So hi guys! I wrote this, because I wanted to write a VA fanfic, even if it happened to be a one-shot. I found the perfect one, though, so that is awesome! Also, I'm posting a Twilight fanfic either RIGHT NOW or TOMORROW, and I promise Bella will have a backbone. I will seriously never write about a character without a personality. Bella will never make stupid choices like she did on the book unless they are REALLY EXTREMELY JUSTIFIED, and still, she probably won't. Promise.
Thanks to maxwaylandgrey for, uh, everything (AND I AM SORRY, OKAY?).
Review!
I am the most stupid person in the entire universe.
If you're going to ask me why I did it, then I won't give you a right answer. I was mad, and I know it's not an excuse, but I loved him. I loved him, and when I saw her with him, my heart shattered into a million pieces, like a glass would, and it was all silent. We were silent. Adrian looked at me with pleading eyes, begging for forgiveness, telling me he was sorry. But it was too silent. The silence was haunting. The world was still.
And then I screamed.
I didn't cry. It wasn't possible. I just screamed, and then everyone did the same, and when I opened my eyes he was gone, gone forever.
I don't think this matters, but I'll write it here anyway.
Love is not a thing you give up easily. Either you're in love, or you're not. And if you're in love, you'd never cheat—you have everything you want from that person. So I don't understand—I never will—why Adrian did what he did. He slept with Lissa! Out of all the people out there, he just had to pick my best friend and fuck her. He didn't love me. If that isn't proof enough, then I don't know what is. I, on the other hand, loved him completely. I loved all of him. It's the kind of thing I never thought possible. Who would fall in love with Adrian? He made me believe he would give me everything, including his heart. And I was stupid enough to believe him. When Dimitri turned into a Strigoi, I had a hard time letting go—of him, of what could've been, and of the life I wanted. But then Adrian started promising a new life and saying he loved me and you have to understand. I was heartbroken, shattered, like I am now, but this is worse—I had hope back then. He was my hope. So I chose to believe him. It started small. We went on dates, kissed eventually, stayed up until sunrise telling each other everything. It was cheesy. Adrian was like that. He made me believe I could have my own prince. He made me believe I could live my own fairytale, and I've never been into fairytales, but I know they have a happy ending, and I yearned for that back then, so I said yes. I said I'd be with him, in a real relationship. A real relationship.
"Do you promise?" Adrian asked me with sweet eyes.
I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Adrian. A real relationship with you. I promise." I smiled. And then he kissed me, a real kiss, and said he'd be good, he'd understand if I suddenly cried because I missed Dimitri. He kept his promise. I cried sometimes, at night. I had nightmares and daydreams and just general thoughts—thoughts that led back to the day I killed Dimitri, and to the day he became a Strigoi. Dimitri had been my real love. He made me cry. He broke my heart. And I know it wasn't his fault—it was never his fault—but he made me hurt so much. I didn't care about life. I only cared about him, about finding him and having a life with him. But there was no way. He died anyway. I killed him.
I let him go.
So when Adrian gave me this chance to love me, even if I whispered Dimitri's name while I was supposed to whisper his, I couldn't let him down. He wanted me to be happy, and he wanted himself to be happy. So I gave him—us—a chance to be happy.
It all went well. We were like before. Nothing changed—only he was more romantic, and I rolled my eyes a bit less, because I felt myself falling. Oh, and there was more sex.
What I didn't know was that he was with Lissa behind my back. And I found out the day Dimitri died.
Irony is a bitch.
It was too much for me to take. I didn't know who to tell, other than Christian, who listened to me as I told him what I did. I sobbed a lot. It wasn't like I wouldn't cry. I'm not made of stone. People don't believe that. They believe people like me—people who are trained to kill the Strigoi—have no heart. We are heartless.
But we're really not.
I told Christian two days ago how I staked Adrian. Lissa ran away before, but I staked him, and then I cried and begged and screamed because he had to come back, and I was sorry and stupid.
But then the regret stopped. I felt relieved.
I got my revenge.
No one suspected me. Lissa was gone—no one knows where she is now, not even Christian. But he's cried a lot. That's all I know. Sometimes he won't come out of his room. Sometimes he'll come into mine and thank me for not killing Lissa, and I laugh like it's a joke, but it's really not.
I would never kill my best friend.
But, then again, isn't that what I said about the people I loved?
When I killed Dimitri, a small part of me died. Adrian helped me feel alive. It sounds cheesy, but it's not. It's the truth, and the truth is a bitch.
Right now, what I want to do is run to someone who I'm not supposed to be with and be with them, because I can, because I want to. But, the thing is, that's not me. I won't do it. Christian is making sure of it. And I'd never be with him. He reminds me of Lissa.
My best friend. Who slept with my boyfriend for who knows how long.
My life is so fucked up.
Someone knocks on my door. I wipe the tears away—I hadn't realized I was crying until one of the tears fell in my hand—and go open the door.
The delivery guy is there. He takes in my disheveled appearance, gives me a nod, and hands me two letters.
"Do I have to sign for this?" I ask.
He shakes his head. "No. And, Rose? I'm sorry about your loss."
I nod quickly and, without a word, close the door. I open the first one. From an anonymous sender.
Rose, I'm sorry you had to find out about Adrian and I the way you did. It wasn't what it looked like. It had been a week since Christian and I started fighting. It was too loud. So I snuck into Adrian's bedroom. He was nice about it and let me sleep on the bed while he slept on the couch. You probably don't believe me. I do not blame you. But, Rose, you know me. You may not have known about us, but you know What you did was awful. But it's just that you've lost so much—I took more away. And I'm unbearably sorry. I hope you forgive me. This is not my address. It's someone else's. But send me a reply here. Please. I still love you. You're still my best friend. And we still have the bond.
-Lissa
I rip the letter without another thought. Send a reply, my ass. She was the one that slept with my boyfriend. She, at least, had the nerve to admit it. But it doesn't mean I'll send her a fucking reply. That's for sure.
I open the second one.
I've been watching you, waiting for the right moment to send this.
You forgot another lesson: Never turn back until you know your enemy is dead. Looks like we'll have to go over the lesson again the next time I see you—which will be soon.
Love,
D.
I stare at the letter. Is this a joke? But then there's the stake, the one I rolled out of the letter, the one that came attached to it.
I'm scared. I'm scared of hoping the same way I did with Adrian. But then, at the same time, I know Dimitri. And I know there's hope—I knew about Victor's brother, and the things he could do. He can help me. I know he can. That's the thing—he can help me, but I have to stupid things in order to communicate with him.
Like, for example, freeing Victor Dashkov.
My life just got even more fucked up.
Between Adrian (who I'll miss, yeah, but never forgive), Dimitri, and Lissa, I will go insane.
But first, I need to do the one thing, and that is write a letter back to Lissa.
Because she promised that, no matter what, she'd come with me next time.
And I need someone.
Now.