Accidentally in Love
~Chapter 3~
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It was eerie how similar the way this incident played out was to the first one. There weren't any heartfelt apologies this time, but there were a few tension-wracked days before the day in Adrian's room was mostly forgotten.
Only "mostly", not "entirely", in Christian's case. He found himself over-analyzing every single interaction with Adrian, continuously denying that he had feelings for the other boy, and ignoring all the signs that pointed to the fact that he was actually falling for him. Needless to say, it wasn't easy being Christian.
If he knew what was coming next, perhaps he would have appreciated his current situation a little more.
Halfway through one of his classes, Christian was called to Headmistress Kirova's office. Figuring that he was being blamed and/or busted for something, he hadn't been too worried. When he walked in and saw the peculiar expression on Kirova's face, however, he was worried.
"Mr. Ozera, please have a seat," Kirova said.
Christian pulled out a chair. "What's this all about?" he asked.
Kirova laced her fingers together and pressed her lips together in a thin line, giving the appearance of someone who was trying to say something tactfully but was unsure of how to go about it.
"Christian…" she began, surprising him with the use of his first name. "You are aware, of course, that your aunt, Tasha Ozera, was allowed to accompany a strigoi-hunting party because of her fire abilities, correct?"
Dread settled into Christian's heart, but he simply replied, "Yes."
"Alright. Well, unfortunately, there were more strigoi than they expected. The guardians were severely outnumbered. Many of them were killed in the fight, and…Tasha Ozera was one of the casualties."
Christian froze.
"I'm sorry, Christian, but there's more. I feel obligated to tell you the rest, unless you would prefer if I did not. Would you allow me to continue?"
Now Christian was trembling. He bit his lip hard, refusing to show emotion in front of Kirova. Just barely, he managed to nod. If Tasha was dead, he owed it to her to listen to the full story.
"Very well, then," Kirova said. "As I said, there were more strigoi than were anticipated. A whole group of them ambushed the guardians and the four moroi as they approached. Two of the moroi and a handful of guardians were instantly killed, but they still fought back bravely. Tasha was still alive at that point.
"Soon, it was apparently that they had to retreat. They pulled out, but a Strigoi leaped at Tasha the instant she turned her back. Right before the guardians' eyes, she was turned into a strigoi."
Another wave of horror swept over Christian. It was his parents all over again, but worse. Now he was old enough to fully understand what had happened. He gripped the seat until his knuckles turned white, willing it not to be true.
Kirova continued, "The guardians had no other option but to kill her before she could cause any harm. She may be dead, but at least she isn't a monster."
Christian took two deep breaths, still trying to appear calm. His voice mostly level, he asked, "Can I cut my classes for the rest of the day?"
"If you feel so inclined, Mr. Ozera, but–"
He was already halfway out the door.
The long walk back to his dorm was pure torture. Unshed tears threatened to fall and betray his agony, but that wasn't even the worst of it.
It was transition time between classes, and there were students everywhere. Some of them gave him not a second glance, but most of them had heard the news of Tasha's death, which had spread like wildfire. They stared at Christian with judgment, disgust, and occasionally fear. The normal buzz of conversation had faded to whispers.
"Hey, isn't that Ozera? He's a freak."
"His whole family's gonna' turn strigoi."
"He'll be next. It's only a matter of time."
"We should get rid of him now so we don't have to deal with him later, don't you think?"
"He's better of dead anyway."
The whispers echoed in Christian's mind. So, this would be his life now? Everyone expecting him to suddenly rip their throats? Hating him a hundred times more than they already did? Christian felt old wounds re-opening, so much that it seemed like his veins had started to pump misery instead of blood.
After what felt like an eternity, he made it back to his room. Slamming the door behind him, he sat down on his unmade bed and was still for a second or two.
Then, for the first time in a long time, Christian began to cry.
It wasn't long before he heard someone knocking on his door.
"Christian, it's me," came Adrian's voice. "Rose told me you'd be here."
Christian stood up on shaky legs and stumbled to the door. He swung it open to reveal Adrian's curious face. The concern promptly changed to shock when he looked at the boy in front of him. Christian could only imagine what he saw– red-ringed eyes, a face sticky with tears, a broken boy standing in the doorway.
"Christian…what's wrong?"
All traces of the usual humor were absent from Adrian's voice. Only whole-hearted concern for his best friend remained. Christian shook his head and tried to push Adrian back out the door, hoping that the other boy would understand. If he tried to talk, he would only break down again.
Adrian stepped past his hands and pulled Christian over so that they could both sit side-by-side on the edge of the bed.
For the initial few moments, Christian's expression remained stony. Then his resolve shattered. He started to cry again, dropping his head in his hands. Shame filled him when the reality of the situation hit him– he was blubbering like a girl in front of Adrian.
He didn't, however, expect what happened next. Instead of leaving, Adrian hesitantly wrapped an arm around Christian's shaking form. On impulse, Christian leaned into the gesture.
Somehow, that turned into him sobbing into Adrian's chest, angry tears flowing relentlessly from his eyes. The sobs wracked his whole body, but Adrian just held him tighter and gently traced patterns into his back. Christian tried to draw strength from the shelter of Adrian's embrace.
Christian's sobs eventually faded to soft sniffles and slight tremors. Still, neither one of them moved until Christian did pulled away so that he could talk without the sound being muffled by Adrian's shirt.
"I'm sorry–" he began.
"Stop it," Adrian cut in, "Don't feel bad about this at all."
Christian shrugged the comment off and said, "No, I'm sorry for being such a girl." He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, but the sticky moisture of tears still remained.
Adrian was already starting to object before Christian was even finished talking. "You've got nothing to be sorry for, Christian. Now, tell me what's happened for you to be crying like this," he said.
"You haven't heard?" Christian asked bitterly. "My aunt was turned into a Strigoi and then killed, so now everyone thinks I'm going to lose it and become a serial killer any day now."
"Oh my God…that's terrible," Adrian said, the reason for Christian's breakdown becoming clear to him.
Christian's voice was hoarse as he said, "Tell me something I don't know."
Now Adrian was mad, not at Christian, but at everyone giving him a hard time about turning strigoi. "What the hell is their problem?" he asked angrily. "They have no right to be giving you crap."
A single corner of Christian's mouth lifted in a resemblance of a smile. He was grateful for Adrian's defense of him, even if it wouldn't make a difference.
"I dealt with it before, I guess," Christian said. "There's no need for you to get pulled into my mess, too. I can handle it."
"If you say so."
The sound of the bell broke into their conversation, bringing it to an abrupt end.
"I guess I'll leave now," Adrian said, feeling like Christian could use some time alone. "But…you can come and get me if you need anything, okay?" He walked over to the doorway as he spoke.
This time, Christian gave him a genuine smile.
"Thanks, Adrian."
Adrian gave him a quick grin in return before leaving, pulling the door closed behind him.
Christian fell back into the sheets, closing his eyes. Then, slowly, he re-opened them, a resigned expression on his face. Finally, he had no choice but to accept the blatantly obvious fact that he had been denying all along.
He was falling for Adrian Ivashkov.
