I looked down at myself.
I was in a large black T-shirt and panties and nothing else.
The shirt looked familiar to me. It dwarfed my small frame, falling to my thighs.
Was this …
I was in Nikolay’s shirt.
I let out a small cry that surprised me as I looked around the room for some pants.
Surely, if I was in Nikolay’s shirt, they were fine, weren’t they?
Please let them be fine.
Fuck.
Tears stung my eyes.
Please.
I found some black track pants in the dresser by the foot of the bed. I pulled the string on the waistband to keep them from falling down, and I ignored how the pants legs moved past my feet. I pulled them up and quickly walked out of the room.
I was in a house.
A big house, from the look of it.
It didn’t look homey.
It looked almost like a museum, with antiques on display in every corner that I was afraid to get close to for fear of breaking something.
I found a huge staircase that led down to the spacious downstairs. The floors were made of either ceramic or porcelain, and I wiggled my toes against the cold, hard surface under my bare feet.
Where was I?
I debated going downstairs, but I didn’t want to run into someone I didn’t know.
Before I could decide, a familiar voice carried from the vast hallway on my left.
Blood rushed to my ears, and I heard nothing but that voice and my erratic heartbeat. I blindly followed the voice.
I knew that voice.
I picked up speed.
I needed to see him.
I needed to see him now.
I moved faster. I didn’t see any of my surroundings. Couldn’t see until I got to him.
I ran past a room before I realized he was in there. I stopped in my tracks and backpedaled to the room.
The door wasn’t shut all the way.
I pushed it open.
It didn’t make a noise.