CHAPTER 1
EVE
Eve wasn't sure how she got here.
She didn't remember ever agreeing to a vacation. She remembered nodding, smiling and entirely not paying attention to Niko during their anniversary dinner. She had work to think about, as per usual. Putting her own life into the mix seemed so unimportant in comparison to all the cases waiting for her at the office. But as fate would have it, here she was, two weeks later spending her precious (and rarely used) vacation days in a tiny hotel room, in a tiny town, in an irrelevant state, in an irrelevant country. Plus, it was too damn cold.
“I can’t believe people can actually live in a place this small.” Eve huffs to Niko. She’s looking out the window of their hotel room, hands braced on the cool frame, her breath fogging the glass.
“Oh come on Eve, look at that view! It’s gorgeous!” He’s excited, she can hear the smile in his voice. With what little is left of her resolve, she doesn't argue. After all, what is there to argue? Objectively, it really is quite beautiful.
They're surrounded by mountains, sparkling, snow-capped, huge peaks. It’s all quite dramatic, the treeless peaks reaching up into the clear blue sky. It smells different here, it’s quiet. Eve can see the ski resort stretching below them, hear the soft hum of the lift. She takes a deep breath and turns to Niko. He’s saying something.
“Okay, so I was thinking that while it’s still light out, we go into the town on the other side of the mountain, there's a gondola that can take us there. Eve, are you hearing me? A Gondola, Eve! And it’s free…” He keeps talking, her focus drifts. They’re only here for a week, which does not feel at all worth the entire day they spent traveling, what she really wants is to sleep. Is a week even long enough to adjust to the jet lag?
“Niko…” Eve rubs her hand across her face. “I’m so tired, can’t we just stay in for the rest of today? Go down in the morning?” She moves toward the bed. “I really just do not have the energy for this right now.”
“No, no, no” Niko says, catching her arms like one would a child and spinning her in the opposite direction of the suddenly impossibly comfortable-looking bed. He holds her in front of him. “Eve, I’ve already made us dinner reservations down there, we’re going. We can stop and get you some coffee along the way to wake you up, that’ll help, yeah? Let’s go explore!”
No, no coffee would not help.
“Niko I-” Eve starts.
“Get a coat on!” He shouts over his shoulder, tying his boots.
Eve weighs her options. She could eat.
She grabs her coat.
VILLANELLE
Villanelle has had enough.
Not once but twice today some random tourist has tried to order an iced cappuccino. First off, that is a disgrace to the name of coffee. Second, she doubts they know what it is they're trying to order. Third, they don't even have a milk frother! Fourth, it’s unreasonably cold outside. Fifth–
She’s tired. It’s barely three o’clock. The shop doesn’t close until 5:00. To her left, Konstantin is unphased. He smiles at her. “Anything you would like to say, V?”
She groans dramatically, throws her hands up above her head. “Iced cappuccinos should be illegal!”
“I completely agree.” Konstantin replies with a laugh.
She didn’t mean it as a joke. “It’s all Starbucks' fault, I can’t believe commercial chains just get to change the foundations of coffee culture that have been developing for centuries! Like who gave them the right to reinvent the Macchiato? When did we start putting lavender in everything?”
“You know you love lavender.” Konstantin says.
Villanelle groans again and bends down to grab a new bottle of chocolate syrup from beneath the counter, she spots it in the very back and has to stretch to reach for it. She hears Konstantin’s voice above her. Must be another customer. She grabs the new chocolate and stands, putting it on the counter next to the other syrups and turning to see whoever is ordering from Konstantin.
Her heart stops. But only temporarily.
There's a woman at the counter.
The first thing she notices is the unruly mass of dark curls. Next, that her cheeks and nose have a blush to them from the cold outside. She’s nodding as Konstantin gestures to the different cup sizes on the counter behind him.
She’s ordering a plain drip coffee. Light roast, strong stuff. Glorious.
She’s glorious.
When she finally looks at Villanelle's direction, there’s a pause. In her words, in the air, in time, in the expanse of the entire goddamn universe.
“Eve, would you like any pastries?” There’s a man standing next to the woman, next to Eve, a divine name for a divine creature. Villanelle realizes she had no idea he was there until he spoke up. She turns her eyes toward him, he has a bushy mustache. Unimpressive.
“No, I think I’m okay for now.” Eve smiles. Eve smiles. Eve smiles. It’s toothy and bright.
Eve inserts her card into the reader and Villanelle finally manages to unfreeze herself from her temporary state of homosexuality-fueled paralysis. She clears her throat.
“So, where are you visiting from?” She asks Eve.
“London, actually.”
“Oh… yikes.”
A moment of silence follows, until Konstantin offers an awkward chuckle. “We do not get many visitors from Europe this time of year, usually they are from Texas. Occasionally Australia…”
This conversation is utterly useless. Why aren't they talking about Eve’s hair? Or Eve’s clothes, or what Eve ate for breakfast that day. Villanelle can see her eyeing the pastries, is she hungry? If she is, why doesn’t she want anything? Perhaps a slice of matcha-raspberry cake?
She tunes back into this painfully boring conversation just in time to hear Eve say to Konstantin that she’ll be here for the upcoming week and Villanelle’s heart leaps in her chest. She turns around.
“So maybe I’ll see you in here again?” She asks, looking directly at Eve, hoping to catch her eye.
“Yeah, I think that sounds good.” Eve says, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Her lips.
She walks out of the shop, coffee and that tall man in tow. Villanelle watches until she’s completely out of sight before returning to the new customers in line and coffee orders that need to be filled. She can tell that Konstantin is biting his tongue but she has no intention of indulging in any of that right now. She pointedly avoids his meager attempt at eye contact as she snatches the drink ticket from his hand. Now only one thought pulses through her mind as watches the milk swirl in the pitcher, warming under her hands.
Eve.