𝒊𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 | ʜᴇʟᴍᴜᴛ ᴢᴇᴍᴏ

𝟗 ᴅᴇꜱɪʀᴇ

high town, madripoor

Sharon's home was a true criminal's playground, filled with real classic art and pieces only dreamed of by collectors. The lights in the staging area were neon and beautiful, reminiscent of a European club. Sam seemed to be the only one who didn't believe that the pieces were real, but Kalina agreed as Bucky made the exclamation that the paintings in the Louvre were fake. The Falcon was still skeptical, until he pulled up a Google search with several sources reaffirming Bucky's notion.

"You guys need to change. I'm hosting clients in an hour." Kalina had followed along behind Bucky, after lingering awhile to admire a Monet piece, but Sharon's voice drew her attention to her own attire, reminded of her aching feet in the too large heels. She desperately wished to get out of her sleazy dress and into something more comfortable and with less implication that she was for sale.

She moved close to Helmut as he waited for her to approach the group, followed closely by Sam who was still engulfed in his phone search. They made their way to Sharon's apartment above the gallery, and began to shuffle inside. Moving into the space, Kalina noticed a rack of clothes, finding it quite odd that she happened to have both men and women's items stocked for whatever reasons.

Noting her confusion, Sharon laughed. "I host a lot of... events. Some of my partners still don't understand the importance of dressing to the occasion. I keep this lot here to ensure they don't embarrass me."

Kalina looked at the labels of the clothes: all high end name brands from Prada to Salvatore Ferragamo. She was impressed, and returned a look that matched her feelings. Pained by her feet, she quickly leaned over and pulled off the heeled boots she wore, kicking them to the side. Her feet were bleeding slightly at the hot spots, and she winced as the new air hit her raw flesh. The vodka she had drank in Selby's club, and the adrenaline from the gunfight, had worn off, and she felt every cut on her body.

"Feel free to take whatever." Sharon looked to her feet as Kalina rose. As the blonde walked away, the Sokovian pulled a Balenciaga piece from the rack, biting her lip as she reached an arm upward, reminded of the man's tight grip on her at the club.

Bucky and Sam rummaged through the clothes opposite, and Helmut waited idly by a small bar, already pouring himself a drink. He was clearly comfortable with how he was currently dressed. Kalina's only concern was finding correct fitting shoes that allowed her to cover her blistered feet with bandages and socks. The idea of wearing heels again tonight made her cringe.

Taking her finds into a nearby bathroom, she allowed the men to change, certain she would find shoes eventually, but wanting to tend to her feet in the meantime. As she undressed, she finally saw the bruise on her bicep as it rose to the skin. Touching it lightly, she let out a sharp gasp, wishing she hadn't. The muscle had begun to swell and she regretted not pulling a long sleeved shirt from the rack, instead opting for the cap sleeved one resting on the counter.