Ksenia & Bryan
She wasn't sure what had caught her eye, drawing her out of the moment, blue eyes focusing on a figure in the crowd, unmoving in the crush of writhing, gyrating bodies. Ksenia froze, mid movement, her hazy widening as she looked like she'd seen a ghost. And she was seeing a ghost, the ghost, the demon from her past. Sevastien was unmoving, cold, dead eyes staring at her, covered in blood and she could almost feel the blood splashing down on her skin again as her murdered partner stared at her from the crowd of people who couldn't see him. If Bryan said something to her, she didn't hear him as the panic and fear bubbled up in the nocnitsa. She closed her eyes tight and opened them again, but he was still there, an unmoving, accusatory spectre the manifestation of her trauma and grief projected by her nightmare powers backfiring, but she was too drunk and fucked up to completely understand or cope with this. This wasn't the first time this had happened, but she had been hoping with the relocation to America with Nadya it would stop.
Turning away from the blood soaked phantom, her eyes were wild as they moved around the club, but no matter where she looked, he appeared, staring at her from the crowd of strangers. Pulling from Bryan's hands she didn't realize she was speaking in Russian, words Bryan clearly wouldn't understand, but were a denial of what she was seeing, telling herself he wasn't there. Turning in a circle, she felt like the walls were closing in that Sevastien was everywhere and she couldn't take it as the panic exploded in her and she bolted through the crowd, towards a door, any door, just needing to get out of there.