My dearest Rose,
One of the few downsides to being awakened is that we no longer require sleep; therefore we also no longer dream. It's a shame, because if I could dream, I know I'd dream about you.
He haunts her dreams every night, and she wakes up with his name on her lips. She wishes the dreams would just stop already, she wishes he wasn't in them, wishes she didn't have to wake up from the dreams where he's still there, dreams where he's still warm and alive and hers.
Always hers.
Sometimes she dreams about him falling, the stake protruding from his chest. His face. His ridiculous last words. Sometimes she dreams that he really did die that night; dreams that creates as much sorrow and grief as it does relief and pride. These emotions blossom in her chest, suffocating her until she has no idea where she is or who she is, until she knows nothing but his name and his eyes.
Sometimes it's her that falls. Her with the last words, looking up at his cold eyes and his icy smirk as she fallsfallsfalls. Her that fails, fails herself and fails him, who he truly is, by not being strong, by loving him too much, too selfishly, or not enough, to kill him.
I'd dream about the way you smell and how your dark hair feels like silk between my fingers. I'd dream about the smoothness of your skin and the fierceness of your lips when we kiss.
Mostly she dreams about that night, their night. She dreams about the cabin, flames, his hair between her fingers, tickling her as they kiss. His eyes, warm and tender and full of love.
Without dreams, I have to be content with my own imagination – which is almost as good. I can picture all of those things perfectly, as well as how it'll be when I take your life from this world. it's something I regret having to do, but you've made my choice inevitable. Your refusal to join me in eternal life and love leaves no other course of action, and I can't allow someone as dangerous as you to live.
Then his eyes turn colder, red rimmed, hard. His touch turns harsh, possessive. And he's lost to her again.
And she wakes up shaking. Feeling lost and empty and broken.
Besides, even if I forced your awakening, you now have so many enemies among the Strigoi that one of them would kill you. If you must die, it'll be by my hand. No one else's.
After these dreams she always wonders about herself, about who she is and what she fights for and believes in. about who she should have been, who she wanted to be, who he had taught her to be before all of this. She hates herself and the way she's so weak, so damn weak and broken. She has too many weaknesses, and the majority is about him, and she hates herself for that. She hates that she's so stupid, so weak that she somehow, in some completely screwed up way, found something to love in the monster that had destroyed her and took over the man that she loved, warped him into something cold and evil. The monster that destroyed her Dimitri.
She hates that she's so weak, that she's not as strong as she's let on to herself and the world, not as strong as she thought she was, as he thought she was. As strong as he's taught her to be. It seems like she's found a way to apply his Zen lessons to everything in her life except for him. She hates that this Dimitri, this thing with her Dimitri's face has so much power over her. That it had made her dillusional and yielding and powerless. Willing to do it's bidding just because of a simple face.
Nonetheless, I wish you well today as you take your trials – not that you need any luck. If they're actually making you take them, it's a waste of everyone's time. You're the best in that group, and by this evening you'll wear your promise mark. Of course, that means you'll be all that more of a challenge when we meet again – which I'll definitely will enjoy.
She's pretty sure that, had she truly been that good, she'd have killed him when she had to. But she hadn't and she's been dwelling on that thought for far too long. She should have killed him. She should still kill him. But that quest should be done. She's supposed to protect Lissa, and Lissa should come first. He might be the love of her life but it's time to move on, live her life. He would have wanted her to.
It's a funny line to walk on; choosing between his soul and her promise to him and what he would have said now, had he been here.
And we will be meeting again. With graduation, you'll be turned out of the Academy, and once you're outside the wards, I'll find you. There is no place in this world you can hide from me. I'm watching.
She has no idea what to do anymore. She's never had any idea how to be, how to react to some parts of him, but now it feels like she's being thrown against her own walls. Broken and bruised and bloody. She has no idea how to live with this, with him hanging over her head. But one thing's for sure. She's not hiding. She's been hiding too many things for too long; her feelings for him, her darkness, their secrets, her weaknesses. And she's tired of hiding.
She has no idea what to do about this. She's not sure what to do about the wrath of the man with the face that she loves.
Love,
Dimitri
But one thing she's sure about. This time she'll be stronger. No more hiding and no more weaknesses.
This time she'll kill him.
She hopes.