Sorin Florescu approaches Nikita's house rather reluctantly. The apology to come would taste bitter on his tongue, but he supposes that Nikita deserves it. He knocks on the door, ready for another session of verbal abuse. "I'm here to apologize," he announces a bit loudly, in hopes that Nikita won't simply turn him away.
She dragged herself, this time a corpse living in the house of Nikita Lehane, her bare feet barely supporting her on the ground. She was rather light-headed, looked horrible and irreproachable. Good. This served her well.
The lookout shyly peeked through the door, seeing that her visitor had been the former blackmailer - what was considered a mafia boss, a long time before - Sorin Florescu.
She nearly cracked a smile, god. She was rather glad to have him here - but also, was he here to blackmail her more? Nikita is not in the mood to be coerced, ever since Nathan’s death, which left her again in shambles.
“S-Sorin? Come - come in. It’s a bit of a mess. I also apologize,” She opened the door for him to come in, stepping aside to let him enter. “I haven’t… seen you in a while. What happened?”