(2112 words)
[jumping off of dreamy clouds kind of fluff]
Translations:
- Да (pronounced "dah"): yes
- Лчела (pronounced "pchela"): bee
- Нет (pronounced "nyet"): no
—
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
Eve looks at Villanelle in exasperation before turning her attention back to the road. "What could go wrong, Vil?"
Villanelle huffs, "So much stuff, Eve."
"It's a baby."
"Exactly."
Eve laughs at Villanelle's grumbling as she pulls into Bill's driveway, where the man greets them with a smile. He then ushers them inside to what looks like the aftermath of a natural disaster.
Toys are strewn across the floor, some laying in little piles that include food crumbs. The TV is blasting at max volume, showing a cartoon about some dogs being superheroes. And sitting about two feet away from the screen, is Charlie, Bill's one year old baby.
How a human so small could make such a big mess baffles both Villanelle and Eve, and they exchange a glance that clearly says oh god.
Bill bends down to scoop him up, pulling the boy's foot out of his mouth and turning him around to face the two women. "You remember Charlie?"
"Vividly," Eve says, earning a smack on the arm from Bill. "Ow!"
Meanwhile, Villanelle reaches a hand out towards the baby, trying to be careful. She'd never been good with children due to her own lack of a positive parental relationship. She doesn't want to hurt the poor thing, especially since Bill had asked them to come over for the exact opposite reason.
The baby babbles suddenly and grabs her hand, cackling as Villanelle jumps about five feet in the air.
"Don't worry," Bill chuckles. "He doesn't bite—well..."
Villanelle shakes the little hand in her own and smiles as the tiny fingers hold onto her tighter.
And before she can protest, Bill sticks him in her arms with a smirk.
Instinctively, she slips a hand underneath him and another around his back. She glares at Bill. "Really?"
"You're a natural, see?" Bill waves a hand in her direction before turning back to Eve. "Thank you for tonight, you're a doll."
"No problem, go!" Eve laughs, practically pushing him out the door. "Drink! Eat! Relax!"
"Are you seriously kicking me out of my own hou—" the door slams in his face and Eve locks it quickly before looking back at the intertwined two. "That man only relaxes every twenty years, I swear."
Villanelle stares, dumbfounded, at her. The baby is still propped up against her hip, tangling his fingers in blonde hair as he babbles to himself.
"...Are you okay?"
"Eve, I do not want to hurt him," Villanelle says, gently prying the hands off of her face as she walks closer.
"You won't," Eve reassures her.
Villanelle holds the baby out anyways, an invitation to take him, but Eve saw the way she'd looked at him earlier. There is no way she'd hurt that baby, given how gentle she's being as she's trying to escape his searching hands.
"I think you've got it!" Eve says brightly, starting for the kitchen. "I'm going to go make dinner."
"Wait, Eve—" Villanelle tries, but Eve disappears into the room, leaving the two alone.
