Isn't it funny how the simplest thing can be enough incentive to bring out the jealousy that resides within you, building up and boiling over at the most seemingly insignificant little action or word? Oh great Rose, you're back to primary school maturity level. It's not like he swept her off her feet and carried her off to his room for heaven's sake.
And yet it was with a red haze through which I watched him laughing at her, for lack of better wording, pathetic attempt to throw a punch at Dimitri, only to be knocked off her balance from the exertion. In all the precious time that I spent with Dimitri, a time that seemed like a different life from now, I had only ever managed to get a smile out of him on the rare occasions that I caught him off guard.
And yet here he was, laughing openly at Lissa's expense, his soft Russian accent, which I once found so endearing almost pushing me over the edge. Couldn't Lissa see what this was doing to me? I stopped there, scolding myself for even considering that my best friend would ever knowingly take part in something that would hurt me. I doubted that she even realised that I was watching, considering that I didn't exactly bother to alert her of my current presence.
This isn't you Rose, I told myself, you were never that girl. And yet here I am, having shameful thoughts about my best friend; crying myself to sleep on more occasions than my pride would ever let me admit over a guy that felt nothing for me, moreover he loathed the sight of me. I was practically hiding from the pair of them. Rose Hathaway hiding. Two years ago I would have scoffed at the idea of a boy reducing me to this.
But then, this wasn't just a boy. It was Dimitri. The man I loved. The man with whom I spent a year fighting our feelings for each other, and just when it seemed like we could be together (not really be together, but at least in secret), he was taken away from me. The man I literally travelled to the other side of the world to save. And more recently, he was the man who claimed he could no longer love. And if he could no longer love, then he had no place in his life for me.
Love fades. His words were still etched permanently in my mind, and their resurfacing caused tears to well up in my eyes. Not here, I told myself. I would save them for tonight, as I always did. Up until that very moment, I hadn't believed him for one second when he first came back. How could he not love me? I refused to believe that after everything I had felt, everything I was sure that he had felt too, could amount to nothing. Love fades. Would mine ever? I already knew the answer. No. I would never stop loving Dimitri.
It was at that moment when I zoned back into reality, only to wish that I hadn't. My hands clenched up into fists, my chest tightening up, and I watched as Lissa 'caught him off guard' and they both tumbled onto the floor together. Dimitri was never caught off guard. He was a god, lethal yet graceful.
I was happy that Dimitri was now free of all but one guardian as protection, one which happened to be a close friend of his. It meant that society was one step closer to accepting him as a Damphir. But surely if he was still subject to his previous security scheme there would be no hope in hell that those guardians would ever let Dimitri spar like this with Princess Vasilissa, the last of the line of Dragomir's.
Of course Stan, Dimitri's only remaining guardian, knew that Dimitri would never let harm come to Lissa. In fact, he was encouraging Dimitri and laughing heartedly, the way no serious guardian would...the way I might laugh if Dimitri would talk to me. The few times he had talked to me lately were to ask me to leave him alone, something I all too willingly did; anything to get away from the conflicted glare that he would fix on me, full of frustration, hatred and at times what I would swear was longing.
I got the sudden urge to watch the scene from Lissa's point of view. Looking back on it, I was ashamed at myself for even wanting to pry into her mind, to know for sure what she was feeling. All I could think was the effect he had on women, and how impossible it would be to be so close to him without some sort of reaction.
But of course, Lissa only had eyes for one man, Christian. Don't ask me what she sees in him. Christian and I shared a love hate relationship of sorts. Lissa likes to think that it's because we're too similar and too full of pride to ever fully except each other. I on the other hand, like to pin it on his biggest flaw. His personality. Okay, so that was a bit harsh, he wasn't all that bad. He's saved Lissa from herself when I couldn't, and if it weren't for him, Dimitri might still be strigoi or dead. He saved him, and in that, he saved me. I owe him more than I could ever repay.
But of course my recklessness, even more so enhanced by my jealousy, stopped me from seeing straight. And so it was into Dimitri's beautiful, brown eyes that I stared into, so filled with warmth for Lissa, not in a romantic way as anyone else that hadn't spent hours studying his demeanour like I had might conceive. It was filled with admiration and wonder, like she was his idol. That still didn't make it any easier for me to control my feelings.
But no matter what my feelings might be towards him now, I still couldn't help but to stop and admire the beauty of his face. Surely there was some cosmic law that stopped anybody from being so strikingly amazing. I followed his flawless skin down his perfectly structured jawbone. He obviously hadn't shaved for a while, but the stubble looked good on him; made him more impossibly sexy.
His ridiculously gorgeous face was framed by long, dark brown hair, running down to almost shoulder length, and complimenting his eyes perfectly. It was out today in a casual disarray that worked so well for him, as opposed to his usual ponytail. I liked it better this way, but Dimitri was nothing if not practical.
Lissa's thoughts weren't where I expected them to be. They were on me. She was worrying profusely. I haven't been out all that much as of late, and in the few short times that I had, I had made sure to steer well clear of Lissa, using the bond to avoid her presence. I knew that where Lissa was, Dimitri would be. I can only be rejected by him so many times, and I don't think it's in me to withstand the pain that one more encounter like the last would bring. Not even for Lissa.
Still I missed her like crazy and yearned for her company nearly as much as I yearned for Dimitri. I tore myself from this familiar stranger who he had become, coming back into my own head. With these frustrating thoughts conflicting through my head madly, I stood up, apparently a bit too abruptly.
Suddenly, I had a dozen guardians on me. I forcedly froze into place, scolding myself for the rash action. Surely by now I would start remembering the consequences. Then again, it's hard to get used to the fact that your every move is guarded by twelve guardians, all of whom believe that you murdered their queen.
Well, not all of them. A surprising amount of them had barely graduated, considering the fact that they were meant to be guarding a top-security, criminal mastermind. Not only were they barely graduates, some were just sixteen years of age. The newly instated law claims that Damphir's now became legible for graduation the moment they turn sixteen.
Some of the gutsier, and more often than not the slightly thicker ones, jumped at the chance to graduate. The more idealistic students however, took to the new rule with reluctance, but unfortunately had no choice in the matter. They would have to graduate whether they liked it or not.
So there were those few former fellow attendees of St. Vladimir with which I had befriended who knew me well enough to know that I would never commit to anything like murder of the queen, and then some strangers with a damn good judge of character who believed me in my small clan. Five of twelve.
Still, these few allies couldn't exactly voice their beliefs or show any hesitation in pinning me to the ground when a visible threat reveals it's self. Any fraternisation with someone as 'dangerous' and tabooed as me would result in accusations of association. I would never ask them to do that, but did they really have to be so convincing? Surely they didn't have to hit me with that much force.
"I'm just getting up so that I can go back to my room," I breathed, my eyes closed in concentration. Losing my temper wouldn't help the situation, which I learnt in the first few days of having my own mob following me around. "Does anybody have a problem with that?" Most of the faces remained blank, in true guardian form; however some of the younger ones had the decency to look slightly abashed and embarrassed.
Breathe, I told myself, it's better than jail, it's better than jail... And that's what I continued to tell myself the entire walk to my room. I had learnt to mostly ignore the formation of guardians around me, and the looks of disgust that I got from some of the passers-by, on majority royal Moroi. The stale stench of cigarettes and alcohol alerted me to his presence before I even lay eyes on the handsome face of Adrian Ivashkov, the tall, dark Moroi leaning against the wall, unnervingly resembling a model gone bad.