Lips twisting in a grimace, Lily pushed the door open. By the time she'd stepped into the apartment (Nadia's, she reminded herself), her face was a pleasant mask, the expression carefully chosen. Her gaze swept over the furnishings, making quick aesthetic judgements. The color of the walls screamed Christmas too much to bring her any comfort, the lingering effects of Roselle's parentage. But everything was a mess, and it was a mess Lily could (surprisingly, maybe) appreciate. Moving was as tedious an affair as remodeling (though remodeling more enjoyable to be sure), so she didn't begrudge her "neighbor" for it.
Stepping delicately around the boxes and paint cans, she poked her head into the kitchen. "Nadia?" She expected someone younger, truthfully, than the redheaded woman in the kitchen. Maybe a college student, or someone close to graduating. But while Nadia (if it was Nadia) looked young, she certainly wasn't that young. Interesting. "Hello."