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Eve has come to the conclusion that no matter where she goes or what she does, she will always attract death.

She will always attract Villanelle.

She's already accepted the fact that Villanelle will find her anywhere she tries to go (not that Eve would make it particularly difficult for her—there's something in her that secretly still wants Villanelle to chase after her, even though she only seems to bring trouble along with her).

Eve hates herself for having feelings for that... that... monster, even after what she did to Bill. Even after what she did to Eve. Especially after what she did to Niko. She simply cannot get this woman out of her head.

Eve sinks further into her living room couch, snatching her bottle of wine off the coffee table before she can sink in too far. She doesn't bother with a glass—the sink is overrun by dishes, anyway. And she'd rather not fool with that tonight.

Or any night. Ever. She just wants to sit here, and watch whatever ridiculous reality television show has managed to make it onto her screen, and drink lots and lots of wine.

She would give anything for Niko to be here. For them to be back in their home, where they belonged together. She would give anything to look into those evil, cat-like eyes and watch the life drain out of them for what she's done. What she's doing. What she'll continue to do...

She misses him. She really misses him. But it's nothing new—she missed him long before he was dead. He'd been ignoring her texts for a while. But it's the fact that he can't see or respond to them ever again that breaks her heart. It used to give her comfort that he was still out there, somewhere, just a little out of reach.

Now he's gone forever.

It used to give her comfort that Villanelle was out there, too. Waiting. Watching. Listening. It still does, and she hates that. Oh, how Eve wishes she could erase her from her mind. How she wishes her obsession had never started in the first place.

Stop it, she tries to tell herself, why are you thinking about her right now? Oh, Niko...

It's like her mind is running circles around a track. Over and over, with the same faces staring back at her. Haunting her. Bill. Frank. Kenny. Niko. And at the checkered flag sits Villanelle, always there to welcome her back into a loop of her misery. Always there as a constant reminder of the things she's done. Of the things she can never take back.

She takes a large gulp of wine. She nearly chokes on it. Her frown is so deep she could probably count all of the muscles it's putting to work. She stares ahead and tries to empty her brain of all thought. One thing does surface, despite her efforts.

She's a little hungry.

She manages to get up and go over to the fridge. She spends a few minutes rummaging around, looking for one of her heat-and-serves. The only ones left are spaghetti.

She slams the door shut and takes a breath, feeling her heart speeding up. She presses her hands against the cold tile of her kitchen counter, leaning her head down and trying to ignore the pain echoing in her abdomen.

It's then that she hears the doorbell.

Eve's head shoots up. She turns her head to the door, staring at it with wide eyes. Who could possibly be visiting her right now? Carolyn, maybe. But also unlikely, after Eve cursed her out at Niko's funeral a few days ago. She still feels bad about that.

Slowly and carefully, she makes her way over, tip-toeing across her apartment to the door. She stops when she reaches it, pressing forward to look through the peephole.

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