Demyan
Ethan's large tall body loomed over like a shadow as I sat on the floor whilst I packed my bags. His mouth was in a permanent pout as he had his hands in his black trousers pockets. His suit's blazer was pushed back displaying his black silk shirt against his sandy beige suit.
He was the only person I had ever seen who made a sandy beige suit look good. Sometimes I got tempted to ask him who was his tailor because I would personally like to thank them for glorifying Ethan's god-like body.
It was early in the morning and we had just had breakfast with Vasilisa before I came up to pack my bags. I had to be in London before 1pm since I had practice at 3pm until late at night. That was also why Ethan had organised his jet to take me back to London at the last possible second.
"I don't want you to leave," he moped as he squatted down then hugged me tightly from the back and kissed the top of my head.