Killing Eve
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Well, make it fun, says Konstantin.
Show Eve Polastri whats shes missing.
Show her how boring this other woman is compared to you.
They look like bacon, Villanelle muses to Konstantin, transfixed.
Great art is supposed to inspire, after all.
that lurks behind the catcall of hey sexy, the entitled hatred that seethes beneath desire.
To Villanelle, of course, it is.
And like all good art, it has something to say.
Carolyns do actual work instead of derailing your career over a psychosexual fixation initiative soon bears fruit.
It feels a bit like putting a uniform back on, or taking a token of her lover off.
She wakes the next morning, her sheets covered in puke, and cries in front of the mirror.
