All Elliot could see, in the distance was Anasthasia strutting down the runway. Her voice commanded the stage, echoing to the nook and cranny of the stage alongside the snappy beats of her clacking white stiletto heels.
Her svelte body was now shrouded with a flared, floral print blue dress—long and loose enough to flutter well with her struts—with a white gold necklace and belt as accessories.
To him, it was breathtaking; she was simply too elegant from her walk. The wavy hair swayed to and fro, like her arms unbridled that brushed past her.
The spotlight was on her, casting a glimmering effect upon her while the rest was dim and unworthy to put into details.
"She's coming! She's on her way here!" Chloe squealed.
Charlotte was starstruck for a while, then breathed, "This is on another level."
"I agree," Hunter's voice went hoarse, not peeling off his gaze away from her. "She's like a deity we couldn't even fathom."
