in front of Villanelle. One of them looks identical to Villanelle except dark brunette hair. She looks more similar to the Villanelle, Eve originally met. Not quite naive, but her eyes didn’t carry harshness in them yet. The other is older, wild dark brown hair clipped back. She can't hear what they say but she can see them laugh and smile.

    Eve sits on the table beside Villanelle and doesn't speak. Villanelle must be able to hear them because her cheeks are wet and she sees her face change when there is laughter or a pause. Young Villanelle has flour on her face and the older woman stops her and wipes it off. A tender look flashes in both sets of Villanelle's eyes.

    "I was 17 here," Villanelle whispers. Four years younger than when they met.

    "Who was she?"

    "My French teacher."

    Eve looks over at her with wide eyes and waits for her to continue.

    Villanelle does, "I loved her and she loved me."

    You were a kid, Eve thinks. "What happened?" She knows this woman isn’t in Villanelle’s life anymore. They were honest about their real life relationships. Eve being married and Villanelle being… well she didn’t spare Eve any details on her real life sexual escapades.

    "She figured out who I truly was and didn't want me anymore." Villanelle doesn't look at Eve. She stares as young Villanelle, awkward and lanky, leans down to kiss her French teacher. "That was the first time I kissed her." The French teacher blushes and turns away. Young Villanelle looks confused. "I had wanted her for so long and I didn't understand why I didn't feel anything when I kissed her. There wasn't any sparks or anything. Just… nothingness." Tears are pricking at her eyes again. Young Villanelle reaches forward and pulls her French teacher back towards her. "But I told myself that's just what everyone felt. Just a desire to have something. That the love would come later. Once her husband was out of the picture."

    "She chose her husband over you?"

    Villanelle laughs. "Yeah, you could say that, Eve Polastri ."

    Eve decides she likes her name coming out of Villanelle's mouth. "I won't."

    "I can't come see you though."

    Eve pulls Villanelle so she leans against her. Villanelle moves her head to rest her forehead on Eve's shoulder. "I'll find you."

    "You won't want me anymore."

    "Oh I'm sure I will. You're too much of a prick in my side."

    Laughter vibrates against her shoulder. "My alarm is going to go off soon."

    "That's okay. I'm going to find you before the next one," Eve promises and then she's alone with a French teacher and young Villanelle. Not much of the apartment is really developed. It’s a kitchen without any escape, but Eve walks around trying to pick up any details she can. She thinks about the desperate tone of Villanelle’s voice when she said the word nothingness. As an MI5 agent, Eve’s picked up things about Villanelle. The lack of empathy she has for people when she talks about them. The impulsiveness of her spending. At first Eve had wondered if Villanelle was a model with a strong case of narcissism. She watched countless runway shows and the only explanation for Niko she had was sex-trafficking in the model world. He believed her and even sat down at one point to watch a couple fashion shows with her. She felt terrible as each model came out and disappointment pooled in her chest.

    Then Villanelle showed up to a dream bruised up and Eve knew. Villanelle scored high on the psychopathy scale, definitely has antisocial personality disorder. It all clicked pretty instantly. She assumed Villanelle worked for a russian gang, probably for a parent or relative. Roughed people up when they needed roughed up. Maybe even killed someone, but she couldn’t see Villanelle ever being willing to kill someone. She never bothered to ask Villanelle because like everything about herself, she would neither confirm or deny it, just as Eve never told Villanelle what she did for a living because it would give her location away. So when Villanelle showed up in her dream with two black eyes, bruised jaw, broken nose, and a cheeky grin, Eve shook her head and just asked her to be more careful.