Hey.

This is a one-shot about Rose and Dimitri. It takes place in Last Sacrifice, as a rest break at vegas for a night. Enjoy and Review!

Disclaimer: I Don't own Vampire Academy or any of the other novel in the series. It all belongs to Richelle Mead.

I slapped him. Hard.

Dimitri watched me shocked, his palm on his cheek.

"What was that for?" He exclaimed.

"This is all your fault!" I shrieked, picking up an empty wineglass from the bedside table and flinging it at his head. He dodged to the right.

"Me? You're just as much to blame! Even more so then me!"

"Me?" I screeched incredulously. He pointed a finger dangerously at me.

"Yes, you."

I threw my hands up in the air. "How is this my fault? It was your fucking idea!"

"You're the one who started it in the first place!"

"I told you to relax and let loose, not down the whole bar!"

"Let loose? Relax?" he asked, moving closer to me. "Rose, you gave me the glass, vodka and ice!"

I glared at him. "I gave you a friendly nudge," I seethed.

"And I only suggested the idea. You could have said no," he told me, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I was drunk! I practically inhaled half the fucking inventory!"

Dimitri clapped his hands over his ears. "Would you please stop yelling?"

"Dimitri, Adrian is going to kill me! Do you have any idea how hurt he's going to be?"

He raked a hand through his messy hair, taking a frustrated sigh. "Then buy him a puppy or a balloon."

"A balloon? That's your great answer? You fucking married me, Dimitri! You can't just give him a damn balloon!"

"You're right," he muttered, sitting down on the bed. I noticed how his hard muscles flexed under his tan skin. Tearing my gaze away from his bare upper body, I looked back at his face. He looked tired and bags hung under his eyes. Yet, something about his eyes told me he wasn't entirely unhappy about our wedding. "How about we send him a postcard from our honeymoon?"

If you'd asked me six months ago about waking up in bed next to a naked Dimitri, I would have been through the roof with happiness, but now . . . well things had changed. And it wasn't as though I just woke up next to him. I had slept with him. I had married him.

Flinging myself onto the bed next to him, I sank my face into my hands. Dimitri rubbed my back.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"You don't get it," I wailed. "He's . . . I mean . . . he's my boyfriend! B-but now, you're my husband! Dimitri, I'm too young! I can't get married!"

"I know," he whispered. "But don't worry, we'll work it. Adrian's a good man – he'll understand. He'll probably even volunteer to pay for the divorce."

Divorce?

I raised my head a bit of the bed. "Divorce?"

"Well, yes."

I rolled off the bed, placing my hands on my hips.

"Excuse me? Who the hell do you think you are to give me a divorce?"

"Rose, please understand-"

"-how dare you? I thought we had something special!" I shouted, pointing to the ring on my finger.

Dimitri's eyes grew wide in panic. "Ros-Roza, it was a drunken mistake!"

"When you put this ring on my finger, you said your vows, Dimitri Belikov! Wait til your mother hears of this. Marrying a girl and then divorcing her the very next morning – after you slept with her? Your mother's going to be so proud!" I huffed.

"You said you didn't want this marriage!" he roared.

"No! I said I was too young and that Adrian would be hurt. I'm not signing any papers," I replied moodily.

"Ros-" he tried again, but I held up my hand to stop him. Conversation over. Walking over to the bathroom in my robe, I paused at the door.

"And fetch me some doughnuts, Husband."