So the guys on Twitter have won… they've made me write a Romitri fic. AU. No one's a Moroi or anything! All human. Shits and giggles included. It's rated M for a reason. *Whistles innocently* Well, I hope you like my first proper shot at writing a Romitri fic and review my cupcakes! If enough people want more, I'll write more.

-For Rayane, Ana, Molly, Maisie and Amoolya and the gang. My bloodwhores.-

The Madness Underneath

He had one seriously rocking bod. Really. Thank god my sunglasses were so dark, or the god waxing his surfboard would have spied me staring at him.

An elbow nudged me in the side. "He's hot," Lissa whispered into my ear. After another appreciative glance at the surfer, I turned my head to her. She was sat beneath an umbrella with a pattern of blue spots upon white, wide dark sunglasses sat snug before her eyes.

"Poor Christian" I teased her with a smile. "Fishing for hotter, older stuff now are we?"

Even though she slapped my bare arm lightly, it still hurt like a bitch.

The surfer had straightened up now, his back to us. Damn, perfect ass as well. His back, like his chest, you could break a hand punching. He was also sporting a light tan that went with his long and ragged dark brown hair. His eyes were brown as well, as deep and as dark as the chocolate fountain Lissa had at her last birthday party.

Wow, it was a scorcher this afternoon. Lissa had such fair skin that she burned like overdone toast. Except she didn't come out black and crunchy, she turned the brightest red possible and could barely sleep for weeks for how bad the burns could get.

Hot surfer dude turned around and hell-o those black shorts were tight. Especially at the front. When he came out of the water, I'd have to snap a picture. Being on the beach was turning me into some crazy bitch who stared at guys crotches as they waxed their surfboards. Still, didn't everyone?

Lissa stretched out her legs before her, making sure not to dangle one outside the safety of the umbrella. She'd closed her eyes no doubt. She only had them for Christian. Ugh.

"Are you still staring?" she sighed ten minutes later. I looked away from surfer dude. "Am not."

"If you like him that much, just go over and say Hi then."

Now that sounded like an idea. "Sure," I told her, swinging my legs over the side of the sun lounger. "Wish me luck."

Lissa said nothing. When I snuck a glance, her earphones were in and I could hear the tinny music of Lady Gaga of all people playing. Was that Bad Romance? Really?

"Hey-!" she yelled as I tugged the earphones out on my way. She could have them back when she had a more decent playlist.

His back was still turned to me as I walked through the scorching sand that was burning the soles of my feet off. Should have slipped into flip-flops. Every step was like walking on red hot lava.

At least the bikini I was wearing was the best one I had. Blood red with a pattern of roses in maroon. Yes, Lissa had bought me it. I'd told her I was only wearing it because of her, but the truth was I loved it. It wasn't tacky in any sense.

When I stopped behind the man, the waves were so close. A few meters and the surf would be washing over our feet. The ocean was clear and a perfect pale blue that mirrored the sky. God I loved Miami.

After one more appreciative glance at the perkiest ass I'd seen in a long time, I asked "how long have you been surfing?"

He stopped his waxing and turned to face me, a frown upon his face.

Oh damn. He was older than I'd first thought. By, uh, more than five years that was for sure. "It's to stop you slipping off" he told me. Oh fuck, he even had an accent. Double the hotness. Plus he was even bigger than I'd first imagined… in both senses of the word.

I had been so distracted with how gorgeous his accent was, and how much I'd like him to whisper some downright questionable things into my ear that I hadn't noticed him adding something on the end of his waxing comment. I smiled and nodded, hoping he hadn't noticed my lapse in concentration.

His frown returned and deepened. "You don't look the surfer type?"

Crap. He must have asked if I surfed too. "Sure," I lied. "I love surfing. One of my favorite things to do on the beach." Besides staring at your ass through my sunglasses.

The man smiled, and it truly lit up his face. Such perfection should be illegal. He had nice hands. I bet they were good for other things too.

"Do you want to try?" he asked. I smiled and shook my head, raising my hands to my hair to brush them from my shoulders. "No. I've surfed, but I'm not that good." I hesitated. "Actually, I just came over to say hi. I've never surfed before. I'd probably break my neck somehow, and then drown. Or get stung by jellyfish." Another pause. "Or the eaten by sharks option."

"That would be a genuine shame," he smiled. "What's your name?"

"Rose. And you?"

"Dimitri," he answered, hoisting his board up onto his shoulder. Damn, the way his muscles seemed to ripple with the effort. He wasn't some teenage boy, but a true man. I bet he knew how to do things teenage boys could never even dream of. And I wanted to find out personally if I was right.

"Dimitri. That's Russian. Isn't Miami… well, too hot for you? I think of Russia and think of endless snow. There's nothing there."

He laughed. He actually laughed. His chest rumbled as he chuckled. Strands of dark brown hair fell into his eyes. How was he not even sweating on such a hot day like today? Especially if he was from the middle of Narnia.

"There's a lot there in Russia, Rose," he assured me. "It's not… Narnia." It was like he'd read my mind.

I shrugged, going in for the kill. "Well, you could tell me more about Russia over a few drinks later on?" that was bold. Even for me.

Dimitri cocked a brow, face blank. "Are you always this fast?"

"Who knows?" shut up before you embarrass yourself Rose. Please. I shrugged again. "There's a nice bar on the seafront if you want to catch a drink there?" Cheeks, don't you dare go red.

He looked mildly surprised, but then his face returned to expressionless. "You look a little too young for drinks, Rose."

I huffed up like a cat that had been dropped into a bath full of cold water. "I'm not a little girl."

"Is nine too late for you? I have some business to take care of before then. And I leave tomorrow."

I nodded. "That's fine. I leave tomorrow too." Back to the middle of nowhere and it's craptastic private academy. If it wasn't for Lissa, I would have walked out by now. "The Oceanstar at nine, then?"

"It's a date," Dimitri teased me, hoisting his surfboard more onto his shoulder. "I'll see you there, Rose." He then turned and walked off into the surf.

Lissa shook her head in disbelief when I returned to her and told her the news. She perched her sunglasses atop her blond head, eyes almost like jewels. "Are you serious? You were gone barely ten minutes."

"What can I say? I have charm," I told her sweetly, sliding back onto the sun lounger and slipping my shades back before my eyes. Lissa tutted and settled back down, shoving her recovered earphones back into her ears. For the next hour, I watched Dimitri on his surfboard. He was surprisingly good, but that wasn't why I was watching; everytime he went into the ocean, he'd come out sparkling in the sunlight. Water droplets clung to his chest, and even from where I was sat, I could see how they defined his chest even more. He was delicious in every sense of the word.

When he finally came out and returned to his bag that was sat in the golden sand, his long brown hair was plastered to his head, away from his face. The way his soaked shorts clung to every part of his ass and crotch made my cheeks warm. It was like he was the Greek god of the ocean, Poseidon. From the way others on the beach were staring at him, I wasn't the only one to think that. He was a hot and very wet god with a surfboard on his shoulder.

But none of them had a 'date' with him later on like I did.

"This one?"

"Too long."

"This one?"

"I don't like it. Not enough cleavage."

Lissa groaned and rolled her eyes, tossing the black knee-length dress onto the growing pile of discarded dresses upon my bed. I grabbed a hold of the fire red one I'd already tossed. At first I'd thought it too short, but halfway up your thighs wasn't short, was it? No.

"I'll go with this one," I told Lissa. She opened her mouth to say something, but at that exact moment, Dancing Queen by ABBA started playing. I gave her a look that said seriously? She ignored me and answered it. From how wide her smile now was, I was prepared to bet both my boobs it was Christian. And sure enough-

"I'm missing you too! Yes, it's fantastic down here in Miami. Yes. Yes I'm staying out of the sun, don't worry, I'm not going to burn myself. Exactly, again. I wish you were here… Rose is eyeing up Russians and I'm being abandoned tonight while she goes out and plays with him."

Oh fucking hell. Did she have to tell him?

After a few more I love you's, she ended the call with a goofy, giddy smile upon her face. I just stare. "Why did you tell Christian about Dimitri? The whole place is going to know now!"

Lissa's cheeks went scarlet. "I didn't imply it like that."

"Yes you did Liss, yes you did."

"Oh."

"'Oh,' is right," I grumbled, grabbing the pair of high black heels from the foot of my bed to accompany my dress. In this ensemble, I'd look classy. Not some hoebag. A touch of make up and a few curls, perfect. Thank god my legs were waxed.

"So," Lissa inquired. "Was his accent hot?"

"On fire."

Lissa looked thoughtful. "Make him say weird words. It'll be funny."

Suddenly I was wondering how funny 'penis' would sound coming from a guy with a Russian accent.

Lissa wished me luck when I set off, giggling out "go get him, tiger. Have fun." She was planning on heading down to the hotel swimming pool and Jacuzzi for the evening. It sounded like bundles of fun and jealousy took over, but then I remembered I had a Russian god waiting for me in a bar and it vanished instantly.

Heads turned when I climbed out of the cab. In a good way or bad, I didn't wait to find out. I could have walked from the hotel to here, but in these heels? There was more chance of pigs flying.

The bar was all windows, the beaches of Miami framed through them. Dimitri was sat at a two person table in a corner next to the fish tank. There was a pair of little turtles swimming about inside, occasionally pausing to just float above the white gravel.

Dimitri stood up as I reached him, greeting me with "Rose, you look amazing."

He looked amazing too in a black t-shirt that was tight in all the right places. His jeans were black too, sporting a belt that was untarnished silver. Soft brown hair framed his warm chocolate eyes as he leaned down to take my jacket off. As soon as he was done with that, he pulled out the chair for me to sit on, draping my jacket behind it. The perfect gentleman. No guy had ever done that for me before.

Dimitri sat down opposite and smiled, brushing the hair from his eyes. But before he could speak, a waiter arrived, asking "welcome to the Oceanstar. What can I get you both to drink?"

"White wine for me," Dimitri told him, glancing to me with his eyes twinkling. "What would you like?"

"Jack Daniels and Coke," I replied, flashing the waiter a smile. He looked startled, as if no girl had ordered it in the bar before. But all the same, he nodded and left with our orders.

"I'm sorry for how late this is," Dimitri apologized, placing his hands upon the table. "I've been so busy lately. It's unbelievable how much has been on my plate."

I shook my head. "It's fine. Really. Have you enjoyed Miami?"

The waiter returned with our drinks and Dimitri paid for us both without hesitation. He took a sip of his wine before replying to me. "Yes. I have. It's my first time being down here."

A playful smile twitched back onto my feet and I crossed my ankles beneath the seat. "Because you're usually building snowmen in the middle of Russia?"

"You have a thing for Russia, don't you?" he mused, taking another sip. "It's not all ice and endless wastelands. There's so much life if you know where to look. Not just Moscow, or say, Vladivostok. But the smaller towns and villages." He paused. "Do you know any of the fairytales? It's quite a magical place."

I shook my head, entranced. "Tell me?"

Dimitri smiled, leaning back in his seat. "There's one called Vasilisa the Beautiful. Or sometimes, Vasilisa's Doll. When Vasilisa was eight, her mother, on her deathbed, gave her daughter a doll. She told her that if she fed the doll a little to eat and drink, it would always help her."

"My friend is called that," I told him. "Vasilisa. Lissa."

Dimitri smiled. "A very fortunate name."

"Bad things happened to Vasilisa, didn't they?"

"Of course. But like in all fairy tales, it has a happy ending. The czar himself noticed her and eventually married her."

I cocked my head lightly, genuinely curious. "Was it based on truth? Or utterly fictional?"

Dimitri looked thoughtful, hand lifting his wine glass to his lips. "Actually, I'm not sure."

"I wouldn't have taken you for a man with an interest in Russian legends at all," I laughed, raising my drink to my own mouth. Too much coke and not enough J&D. Skimpers. Dimitri smiled. "I grew up knowing them. Like you would have done with Rapunzel or say, Snow White. Although, we did have the Grimm's Fairytales there was well. Original ones, not the watered down versions."

"Original?"

He nodded. "The original Rapunzel gave herself away to Gothel because she was pregnant and had no idea why she was getting larger. Gothel tossed her into the wilderness and she bore a son and daughter that the blinded prince eventually found." He chuckled. "I never thought I'd be sat in Miami talking about fairytales."

"I'm not that bad company am I?"

Dimitri's smile was warm. "You're excellent company, Roza."

What the? "What does that mean?"

A chuckle. "Your name. In Russian."

He ticked the cute, intelligent and sexy boxes all at once.

As the hours wore on, we talked about everything and anything. Dimitri confessed to being a lover of Western books and I couldn't help but laugh. Maybe he was a cowboy in his spare time.

Before long, it was next to midnight and we had plowed through so many drinks I'd lost count. The bar shooed us out and I didn't want to know how much Dimitri had paid. The night was dark and the streetlights lit our way towards Dimitri's apartment that overlooked the Miami beach. My arm was laced through his the entire way. I could hear the crash of the waves through the darkness. It sounded so beautiful and ethereal. Then again, this was a beautiful and ethereal place.

Dimitri's apartment was much bigger than my own hotel room. It was crisp and new smelling with a hint of cologne in the air. There was no woman living here from the layout of the sofa and chiaroscuro pictures upon the wall, that was for sure. A sign outside the apartment block said that these were rented. He certainly had money then.

He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the back of the sofa before gesturing for me to turn around. When I did, he slid off my jacket, fingers brushing the bare skin of my shoulders. A shiver shot down my spine, settling in the pit of my stomach. He even took off my bag and set it down with my coat.

Hands touched my waist. Then they didn't leave.

Lips met the skin just under my right ear and my breath caught in my throat. "You're so beautiful," he muttered into my ear, hands sliding down to my hips. Fingers hooked themselves underneath the hem of my dress and tugged up. Dimitri hoisted me up onto his hips and a gasp escaped me as I was pressed against him. Without warning, he crashed his lips to mine. It was hot, hungry with more than a little passion. I had been dying to taste those lips all night long. When I wrapped my legs around his hips, he tore my dress upwards, walking us somewhere. It wasn't hard to guess where we were heading and I had no quarrel with it.

Dimitri shoved open the bedroom door with his foot, walking us inside with our lips still locked and my arms now around his neck. When he closed it again, I slid down from his waist, breaking the most passionate kiss of my life to yank his shirt up over his head. As soon as it hit the floor, Dimitri set to work on me. After unzipping me down the side, he wound his hands into the bottom of my dress and pulled it up over my head, casting it aside without a moment's hesitation. Suddenly I was stood there in just my heels and rather skimpy underwear. Thank God they were the black ones, not the rose patterned ones Lissa had slipped into my case, saying innocently she hadn't put them in there. I could smell bullshit a mile off.

Those large hands of his picked me up at the waist as if I was a doll and half-pushed, half-placed me onto the bed. I kicked off my heels, hearing the clunk of them hitting the wooden floor.

Dimitri's bed was completely bone white and smooth. It wasn't going to stay that way for much longer. As he unbuckled his jeans and yanked the zip down, my heart really and truly started to pound. No backing out now. There had never been any second thoughts. Not about Dimitri.

When his jeans and shoes were gone, plus his socks, he joined me on the bed, hovering over me with his eyes so dark they looked almost black. Those eyes were hungry, so full of desire they made my body quiver with anticipation. He dipped his head down and let his lips brush my collarbone, eliciting a soft groan from me. Dimitri's lips trailed downwards until they reached the dip of my stomach. It was there where he muttered "you should have kept the heels on. There's something really, really hot about a woman who wears her heels for a man in bed."

Those lips were driving me insane. They wouldn't go any lower, nor would they go higher. Fuck, why wouldn't they go any lower? "Next time," I told him without realizing. We were both leaving tomorrow. There would never be a next time.

He chuckled, lips vibrating against my stomach, but said nothing. After a single kiss to my stomach, he at long last stopped the torture and hovered over me once more, our noses very nearly brushing. I couldn't help but raise a hand to his hair, running my fingers through it. I found it silkier than I had expected. No tangles to speak of. Dimitri leaned down, capturing my mouth to his once more. Any words I could have said were silenced as our tongues met, kissing each other with so much fire it made my body burn already. Before long, I was going to spontaneously combust, I knew it.

Dimitri groaned against my lips as my hand ran its way down his stomach and my fingers brushed the front of his boxers. From what I could feel, he really, really wasn't some teenage boy. I tugged at the elastic waistband until they were down near his knees, then he kicked them off.

He'd torn my underwear in his haste to get me out of my dress. One side was snapped. Dimitri took the hint when I attempted to push them off without success and reached down, snapping the other side too as well as tossing them away. Great, my best ones were now trash. I bet he hadn't even looked at them.

Thoughts about my destroyed underwear instantly left my mind as he pressed his body against my own. Everything about Dimitri was overwhelmingly masculine as his hips grinded against my own, lips moving to the underside of my jaw with his hands holding my waist. If he kept this up, I was going to be done before we'd even begun. How embarrassing would that be?

When he pushed into me, I wasn't expecting it. I wound a hand into his hair with my eyes flying wide and body jerking sharply against his own. Dimitri's lips found my own once more, but I didn't kiss him back. It was startling, how painful it was. Like a small, red hot dagger in my abdomen. I should have told him. Stupid, stupid Rose. I hadn't even had sex before. My lips met his and I moved my hips in time to his, praying my legs weren't wrapped too tight around his hips.

It didn't hurt so much after a little while, but still I still yanked on his hair a little too hard to be entirely plausible. He didn't complain when I dug my nails into his back after a particularly hard thrust, or when I raked them down his shoulders when we came together.

For a long time afterwards, I lay spent atop Dimitri's covers while he slept next to me, dark brown hair tumbling into his closed eyes. He looked peaceful while asleep. Too peaceful and innocent. He didn't look like the type of guy that certainly knew how to make a woman scream and cause her toes to curl in pleasure in a heartbeat.

I got up and creeped through the shadowed apartment until I found my bag where it was still sat with my coat. When I pulled my phone out, I saw it was just gone three in the morning. Had we really been at it for three hours-? No wonder all I wanted was a hot shower to soothe the aches in my stomach.

Lissa had messaged twice.

I hope you're being safe. Then, have fun ;)

Shit. Had he used anything? How did it even… feel if he had? How the hell was I supposed to know? The last thing I needed was getting pregnant from a one-night stand with some hot as fuck Russian guy.

I had to get out of here before he woke up.

When I creeped back into his room and picked up my dress, I found it ripped along the zip. Thanks a bunch Dimitri. I had no dress or underwear. One-night stands were turning out to be more than expensive. I stole a shirt from his wardrobe, along with a pair of black shorts you could tie, otherwise they wouldn't have stayed up. His shirt was way too big for me, but at this time of night, who was going to see it? Especially with my jacket over it all. I even found a hair tie in the wardrobe that I stole to draw my knotted and sweaty hair back into the crappiest buns in the history of buns.

As I tugged my heels on, Dimitri rolled over in bed with a groan, facing me. I froze up, praying he didn't open his eyes. A minute of waiting and the even rise and fall of his chest assured me he was still fast asleep. I tiptoed over the wooden flooring and into the living room, wondering if I should have left a note. But what would I write? "Thanks for taking my virginity, see you around." No. No note.

When I shut the front door behind me, I did feel regret. He was a good guy, not just in it for the sex. Even if the sex in question had blown my mind and probably made the neighbors hate me from how noisy I was. But wasn't the saying 'if she's making no noise, you're doing it wrong?' Dimitri had certainly been doing it right if that was how it went.

The next morning, Lissa was smug at the sight of my stolen attire and hair as I lay sprawled out on my bed. "Someone had fun."

"Painkillers," I groaned, making grabby hands from the depths of my bed. "All I want is painkillers before we leave, and to never have sex with a massive Russian again. I feel destroyed."

"Oh? 'Massive,' was he?" Lissa noted innocently, perching at the edge of my bed. I grabbed the spare pillow next to me and swatted her around the head with it, trying to feel pissed at her for laughing at my pain, but I just couldn't do it. "I never said it in that context." Yeah, he had been big, now that I remember it.

I rolled onto my back, sighing lightly as I stared at the ceiling. The room and I smelt like expensive cologne and man. It was surprisingly nice.

Lissa flopped onto the bed and scooted closer. But as soon as she was close enough to put her arms around me, she groaned and recoiled away. "Rose! The shower is in the other room. Use it."

I smirked at the ceiling and didn't move.

-Review! :D