Demyan
"Is she coming?" I asked Vasilisa nervously as she walked out of the elevator, well she did not walk out of the elevator because Igor was carrying her but you get my point.
"She's forcing herself in an old dress," she laughed, "It looks like a crop top."
I could not help but laugh once Igor put Vasilisa down. "Is her mum helping her?"
"It's been the fight of the century," Igor chuckled, "I think she can detect you're up to something."
Just as we were chatting, Nika sent me a text that Malia was coming downstairs. I had been waiting for an hour so I was extremely glad.
The elevator dinged indicating her arrival and Malia came out with her hair down, light makeup on her face, her feet had somehow been stuffed into sandal heels; her toes looking like tiny baby potatoes, she wore a flowy skirt and I suspected her top used to be a blouse but now it was more of a crop top leaving her stomach all exposed to London winter.
