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...
What Nessa soon learned, was that Venice had been telling the truth. By the time he got home, he was questioning whether or not Venice actually had a license. According to Ilya, he did. Nessa wasn't sure he believed that, though. However, he liked the way Venice took protective glances in his direction. Or the way Kiwi and Ilya kept making him laugh. But he didn't like the brooding silence emanating from Emi, who didn't so much as look in anyone's direction. The spot next to her seemed painfully empty.
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She was looking around with curious eyes. He felt a bit uncomfortable, but he said nothing. Instead, Ian walked into his bedroom and sifted through his clothes. He returned to her with an old t-shirt and some sweatpants.
Keely took them with hesitant hands, as though unsure of what to do once she had them. It didn't take long for her to start nodding her head, setting them down on the coffee table and gripping the bottom of her dress without warning.
"You can go into the bathroom, you know." Ian huffed, face turning red as he spun on his heel to face the other way. He needed to gather clothes for himself, but he wasn't really sure what he was supposed to do. Emi rarely came to his place when they were together, and other than her, he had never had a girl over. It bothered him that he even cared.
"I really don't care." She replied. Then said, "I'm done."
He turned back around just in time to see pretty much every part of her, because she was not actually done. She was in the middle of pulling his shirt over her head. Instantly, he closed his eyes and scowled even deeper. "You said that you were done."
"I am." Was all Keely said. Once he opened his eyes again, he noticed that she had not bothered with his sweatpants, opting for nothing more than his old t-shirt. A t-shirt that was old enough to not be entirely opaque, Ian noted. Her clothing was pooled onto the carpet, certainly leaving a massive wet spot. He would have scolded her for it, but he knew that his own soaked clothes were dripping everywhere as well.
"I'll put these into the dryer, that way you'll have them back in the morning." Ian told her, gathering up her dress and undergarments into his arms.
"Don't have the heat on high." Keely's hair was still a distraught mess, and Ian was beginning to feel bad for her even more so. It didn't seem possible for her to brush those tangles out all on her own. She hadn't even bothered to pull it out from beneath his shirt, leaving it to pool around her shoulders in a wet mop, and then the very end to peek out beneath the bottom of the shirt. "The fabric isn't made for high heat, and I can't get another dress like it."
"Right." Ian nodded, not entirely sure what that meant, but he did as she asked anyway. He stopped in his room again to quickly grab himself a change of dry clothes, and then rushed to the laundry room. He took his clothes off and replaced them, turning the dryer onto the right setting. By the time he returned, Keely was standing in the exact same place, equally as indecent as she had been moments before.
