WHO: Bianca and Kostya WHEN: Backdated to December 23rd WHERE: Bianca's apartment WHAT: Gifts, Kostya-style RATING: TBD
She never missed work. Yes he knew this for a fact because he did frequent Hotel Rome with one particular mission in mind. And her name was Bianca. Why? Well it really didn't do anyone much good to ask that question since Kostya rarely had much of an answer. Other than he damn well felt like it. In reality he didn't actually have a coherent reason for what he did... he just simply did it. Life was far easier when you didn't ask too many questions and that applied to Kostya's own personal thoughts as well.
Where the fuck was she? He had something for her damnit. And it was living, had always been living and he had no present plans to kill it.
It wasn't often that Kostya gave gifts that people actually wanted. He felt as though anything he gifted to anyone was something they ought to cherish. People rarely agreed with him apparently. But Christmas was Christmas... not that Kostya had any particular affinity for the holiday but he did try for his sister. And by try he meant procured a gift or two and even let her put up a tree with the sad few decorations they had.
The bag that was secured to the back of his motorcycle meowed as he cut the engine and set the stand. He seemingly paid no mind to the sounds the bag was making as he unstrapped the stiff sided bag and slung it under his arm. It was her apartment building, he didn't even need to check. Kostya knew that fact. Like he knew far too many other facts about Bianca Carducci. No matter what he knew though, she was still the spoiled little princess he thought her to be. Spoiled little princess with big bad protectors that he looked forward to pissing off.
He made his way into the building, security what? And made a direct path to her door. He knocked but was well prepared to pick the lock if she didn't feel like answering.