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Eve sat at the dining table with her laptop, finishing up on some work that had been piling up during the week. She heard the bathroom door unlock, and a few moments later soft footsteps were coming toward her. A little smile forms on her lips, as it always does when Villanelle is nearby, but she doesn’t look up.
The shuffling comes closer, and Eve looks up. Villanelle is fresh out of the shower, hair still dripping at the ends, and she’s not wearing her own expensive silk robe—she’s wearing Oksana’s fluffy purple bathrobe.
Villanelle pads silently across the room, sniffling and wiping her eyes with her sleeve. Eve coos and pushes away from the table and opens her arms to Villanelle, who wordlessly settles into her lap.
Eve is a little taken aback by Villanelle’s sudden shift in mood; they had been laughing and joking over dinner, and it had been a relatively good, normal day.
“What’s the matter, hm?” she asks softly, stroking Villanelle’s back up and down.
The younger woman just shrugs and burrows into Eve’s neck, hiding in her dark curls. She makes pitiful little crying noises, her back shuddering with each inhale.
“Did something happen?” Eve wants to know. “Tell me, baby…”
“N-no, nothing happened,” Villanelle mumbles, yet clings tighter to Eve.
“You sure, uh? Did you think about something bad?”
Villanelle shakes her head. “No, I—just a lot ,” she huffs. She struggles to put all of this into words, it’s why she clings onto Eve in the first place, in hopes that she can figure it out for her.
“Mmh, I see…” Eve murmurs and then she is quiet for a little while.
Eve rubs slow circles into Villanelle’s back, aching from the feeling of her little one trembling in her embrace. She rocks them a little bit—as best as she can on this wooden dining chair. Villanelle’s nose pokes and nudges at her neck, and from the way her back slowly rises and falls, Eve can tell that Villanelle is smelling her.
See, Villanelle does have feelings— she has a lot of feelings. Villanelle’s feelings just don’t work the same as a normal person’s. (Whatever ‘normal’ is.) They don’t make much sense, there’s not always much logic to them. They come in discombobulated patterns and flashes, and all she can do is remain a steady rock for Villanelle to lean against.
“Are you just having a lot of feelings tonight, baby?” she asks after a while, pressing her cheek to Villanelle’s head.
“Yeah, there’s—so much ,” Villanelle says, letting out something like a mix between a whine and a sigh. “I don’t want it.”
“It’s tough, baby, I know,” Eve murmurs to her. “Sometimes you just need to feel it, though.”
“Noo,” Villanelle sobs, squirming on Eve’s lap; simultaneously trying to push her away and cuddle further into her. “I don’t want to feel it, Eef—”
“Shhh, Oksana,” Eve steadies her with both hands on her hips, gently sitting her up so she can look into her red, puffy eyes. “We’ve talked about this, remember? Feelings aren’t dangerous. They can be scary, but your feelings won’t harm you, baby,” she wipes a lonely tear away with her thumb. “And I’m here to feel them with you, always. Do you want Mommy, sweetheart?”
Villanelle nibbles on her bottom lip in thought, and then she shyly bobs her head up and down.
“Please.”
Eve smiles softly, and then her fingers brush through the terrycloth. “I saw you picked Oksana’s bathrobe, so I figured it was my little girl I was dealing with,” she affectionately strokes her girl’s cheek. “Everything’s okay, Oksana, mama’s got you.”
Oksana breathes a sigh of relief, letting another tear roll down her cheek—Eve catches it, just like she always catches Oksana. Eve makes a sympathetic cooing sound in her throat, murmuring sweet little words of affection as she cleans Oksana’s face with the sleeve of her cardigan.
“Mommy’s girl,” she sighs with compassion. There’s that ever-present concerned knit in her eyebrows. “How small are you feeling? A little bit, or very?”
“Very,” Oksana mumbles, her fingers finding a button on Eve’s cardigan and fidgeting with it.
“That’s okay. Feelings can feel very big for little girls sometimes,” Eve says, and Oksana absorbs it.
That’s very true.
Sometimes Oksana’s feelings are so big that it feels like they are going to eat her, or swallow her whole.
“And it’s safe to cry with mommy, sweetheart,” Eve strokes her cheek with her thumb, just below Oksana’s eye. “You don’t have to hold anything in, if you need to cry, cry . No matter what. Crying is good, it can make the big feeling seem less big after a while. Mommy’s never going to tell you not to feel a feeling.”
Eve is explaining this as if the 26 year old on her lap was at least 20 years younger. She stroked her smooth skin all the while she was telling her everything she was supposed to be told from the beginning. If Eve could’ve raised Oksana, she would have—she would’ve been loved every second. She would be comforted when she cried instead of ignored or thrown into the shed with the dogs. Oksana would’ve been held and soothed and she would’ve learned what feelings were—that feelings were precious and that she deserved to have them too.
But 26 is not too old for learning, Eve had decided, and she was going to give everything to this little girl.
Oksana hiccuped and a few tears rolled down her red cheeks. She held eye contact with Eve as she sniffled, as her body began to shudder. Not once did she look away, she looked straight into Eve’s eyes as her face crumpled and she began to cry. Her chest heaved with aching sobs and shallow breaths, and she desperately searched Eve’s face for comfort.
And then Eve’s hands were on her—one of them cupping her cheek and allowing her to lean into the touch, the other stroking through her damp hair gently. Eve attempted to pull her closer, let her rest on her shoulder and hide like she often likes to do, but when she tried Oksana’s crying grew louder. It turned frantic and distraught; she needed to see Eve. Needed to look into her eyes and see her love, her devotion, to see that it all was true. She needed mommy to look at her.
She sucked in a deep breath between sobs and it caught in her throat, resulting in a series of wet, shallow breaths. Her eyes widened in fear and she gripped at her throat; it felt like the crying was choking her from the inside, like it was trying to eat her. She whined and whimpered and Eve’s eyes widened too when she realized.
“Oksana, don’t scratch, baby—” Eve grabbed her hands when they began to claw at her throat. “Look at mommy and breathe , sweetheart, you’re fine. See? In….and out. Deep breath in….and out….”
Eve over-exaggerated her deep breaths until Oksana followed suit, her sobs dying down as she focused on breathing with Eve. Her eyes were hazy and her bottom lip trembled with residual sobs and hiccups, and she was so beautiful.
“Good girl, you’re so good at breathing,” she placed her hand flat on Oksana’s sternum, feeling the thump-thump-thump of her heart. “I’m so proud of you, ‘ksana. Such a good girl.”
“M’good girl for crying?” Oksana asks weakly after catching her breath.
“Yes,” Eve just smiles at her, tucking a wayward wisp of hair behind her ear.
Oksana sniffs and rubs her eye with the heel of her hand. Her body feels weary after this release, and her head is starting to hurt. But it feels good at the same time, like the monster isn’t as big as it was before.
“Do you want some water?”
“Mhm,” Oksana nods. “Head hurts.”
“I know, that happens,” Eve smiles warmly at her. “Stand up, sweetie. Let’s get you some water.”
Oksana gingerly rises from her lap, adjusting the bathrobe around herself. She watches silently as Eve takes a sippy cup from their special cupboard and fills it with water. After screwing the rubber nipple on, she hands it to Oksana. While Oksana drinks, Eve gently brushes her fingers over her forehead and her still damp hair, looking at her as if she is precious and delicate.
After she’s drunk all the water, her teeth worry the silicone nub of the sippy cup as she observes Eve. The older woman’s face is warm and soft, and while Oksana waits for the mask to drop, she realizes that there is no mask. This is Eve, raw and real, and she means everything she says to Oksana. She doesn’t want to back out, she doesn’t want to run away.
Eve gently pries the sippy cup from her hands. “Don’t chew, sweetie.”
“Sorry,” Oksana apologizes in a whisper.
“It’s okay, it’s just that if you chew it might leave marks,” Eve explained when she set the cup on the side of the sink.
Eve took her little girl’s hand and squeezed it.
“Let’s go get you dressed. Then you can watch a movie with mommy before bed, would you like that?”
Oksana nods, the slightest smile forming on her lips.
“I figured,” Eve kissed her forehead. “Come on, then. Mommy’s gonna pick some cute pajamas for you.”
—
Eve picked a cute shirt from one of Oksana’s many pajama sets, and laid it to the side of the towel she had spread out atop the comforter. On top of the towel was a fluffy white rectangle with stars and moons on it. Next to the towel laid a packet of baby wipes and powder.
“Come here, sweetheart,” Eve made a beckoning motion with her hand.
Oksana timidly padded over to the bed, observing what was on it and then letting her eyes flicker to Eve. Her cheeks went a little red at what the setup was suggesting, and Eve quickly moved to comfort her.
She stroked Oksana’s hair slowly, gingerly, just the way she likes it.
“It’s okay, baby, just trust mommy,” Eve says. “Don’t feel embarrassed.”
Oksana was too tired to argue or question, so she nodded. It had a pretty pattern on it, she thought.
“Mkay, sweet girl.”
The younger woman was helped out of her bathrobe and then made to lie flat on her back. She felt naked and exposed, but it was just them in the room—just Oksana and mommy. Eve’s eyes on her could never feel like a threat; if anything it felt like a warm blanket enveloping her, to have Eve look at her and cater to her most intimate needs.
Although Oksana was fresh out of the shower, Eve wiped her clean anyway. She slid the diaper under her bottom and applied a healthy amount of baby powder, then she peeled the tape from the sides and fastened the tabs at the front. Oksana remained silent throughout, simply watching Eve from where she laid.
She felt smaller than before, and when Eve pulled her up to sit, she collided with the older woman’s front. Her arms wrapped loosely around Eve and she nibbled at the collar of her shirt.
“Aren’t you precious?” Eve hums, her fingertips tracing the scar from the arrow on Oksana’s back. “Are you mama’s girl, hm? My girl?”
Oksana nodded and mouthed at Eve’s clavicle instead, flinging her arms over Eve’s shoulders in an attempt to draw her in closer. It made Eve chuckle, and she used it as an opportunity to pull Oksana to her feet instead. To finish the ensemble, Oksana was dressed in a my little pony t-shirt, which came to rest just at her hips, revealing the diaper underneath.
“Do you want to bring one of your stuffies with you?” Eve suggests, gesturing vaguely to the pile of stuffed animals on their bed. “Maybe…your lion? Or your doggie?”
“ Kis-Kis ,” Oksana pointed to the raggedy cat at the bottom of the pile.
“Oh, how could I forget about Kis-Kis,” Eve cooed and took the stuffed cat from the heap.
Kis-Kis had once been white and silk-smooth and shiny, but now she was a dull gray-beige color, and her fur was matted beyond salvation. One of her eyes had fallen out and Eve had sewed it back on to the best of her abilities. She was raggedy and crooked and one of her legs would need stitches soon, but Kis-Kis was Oksana’s favorite. Kis-Kis followed her around the world, and she often slept between Oksana and Mommy at night. For long jobs, she had been sprayed with Eve’s perfume for comfort, and the scent of La Villanelle lingered on her still.
Eve smiled at the worn, loved little cat and handed it to Oksana.
“Thank you,” Oksana murmured, pressing Kis-Kis to her nose and breathing in her scent.
“Of course, baby. Let’s go downstairs, there’s a movie with your name on it there.”
With Eve in one hand, and Kis-Kis in the other, Oksana let herself be guided downstairs and into the living room. Eve knew from looking at Oksana that they probably wouldn’t make it through even half a movie.
Crying like Oksana did would exhaust anyone, but for someone to which it’s still so foreign—she must be exhausted.
Eve sits down on the couch first, inviting Oksana to cuddle up next to her. Oksana does, leaning on Eve’s shoulder and clinging onto her arm. Eve draped a blanket over them both and grabbed the remote.
“What do you wanna watch, honey?”
Oksana shrugs. “Mommy picks.”
“Mommy gets to do the honors, hm?” Eve grins. “How about…Frozen? Your favorite?”
“Frozen two,” Oksana mumbles. “Mommy’s favorite.”
“Ah, that is mommy’s favorite,” Eve opens the disney+ app and cranes her neck to kiss the crown of Oksana’s head. “You’re such a sweet girl for remembering.”
Oksana smiles sheepishly and curls up next to her mommy, clutching her cat tightly when Eve presses play. She breathes in Eve’s scent, so warm and familiar—a scent she would know in blindness, in death. She thinks she knows it on some primal level now, knows it the way a baby knows its mother’s smell. That’s what they are to some degree, anyway. Their bond goes beyond what words can explain, beyond anyone’s understanding.
Eve listened to her baby’s calm breaths, delighted in how boneless she was against her side. That she’s the only one who ever gets to see Oksana like this is the most precious gift of all.
They have watched this movie a million times, they both know it in their sleep, but Oksana still giggles every time Olaf is on screen. It’s the happiest, most innocent sound in the world.
As the sky grows darker, Oksana regresses further. It’s a natural progression, one that happens on most nights when she is little. Just twenty-five minutes into the movie, Oksana whines softly and begins to squirm.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Eve whispers, opening her arms to receive Oksana. “Not comfy?”
Oksana doesn’t answer, instead she lays over Eve’s lap, nuzzling her face into her chest. Eve instinctively cradled her baby, supporting her neck and propping her up with some pillows. Oksana sighed and snuggled into Eve.
“How are you gonna watch the movie from there, Oksana?” Eve let out an amused chuckle.
Her baby responds by tugging at her shirt, and Eve realizes what Oksana wants. She’s glad she bought these pajamas for nursing, as she never knows when her little girl might need her. Eve opens the seam that cuts across her pajama shirt. There are two sections of overlapping cotton, so all she needs to do is lift the top section and make sure the bottom layer isn’t in the way.
“There you go, ‘ksana,” she murmurs, guiding Oksana’s head to her breast. “It’s okay.”
Oksana didn’t latch right away, she spent some time just smelling Eve. Feeling the warmth radiating from her and brushing her mouth over her soft skin. Eventually she found Eve’s nipple, and she latched properly; fitting her lips around the nipple and beginning to suckle.
“Good girl, so good… angel…” Eve whispers and begins to pet Oksana’s hair. “Mama’s girl.”
The world around them disappeared as mommy enveloped every one of her senses.
As deep as Oksana was in her headspace, Eve was just as deep in her role as Mommy. Her chest flooded with love and she hoped Oksana could feel it, that she was drinking her love right from the source. Eve loves her baby beyond words, beyond worlds.
Eve turns down the volume on the TV, and the movie fades into a hum in the background. Kis-Kis lays squeezed between them, her beady eyes and matted fur the picture of innocence, much like the sweet girl in Eve’s arms.
Oksana suckles slowly, her eyes fluttering shut when Eve arranges the blanket around her. Eve finds herself wanting to have Oksana like this all the time, and it’s a thought that lingers.
Just yesterday Eve drove by a store whose windows displayed baby wraps and carriers, and Eve wishes she could do that with Oksana—wishes she could wrap her up and wear her against her chest wherever she goes. Thinks about bringing Oksana with her to work like that, letting her baby girl sleep to the sound of her heartbeat while she does her mundane paperwork at her desk.
“My sweet baby,” Eve feels her own eyelids growing heavy.
It’s soporific—the gentle pull of Oksana’s mouth and the intimacy of it all. Oksana suckles slowly, rhythmically. Her hand clenches and unclenches around Eve’s shirt, and every now and then she sighs, or releases a tiny whimper.
“I love you so much, ‘ksana,” she strokes Oksana’s cheek with her knuckles. “How did mommy get so lucky?”
Oksana opens her eyes to look at her, and her expression is hazy. She blinks slowly, much like a cat, and then closes her eyes again. She snuggles further into Eve and her hands adorably curl against her own chest. Eve knows she is getting close to sleep, then.
“Sleep for a while, mkay,” Eve says to her. “Mommy’s got you, sweetheart.”
Eve brings her hand downwards and begins to gently pat Oksana’s bottom. The sensation surprises her at first, but then her body sags heavily against Eve. Eve’s patting finds a rhythm that matches her suckling, and Oksana feels herself lose the battle to sleep. This is how most nights end, one way or another; Oksana peacefully drifting off to sleep in her mommy’s arms, in a warm and safe place where no one can harm her.
Inside her head, Oksana is saying thank you and I love you, mama, but all that comes out is a hum as she drifts off to sleep.