The Other Lover

Chapter 9- Just bring yourself

Suddenly, Eve awakes to the same, repeated alarm she has every morning for the last twenty years of her life. Only this time, it doesn't annoy her or piss her off. It sends fear through her body, shocking every nerve along the way.

Thursday

Fucking Thursday.

She drags herself out of bed, padding to the bathroom to take a look in the mirror. She pulls at her cheeks, her bags, her forehead. She grunts.

She cleans her teeth; washes her face; puts on a small amount of blusher and lipstick; sorts her hair into some sort of a bun and puts on her fanciest clothes.

Upon her bodes, she wears a white, long-sleeved blouse. Frills curve around her shoulders as pearl, white buttons are drawn together. With her black tights, she wears a knee-length, navy blue skirt. And finally, to accompany the elegant blouse and professional yet what Niko used to call sexy skirt, she wears a navy blue blazer which pearls are attached at the bottom, leaving an opening for her slightly bare chest where buttons have not been touched.

She attends to the door when she hears a quiet knock. There, she finds a soft smiling Dom and Bill in their most formal wear too. She greets them also with a soft smile. 

"You okay?" asks Bill. Eve looks down for a while to think about the question.

Yes? No? I don't know.

She leaves Bill's question unanswered when Dom speaks "You ready to go?"

Eve drags out a long sigh before responding "ya, I'm ready."

—

The car ride was excruciating, knowing this could only go one way or another: either Eve will never see Niko another day in her life or he will be released with no charge or restraining order.

Finally, she arrives at the court. The building stands tall before her as it towers, pressuring her to enter. It shadows her small body, telling her she's weak and useless. She closes her eyes where tears bubble, trying to block out its company but it's useless.

Her heart jumps a little when a mellow hand is placed on her shoulder. Eyes fly open to see a smiling Villanelle.

"Hey, Eve," she grins, stroking Eve's shoulder with her thumb. Eve doesn't know what to make of her presence.

"You don't have to be here just because you feel bad for me," snaps Eve. Villanelle steadies her step when she stumbles backwards a little.

"What? No, Eve. I'm here to support you," Villanelle narrows her brows, shaking her head.

She has to be lying.

Eve grabs Villanelle's hand and drags her into the building.

Eve's holding my hand.

Eve looks every which way before dragging Villanelle into a bathroom. She corners her into a toilet cubicle, locking it behind her.

Only now does Villanelle admire how Eve's skirt shapes her hourglass gorgeously. The lipstick brightens her hazel eyes and her chest... wow. Villanelle has to swallow a needy sigh whilst trying to drag her eyes away from Eve's open, top buttons. But Jesus Christ, it's hard. She has always thought Eve was sexy but not to the point of being physically unable to keep in the desire.

Now, only Eve matches the same energy of realising Villanelle is flushed with red as her eyes are drawn to Eve's chest, gob wide open. She admires Villanelle's half-up, half-down, honey hair in a bun. The long, yellow dress she wears is complimented with orange patterns where it stops at the knees. The arms stretch long where they flare at the bottom. Long, brown boots stand just before the knees where they triangle down in the middle. And there's that thought again that haunts Eve but so much stronger.