KINDRED. ━ enola holmes. ( ✔️)

VI. BLOOD, BLOOD, BLOOD AND POSSIBLE DEATH.

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THERE ARE THOSE MOMENTS in life where serotonin rushes through one's veins- feelings of pure bliss, pure enjoyment and peace- and whether this was one of them for Vivienne is up for you to decide. But there was something about Enola- a twinge of that trust she'd grown over a mere night with her that made Vivienne so excited to see her. 

But it didn't matter- there she was, flushed cheeks and calmly combed hair. Her eyes confused, littered with golden specks that stared at the girl in blue for a moment.

"Vivienne?" Enola's eyes flickered with both enjoyment and annoyance, and the girl she was speaking to became dismayed.  If she was that much of a drag she could leave- it's not like she didn't understand that Enola was on her own journey. 

 "Uhm, yes, that's me-" she inwardly winced at her awkwardness, "it's nice to see you again."

A smile became fixated on the other girl's face. "It's been mere hours since we last talked, but yes, it is." Suddenly, Vivienne could feel the stress and dismay rushing out of her, like blood from a wound. God- what was happening?

"What are you doing here?" She asked, fiddling with her fingers to avoid eye contact and further embarrass herself.  

Enola's eyebrows raised. "Might I ask you the same thing?" Vivienne looked up and met the other girl's eyes for a second, something unfamiliar rushing through both their bodies. "I," Enola paused carefully, thinking about her next words. "Something is here. Something that might help me in my, you know, task." Vivienne nodded. "And well um, since it could possibly be dangerous, I'd much rather you stay out here, and away from trouble."

Vivienne's jaw dropped out of both shock and anger. "I- should I be offended?" 

"Not like that! I don't think your incapable, I'd just rather that one of us live rather then both of us dying."

"Thank you for your optimism, Ms. Holmes."

Enola's lips quirked up slightly, before she looked at a black door, more specifically the lock. Her mind buzzed with thoughts, and she looked back towards Vivienne before signing for the girl to stay where she was. The girl in blue let out a small groan of annoyance, though stood there as she'd been told as the other girl ran towards a window and shuffled inside the building.

Now, Vivienne had never been a lookout before, but she'd already decided that she hated it. There was nothing to do, no one to talk to, and nothing to even look out for. It was London, for gods sake, and this wasn't far enough into the poorer areas to get mugged or beaten by some pesky teenage boy with misogynistic ideals. 

Oh, how wrong she was. Partially wrong, that is. 

Soon enough, Vivienne heard footsteps echoing from the back alley behind the warehouse Enola had entered. And she was sure it was Enola. Tired of waiting, the girl broke into a walk towards the noise, only to hear that it had stopped. Sounds of struggle had replaced it, earning Vivienne's interest. She peeked into the origin of the noise, only to see the man in a brown bowler hat drowning Enola. Soon enough, the girl would be dead. 

Vivienne needed to think fast. And on her right, conveniently, was a rack of iron tools. On her left? A fire. And from there her short, yet diabolical plan unfolded. She snatched one of the pieces of metal and thrusted the end of it into the fire, begging for it to heat up. By now Enola's screams of struggle slowly faded. Vivienne desperately lifted the tool from the fire, not caring how much it had heated, for Enola was almost dead.