While Dimitri didn't give me a 'no,' he didn't give me a 'yes' either, and walked around brooding throughout the morning- even frowning at the pancakes I'd lovingly made him. By midday, I'd had enough of his cloud of self-inflicted depression- he was starting to resemble Christian.
"Dimitri," I whispered, pausing Clash of the Titans. His eyes flickered, but they had yet to meet my own. He looked everywhere but at me. It was clear he was tormenting himself over my question- over my virginity- but I didn't retract it. He'd still beat himself up over it even if I did tell him to forget about it; it was who Dimitri was. He was always in a battle with himself- the wants of the people he loved vs. his own.
"Dimitri, look at me."
He managed a fleeting glance at our intertwined hands, but promptly returned his gaze to the floor. I sighed, biting back a stab of rejection, and shuffled closer to him.
He didn't acknowledge my presence.
I grasped his chin and turned his face to mine, but he quickly jerked away. Hurt, I dropped my hand, exhaling slowly.
"You're being mean," I whispered.
"I'm sorry," he said. It was more than his newly designated one worded replies, and it was a sincere apology, but it didn't ease my inner distress. Dimitri had never not touched me before, and he'd never rejected my touch. It wasn't nice, knowing that a stupid question had him doing so.
I wanted a do-over of the morning, but I didn't. As much as it was putting a strain on our friendship now, I wanted him to ultimately be the one to do the deed. There was no one I loved more- it made sense. At least to me, it did.
"You're a zombie, Dimitri."
He glanced down at my chest, and then slowly, slowly raised his eyes to meet my lips.
"It's a big favour, Roza. So-", his voice cracked, "huge. I can't think. I can't say what's in my head."
"You can," I urged, squeezing his fingers in my own. "I said what was in my head, please say what's in yours."
"Mama would kill me," he said, with a smirk. It wasn't a smile, but it wasn't a grimace, so I'd take it.
He licked his lips and placed his hand on my thigh. "I want to tell you yes," he murmured slowly, his eyes on my mouth, sliding his palm up, and up. "I want to tell you I'll do it."
It was all the encouragement I needed.
I hooked my leg over his lap, and slid onto his thighs. I'd straddled him in countless different occasions, yet this one moment was different. Perhaps it was because of my expectations, my willingness to take this beyond the normal boundaries of our friendship, or perhaps it was because of his gaze, so hungry on my mouth and the hitch in his breathing. Whatever it was, I felt good pressed against him, shaking with hormones screaming at me to press my lips against his.
My hand flit to his cheek, and I quickly removed it, scared the gesture was too tender for the situation. I repositioned them in his hair and he repositioned himself beneath me, rocking his hips against my own. I bit back a groan and ducked my head to his, ignoring the budding anticipation at the harness to his jeans. I wouldn't sleep with him until he had roses and champagne, but there was nothing wrong with getting started.
He ran his hands up and down my thighs, only pausing when his mouth met mine. It was a quick kiss, and I was sloppy in my movements, too busy analysing what different part of body went where. He must have caught my hesitance- taking my hand and pressing it to his crotch the second his lips left my own. The gesture wasn't romantic in the least- more erotic as he held his palm over my own, keeping me there.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to fuck you, Roza."
The admission tinted the tips of my ears red, and in one fluid movement I was back against his chest, my mouth seeking his in a new, unanalysed and frenzied kiss- one that even Adrian hadn't yet brought out of me. This kiss was unmistakably Dimitri's, formulated solely for the best friend that stated his secret lust, produced solely for the man that turned me on by doing so.
He groaned into my mouth and bucked his hips against mine, sending a wave of euphoria crashing through me. He felt so good everywhere, underneath me, and I wanted to wrap myself in his body; big and strong, rippling beneath my touch.
Then, as he pulled his mouth from mine and the high started to wane, and our saliva dried on my lips, he grimaced again.
"I wanted to tell you yes," he panted, and my ears shattered. "I want to- I might, but I have to think, without you clouding my opinion."
"After that?" I screeched, shoving my mind-numbing embarrassment into a shell of stoic-faced anger. "You can't say that after- after that! Dimitri, you just said that you've wanted to-"
"That's why you can't be here!" Dimitri yelled back, on the defensive. "You just jump on me and expect me to redeem an ounce of control- it's what I mean about you clouding my judgement!"
I dropped my hand from his shoulders, and shoved against his chest. I had to blink back tears of frustration; I was mortified. And the horror only grew as my eyes watered more- if Dimitri saw tears, it'd only cloud his damned judgement more.
"Where are you going?" He said quietly; resigned, as I slid off his lap. I escaped to his bedroom with only a shake of my head, and thankfully, he didn't chase after me. I needed to go home otherwise I would start sobbing, and God knew I needed to think about all of this too.
He was standing when I returned, his eyes on my keys and his hand on the door. He held it open, as if he knew where I was running to, or rather, what I was running from. Him.
"Call me when you get home," he murmured, pulling me in for a quick hug on my way past. He didn't mention the elephant in the room, which I was grateful for. I didn't want to hear about it, and I'm not sure he did either. "I want to know you're safe. The roads are slippery."
I nodded against his chest, leaning into him for the tiniest moment. It was different, hugging Dimitri. I wanted to stay in his embrace, warm and secure, and confide in him all my sorrows- but my sorrows were him, and as much as I wanted him to know how he'd hurt me, embarrassed me, I couldn't bring myself to speak a word of it. I just pulled out of his arms, mumbled a goodbye and started down the steps, his socks soaking through with snow as my cheeks soaked through with tears.
Because he still wouldn't look at me- wouldn't meet my eyes. And it was devastating to think that maybe, after seven years, this was the beginning of the end of us.
A slightly heavier chapter, I think.
So review, and tell me what you think!
