Hey, so here is my new story! I spend seriously ages looking through VA fanfictions to make sure this was completely different, and it is! Yay! hehe I also spend ages on the internet researching Russia so that my story is accurate!
I don't want to give away the plot but Rose meets Dimitri when she moves to Russia after her mother remarries. Rose doesn't know about the vampire world yet.
Please Please Please give it a chance! Review and tell me if I should continue or stop.
Thank you x


Chapter 1

Sixteen. That's how old I was when mom decided to leave dad.

Seventeen. That's how old I was when mom decided she could drag me away from everything I knew, everything I loved. She pulled me, kicking and screaming, from Montanna and dumped me in Russian with her scabby new husband and two bitchy daughters.

I guess she moves on quick, huh?

Technically, I wasn't 'dumped' in Russia yet, but I failed to see how being on a plane headed there made anything better. Mom was so slack that she hadn't even arranged for me to get picked up.

I had to find my way to the train station -the helpful lady in the seat next to me provided that information- and then take it all the way to the outskirts of Omsk. What's worse is that I didn't even know Russia had running water until a few minutes ago.

The trip was seriously long, which only gave my mind more of an opportunity to think over how my life would suck from here on.

I had been able to knock myself out for most of the trip, sleeping so heavily I missed the airline lunch, which was probably not a bad thing considering how crappy airline food was. Normal airline food was pretty suspicious, but I couldn't even stomach it to imagine what they would serve up in a Russian plane.

Being unconscious for the trip was good, but now I had to endure the last half hour with my mind fully refreshed and clear. Great.

Moving a seventeen year old girl out of school near the start of Senior year and throwing her into a foreign school to finish it out is just beyond cruel.

Never mind that I might have wanted to stay with my dad. No. It was mom's way or the highway, and apparently that highway lead straight to this hell hole.

I was going to be forced to make new friends, which proved difficult wherever I went because none of the other girls ever liked me all that much.

My lunchtimes were destined to being a loner with people speaking in their confusing language around me, most likely about the new girl who was a loner.

I hadn't even met her new husband and his daughters, but somewhere, deep in my mind I knew they would be unbearable.

A faint chiming broke me out of my daydreaming and I glanced up to see the seatbelt light blinking.

I pulled up my tray and secured it back to the seat in front of me, clipping my seatbelt in and glancing our the window.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't a hellhole. It was sort of pretty in a way. There were no clouds in the sky and I could see the city already. It stumped me with its size. I had thought Russia would be all tiny little villages, not big cities -apart from Moscow- but further inspection showed that beyond the obvious city, civilization suffered.

I could see the faint line of train tracks cutting through the wild terrain and little groupings of buildings, but they didn't hold much of my desire.

I watched as the runway came closer and closer, and we touched down with barely a bump. Russian's may live in a strange country, but they were good pilots.

We were instructed to remain in our seats while the pilot idled, doing the thing they always do before letting passengers off. I wasn't in a hurry to get off and accept my new home, so I waited patiently until we were given the okay.

The lady next to me got up and passed my handbag from the overhead compartment down to me with a kind smile. She walked me through the hanger and into the luggage retrieval section.

"The station is just outside the car park." She directed me in her heavily accented voice, but at least she spoke English. She pointed out the automatic doors while I pulled the handle bar out of my bag. "Will you be okay?" She asked, her face contorted with worry.

I'd be worried too if I was in her position, seeing a young girl all by herself in a foreign country.

"Yes, thank you." I smiled at her and began walking to the station.

I reached it easily and went up to the ticket window.

"здравствуйте, что я могу сделать для Вас?" The young guy behind the counter spoke, smiling blankly, like it was part of his job description to always smile.

"Ah shit." I muttered, looking around to try get an idea on how to explain where I was needing to go. "I…uhh…" I frowned at how hard this was going to be, just as I tried again, he grinned.

"I speak English."

"Oh, thank God." I sighed, breathing out a relived laugh. "I need to go to the outskirts of Omsk." I spoke slowly, handing over my money.

I knew I probably made him feel like he was special needs, but hey, he could speak English, that didn't mean he was a genius or very good at it.

He took the money and handed me a ticket and change. "Get off at stage three."

"Thank you." I smiled politely and wheeled my bag through the now open gate.

I stumbled through it and onto the platform. There were a few people here already, some in groups, some alone.

That's when I saw him. When my life started.

He was leaning up against the back wall in a sort of rebel stance. I don't know whether it was his warm brown hair hanging to his chin, his tan skin and intensity or something else, but I found myself instantly drawn to him.

It was strange. As if up until now I had been asleep, or letting life just pass without caring or paying attention. But the person, this complete stranger made me feel so many contradictory things all at once. I felt excited and worried. Anxious and completely at peace. Confident and unsure. My entire self was being torn separate ways, and it seemed the only way to keep me all together was to be near him.

This was weird for me. I had had boyfriends, and actually liked flirting with most people.

I pulled my eyes away from him reluctantly and went to sit down in the groupings of seats, directly in front of him.

Once I was settled, I allowed myself one look back at him. His height alone was startling, he must have been about six foot seven but not lanky in any way, yet not bulky either. Much too old for me, I told myself even though I could not ignore my eyes desire to examine every detail of him. The way his brown hair, a bit lighter than my dark brown hair, was hanging sort of messily around his face, but not scruffy looking.

Or how his skin was a radiant, even tan, warm and smooth. Or the soft brown of his eyes, that were staring back at me, equally as examining.

It took me a few moments to react but with a stammer, I dragged my eyes away from his hold and turned back to the front. As the blush crept up my neck and into my cheeks, I couldn't help but consider that I had seen a smirk on his perfect lips.

I was suddenly extremely self conscious of how I looked from behind, which was stupid and totally weird for me too. I wasn't up myself, but I wasn't in denial either.

I knew I was pretty to other people.

But he was far too old -early twenties maybe- and wouldn't be interested in a stupid little schoolgirl with a broken family. I tried not to be hurt by that fact when I gathered myself up as the train shuddered to a halt in front of me. Walking on, I discovered it was a multi stage route -which I probably should have figured out when the ticket guy told me to get off at stage three- and there was hardly any seats left.

I went over to a man with a newspaper and brief case, asking if I could sit in one of the spare seats next to him. He looked me over then grunted before returning to his reading, I guess he could have not spoken English and had no idea what I was on about, but I thought differently, he was just a typical snob.

They're a friendly bunch here in Russia.

I sat with my big bag at my feet, handbag on my lap, playing with the flayed edges and keeping to myself as someone scooted into the seat on the other side of me, a waft of a smell so beautifully sweet, yet not feminine entered my nose right at that moment. The doors shut and the train stammered at first then began its course.

I subtly let my eyes drift sideways -to see who could smell so intoxicatingly earthy and rich- and into the strangely familiar brown eyes that were staring straight ahead. Staring into them, I realised I would never forget them, and that I had been stupid to consider the aroma coming from anyone else. They conveyed such secrecy, yet openness when they were turned on me for that short moment in the station.

It was comforting.

It was stupid.

But I couldn't help my heart doing a tight squeeze of relief that he had taken this train, and taken this seat. Hell! That I had come to Russia.


Please review and tell me what you think! I need to know if I have my mojo back hehe. Thank you x