The tight fit of her newly-bought suit made her feel like she was home, or wherever that made-up place was. Hinging on that sense of security that came with finally getting her job back with its reins— that recent experience with needing to rely on a man for her life, even temporarily, made her feel sick.

She had tried calling her organization for help, even if it meant exposing them through a public, unstable means of communication.

She also attempted calling her so-called beloved detective, who didn't pick up at all. Leaving her in utter distress.

Hotels were never her thing, if they weren't luxurious enough for her taste; it's good that they've actually provided her with shit to work with this time... except for the fact that there's a new handler given to her. You know, the person who makes sure she does her job correctly— a fucking surveillance camera looming around like a bitch as if she couldn't do it on her own.

Villanelle has killed her two previous handlers, almost fatally injured the other one, who's to say what she'll do to you?

"You told me to be boring and discreet," Lazily leaning into the comforts of the armchair, Villanelle's piercing gaze falls upon you. "So I did, but it was dreadful." A soft utterance of a complain, she picked up this job to not feel like a total bum who's bored out of her mind, not do more boring shit.

You bring up a certain someone, a detective that she's had a recent fixtation on— Villanelle's sworn that she gave up on that, the very moment she didn't return her calls.

"Are you trying to make me jealous, that Eve's pursuing this.. 'Ghost' case, instead of me?" Villanelle taunts, hands clasped over the other, hunched over the chair. Your nonchalance was irritating, but she was determined to get a rise out of you. You keep doing it to her, afterall.

"I'm not jealous, she can investigate that second-rate loser all she wants—" She states, scoffing. "I can do my mission just fine, without her tailing me at all."