#zia.

“it looks like your sparring skills haven’t suffered in my absence.” 

Beth frowned at Zia. Of course, the other woman looked essentially perfect. Beth had struggled to find a dress that fit her body and her budget, and now standing next to Zia she still felt bland. “This party is pretty boring, right?” 

“you’re in your element now, aren’t you? i wonder how many of these russian creeps know who we are. if they catch us, what do you think they’ll do?” 

This had been the part she was dreading most: seeing Zia again. There were many emotions tangled up around each other. She could only identify a few of them: guilt, dread, bitterness, anxiety, and of course that small remaining shred of envy. As Beth exited her room, having just finished unpacking, she stepped back out into the hallway in the hopes of returning to the living room to resume her conversation with Tallahassee. But instead she ran into Zia, who also happened to have the room next door to hers. 

Beth gulped, and looked at Zia with eyes full of hesitance, “Hey, I, um . . .hello. Again. Hello again. You know, for the first time in a while.” 

“I seriously thought I was going to leave the habit of wearing a tight costumes back in my twenties. But I suppose you’re used to this. . . being a dancer and all. Getting all sexy and putting on a show.”