Being forced to move so many states away from all that he once knew, Nessa was nervous to tackle his new life. Fortunately, it didn't take long for Nessa to meet a plethora of unique individuals who welcomed him into their lives:
The optimist, the k...
He got one last good look at Kris' red face. In the midst of chaos, he couldn't help but wonder what had caused Kris to be the man that he was. Or did anything have to happen at all? Some men were simply born to be evil. Nessa was sad to think that Kris was probably one of them.
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On the long list of reasons as to why Ilya was a fuck up — a list originally devised by his parents — the last thing that Ilya wanted to add was Kiwi hating him. Had he been selfish in the way that he acted around him? He wasn't exactly sure as to what he was doing wrong, but he was going to do everything in his power to fix it.
As Ilya walked up the stoop to Kiwi's house, he couldn't help but realize that he hadn't had sex in several days. The bar hadn't been a frequent spot as of late, his mind too preoccupied with other things. More than anything, it was thoughts of Kiwi and how he was doing. Something was clearly bothering him, and it was more than just whatever Ilya was doing.
He asked Emi if she knew anything, but she insisted that he hadn't told her what was going on. She said that they weren't talking as much as they used to, because she had been too preoccupied with all the drama surrounding Keely and her. Ilya understood, but that only made more questions surface.
Emi and Keely were surrounded by their faults, Venice and Nessa were growing more and more close, and all along Ilya was busy flirting with Ian. Who did that leave for Kiwi? There were waves of guilt welling up within Ilya as he realized how blind he had been. He never wanted for Kiwi to feel so alone.
Ilya knocked on the door, feeling a cool breeze ruffle his clothes. He knew that he wasn't dressed in the best manner to be going to Kiwi's house, but he simply couldn't bring himself to wear something else. Even when it was Kiwi's parents that hated him, he felt like it was wrong to wear something that he normally wouldn't. He would be lying straight to their faces.
That was why Ilya still wore his black torn jeans that showed off more of his pale thighs than he thought was appropriate for the occasion, along with a bright white cropped turtle neck. He was more modest than usual, and yet his demeanor transformed the outfit into something just as lewd as usual. He didn't feel as though he were awful for dressing that way, because he was himself no matter what. That was what he always preached, so that was what he would practice.
After a few cold breezes that reflected the rapid approach of winter, the doorknob twisted. Ilya loved the snow because it reminded him of his childhood. Though Russia would always be far more severe with its coldest months and snowfall, Chicago had enough snow to be better than none. What he hated was the level of pollution and filth, because that certainly put a damper on his favorite season.
"Ilya?" The voice caught his attention, causing Ilya to snap out of his thoughts and focus on the woman in the doorway. Her Afro must have been recently cut, pushed back by a thick black headband. She wore a cozy blue sweater and mom jeans. Her expression was definitely not enthusiastic.
