L.O.V.E.

Chapter 11 - Nerissa

They've been less than ten minutes in Ilya's room and it already looks chaotic. In her attempt to find the perfect outfits, she ventures in the hidden world of her built-in closet, throwing clothes everywhere. Some end up lying on the floor, while the rest either get stuck in the makeshift chandelier, or hang from the top of the wooden door.

Much to her dismay, Nerissa, who is sitting on the bed, watches her friend fooling around, as she tries on different pieces for the party. She can't stop wondering, how on Earth Ilya has gathered so many of them in one place, the old kind, long before the city was created. Her collection looks more like a museum, yet much more colorful and so different than her plain and monochromatic wardrobe.

Inside the house and away from the prying eyes, Ilya is back to being herself, singing and dancing with the pinkish robe she's about to wear next. She has always been like an open book around her – either sad or happy - she would never hide it. If only Nerissa was more like her, carefree and fun, but with the shadows of the past still haunting her at night, how could she? The stake is too high to even consider going astray.

Catching her daydreaming and shaking her head at God knows what, Ilya shapes the dress she holds in her hands in a tight ball and throws it in her face.

'Hey, what was that for?' Nerissa asks flabbergasted, her fogged mind still trapped in between worlds.

'Stop dreaming and get changed. You can't wear that at James party.' Ilya barks, disapproving of the grey robe she's wearing.

'What's wrong with it? I'm always dressed like this.' She retorts, huffing offended as she suddenly stands up and puts a hand on her waist.

'Exactly!' Ilya agrees, smiling. 'Now let's try to make you look less like you and more like a human being, shall we?' She continues on the same humorous tone, beckoning her with a wave of her finger.

Nerissa crumples the dress in a cannonball and aims it back at her. The cloth flies a couple of feet in the air, only to fall pathetically on the floor.

'Nice try!' Ilya mocks her and they both start laughing at once.

Nerissa could never be upset with her friend, no matter how harsh her words can be sometimes. Their friendship means the world to her, and besides, Ilya has always wanted what is best for her. She finally surrenders and tries on the clothes laid for her on the bed.

'These are not even worthy to be called one-piece,' she remarks, looking offended, as she pulls the fifth dress over her hips, trying unsuccessfully to hold it down.

She might not be as tall as Ilya, but her hourglass figure is more voluptuous than hers. Instead of the too short and barely covering dresses, she opts for a safer option - a pair of black jeans and a blue T-shirt. Its washed-out print stretches over her round bust, the hem revealing enough skin to make her blush. It's not perfect, but at least she feels more comfortable.

On the other side of the room, Ilya twirls around in a floral dress, which she matched with a pair of brown leather sandals. She looks like an old Brit character, Nerissa read in one of her grandmother's books, from a time when wars were fought with gunpowder and man force. She cannot help but marvel at her beauty, the epitome of sophistication and sexiness combined.

'It's time.' Ilya states matter-of-factly, while she takes another look in the mirror.

They ditch the car a few miles after reaching the fringe, behind a mountain of scrap metal and car parts. If the stories were true, then this obscure and long-forgotten part of the city should be roaming with creatures of the walls. Nerissa is well aware that old scary tales are just that, stories meant to keep the children out of the divide, yet she can't help but feel a little edgy being so close to it. They continue the rest of their journey by foot, following a gravel road into the darkness. The sun has already set, inviting the nocturnal animals to come out of their lairs and hunt for their food.