Author's Note: Hi guys, this is my first drabble, hopefully as part of a collection! I really love romitri and I'm a little bit scared to post this, but please review :)
Disclaimer: story and characters belong to Richelle Mead
April 30th
POV: Rose
When Dimitri and I decided to get our own place, I was nervous. Not because I wouldn't be comfortable living with my boyfriend but because I had a suspicion (more like a concrete understanding) that the two of us have different ideas of what the word "clean" meant.
When you walked into my old apartment, you had to keep the lights on at all times because there was usually some type of unsanitary item on the floor, whether it was an empty pizza box or a bra or some food that had fallen to the floor and I was too lazy to pick up. My room was a whole different story. There was no way that my clothes were ever going to be folded and in my drawers, so the closet became the floor and bed. I had makeup strewn over the bathroom counter and lotion in every empty space.
When you walked into Dimitri's old apartment, you saw hardly any evidence that anyone lived there. The floor was spotless. The kitchen was full of glowing appliances that looked like they had never been used. In his living room there was a nook with all of his Western novels, and other Russian books whose titles were in that weird script they have. There was no TV because in his opinion it "wasted time." There was a single set of matryoshka dolls sitting on the edge of the coffee table, which I had managed to find out were given to him by his sister, Viktoria.
His room was the part of his home that I felt comfortable in. Not because of the bed aspect, but because it gave me more insights of who he was. His closet held a couple of dusters (contrary to popular belief, there are more than one. Dimitri wouldn't be so unhygienic as to not wash them frequently), formal guardian clothes, and those sweaters and t-shirts and jeans that made me feel weak at the knees. Some of these t-shirts went mysteriously missing and had been discovered in...my closet. On his dresser there were the only pictures that could be found in the apartment. The first: Him and his mother when he graduated from his academy in Siberia. He was looking at the camera with one of his rare deep smiles, his arm around Olena, who was looking up at him with so much love in her eyes I cried the first time I saw it. Second: his whole family and me from when he had traveled to Baia after he got restored as a strigoi. We were all sitting in the living room, my head resting on Dimitri's legs, and my arm around Viktoria. Olena and Yeva were sitting next to Dimitri on the couch, and Karolina, Sonya, and Paul was sitting on his other side. I could remember the atmosphere in this picture and that's what made it more special; they had just listened to Dimitri's story for the first time, in which everyone had broke down at least two times. The third (my personal favorite): Me and dimitri, sitting in his apartment. Lissa and Christian had walked in for dinner one day and she insisted that she take a picture of us because we "looked good." I had on sweatpants and a t-shirt, which is why I didn't understand her sentiment at the time, but after looking at the picture I understood. The picture was taken from far away and was fairly grainy like the rest of them, but you could see that my body was leaning on Dimitri, who had a light smile dancing on his face and his arms wrapped around my waist. We looked like we shared a secret, and there actually was one: around 5 minutes ago, we had "christened" the couch.
Those were the three pictures on his dresser. And even those he had made me help him meticulously pick out. So what would it be like when we moved in together? I found out when we were relaxing on the couch after moving into our new abode.
"So comrade, how do you like it?" I asked, as I massaged his back, which was sore because he was the typical guy and refused to let anyone help us do anything that he could do "perfectly himself."
"Mmmm" He seemed too tired to respond.
"I mean, do you like it this clean? Because its not going to stay this way."
He turned around to look at me. "Rose, I think you underestimate my organizational skills." Then I moved his head forwards with my hand because his grimace looked like he had torn a muscle. I laughed.
"When you asked me to move in with you, I thought you agreed to the fact that you wouldn't be so anal about everything," I quipped, digging my fingers into his flesh. His silky brown hair fell down to his shoulders and I put my lips to it.
"I only said that because you were...seducing me. And I refuse to be put in that situation again," he said, fake sternness in his voice. I could tell when he was actually stern; it was not today.
"So you admit to being anal?"
"I don't admit to anything, Roza, but if you leave your dirty dishes in the dishwasher again..." he trailed off, and I could tell he was smiling.
"Tell me what you'll do," I whispered in his ear, sliding my hands up his back.
He suddenly flipped me over and I giggled and we went into our new bedroom to christen it.
