She looked at me seductively over her shoulder, flashing me a dirty smile accompanied with a mischievous gleam in her light brown eyes.
She strode over to the window and dropped her towel with a light giggle that made my shaft twitch.
She was beautiful. The warm glow of the evening sun setting over the horizon made her tanned skin shimmer brightly. Her figure was the perfect hourglass. Not too slender, with just the right amount of curves to drive a man wild, a full bottom, and as she turned around to face me, I could see that her breasts were just as full and mouthwatering.
But what struck me the most was the way that she held herself. Unlike the previous time I had seen her naked and bare, where she had cowered in shame over her scars, this time she wore them with pride.
It made her look strong and powerful, and damn sexy as hell.
She sashayed over to me, swinging those wide hips of hers, until she stood before me. She pushed me onto the bed, and climbed on top of me. Without warning, she ripped open my shirt, and started placing kisses along my chest, leading all the way to my trousers. She chuckled lightly as I held my breath, and slowly slid them down until I was exposed.
It was my turn to chuckle as she gasped softly at the size of me.
She glanced up as I made the noise and rolled her eyes at me beaming with masculine pride.
I flipped her over and laughed softly as I began kissing her neck, relishing in the sounds of her gentle moans, and feeling of her fingers playing with the ends of my hair.
I breathed in heavily. God she smelled divine, a sort of mixture of her own feminine scent combined with a soft lavender scent.
I wound my hands in that glorious thick mane of hers, and gently nipped at the sensitive skin behind her earlobe, causing her beautiful body to rock up against me. Our breathing became laboured, as my lips slowly made their way back to hers along her jawline, and hovered above her own, in a similar way my shaft was pressed up against the soft lips of her core, waiting for the contact we both so desperately craved.
Except it never came.
She suddenly disappeared.
I flipped over the sheets and duvet, tossing and turning the never ending silk to try and find her, becoming more and more panicked with each second that had past since I lost her.
"Roza!" I shouted, begged for her to hear me.
"Please! I'm sorry! I realise now! It's you I choose. It's you I want. It's you I love. Come back to me, please!' I pleaded, tears threatening to fall as it sunk in that she had gone.
I collapsed on the bed and pulled the covers over me, wishing that I could hide away from the world, when a letter wafted through the air as I lifted the sheets. It floated gently down and landed in my hands.
It was addressed to me. And I instantly recognised the messy scrawl. I opened the envelope and found the following words:
I am not your Roza anymore…
I woke up with a start, knocking over my ink pot in the process, and spilling it over the floor and my waistcoat.
Silently cursing God, if such a being did exist, I picked up the ink pot without bothering to clear it up. The maids could do that.
I dabbed my now ruined waistcoat in vain, tossing the handkerchief behind me before scrubbing my face to rid myself of the remains of sleep.
54 days.
That's how long it had been since she left. And with each passing day, I found a piece of me slowly died.
It was as if she brought life to me, to my mundane, tedious life.
It is strange, is it not? How one can be so oblivious to the complete and utter difference a person makes to you life, until they are gone.
And now she is gone, and I felt myself withdraw into my previous self once more.
I had closed myself off from people, from my family, acquaintances, and Tasha.
I sighed. I had been sat here pondering this for quite some time, before I fell asleep at the desk. I picked up my quill, and hesitantly wavered it over the paper, unsure on how to proceed.
The papers in front of me almost seemed to beg for me to answer. It was a proposition by Lord Ozera, Tasha's father, to invest in a business of his. It was one of the reasons this marriage had been forced together unnaturally. Our marriage meant good business relations and propositions, and Lord Ozera had been pushing me to give him an answer before the date of the wedding. I had no doubt that this would influence the nature of the marriage. It was too late, by anyone's standards, to back out now, but if I declined his proposition, this marriage would be all the more difficult to bear with.
Mother insisted that I sign my share in it. But if only she knew what it truly proposed.
Lord Ozera was interested in one thing: my money. I, or rather the Belikov family was wealthier than his, by a good 5,000 or so.
And naturally, this would not do for him, second best. So he had taken the initiative to join in on the booming financial situation in the county due to the every increasing industrialisation, and embark on an industrious venture of his own. He was a shrewd man, and I had every confidence that this business of his would achieve great monetary success.
But I could not go through with it.
He wanted to set-up a mill of some sort, but with that came child labour.
I was not a sentimental man, but one could not help but reason that this was too far. Perhaps before Roza, I would have signed, but life, and people in it, seemed to matter so much more to me now. Maybe that was a sign of my ever increasing weakness. Father would not have hesitated like I.
I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead, thinking about the woman I was forced to be with in place of her.
Tasha. On paper, this marriage made perfect sense, just as the business deal did. Handsome, titled and wealthy… we were ideal.
But my heart was not in it.
I had tried, despite my inadequate feelings towards her, to give her some of the admiration she deserves.
Feigning emotions was relatively simple beforehand, but once you experienced the real thing, the pretence seemed all the more difficult.
The charade was now quickly becoming more than just tiresome, it felt wrong.
Mother had insisted that we talked after noticing I wasn't my usual self, or rather, that since Rose's departure, I had gone back to my usual self. But alas, if I were to talk about it, it would make the emotion all the more raw and prominent. And emotions are a sign of weakness.
So no, I kept my head down and continued with the wedding plans, and discussed my marriage to be much as one would discuss the weather; with boredom and a mere futile way to pass the time.
Babushka, however, was a different story altogether. She knew, in that uncanny, way of hers, that something was not quite right.
I swear, had we been centuries earlier, she'd have been burnt at the stake for being accused of witchcraft. And as ludicrous as the notion of being a witch seemed nowadays, if you had met babushka, it was easy to see how it could be true.
She kept looking at me in that knowing way of hers, and shaking her head in disapproval. But in what, I had no idea. This was the right thing for the both of us, wasn't it?
And even if it wasn't. It was too late. I had lost her.
I remembered that strong, defiant look in her eyes as she said those fatal words...
"I'm not your Roza anymore." I felt a chill down my spine and shivered. From the moment she said those words, I knew I had lost her.
I kept trying to convince myself it was for the best, but with each fond memory of her, it became harder to ingrain in my mind.
But I had to keep reminding myself what Ivan had told me. She didn't love me anymore.
*Flashback*
I needed to speak with her. I needed to make my feelings clear. I charged down the hallway, uncharacteristically frantic and manic for me. In fact, I could not remember ever feeling this lost in my life. I always had a tight control over my emotions and actions- until I met Rose that was.
And now I was about to lose her. But that simply was not a possibility.
After she had thrown me out of her, well… my chambers, it made me really think about us. And I mean really think.
Sure, I knew I had deep feelings towards her, but it had always been a conscious effort on my part to bury them deep enough in the hope that they didn't rear its ugly head.
But when I felt like I had lost her for good, the emotion I had been bottling up seemed to explode. It was as if every cell in my body protested to her rejection of me, and in all my time on this earth, I had never felt such a strong feeling of being the greatest idiot to grace it.
The thought of subjecting myself to a life of misery with Tasha, when the one filled with excitement, lust and possibilities with Rose was right here In front of me, made the decision easy.
I was going to chase my Roza, whilst I still had a chance. If she rejected me now, after I had a chance to say my part, then at least I would not spend the rest of my life wondering 'what if'.
And so, here I was, rushing around to find her before I lost the courage to do so.
Unfortunately, my path took me along the "Belikov hall". And with every step I took, it was as if I could feel my father's judgement radiating from his painting, as his eyes seemingly followed me.
I tried to shake off the wariness that was beginning to build up, and made sure to focus on Roza, not my Father's judgement from the grave.
I had reached the end of the hallway when I ran into Ivan.
"Ooomph. What are you made out off? I swear they could replace our ten horses for you!" He chuckled.
But I was in too much of a rush to even acknowledge him, and mumbled some feeble form of apology, and continued on my search. Ivan quickly caught up to me, however, and soon his footsteps fell in sync with my own.
"Woah, slow down there! I knew I said you could replace my ten horses, but that does not mean you have to prove yourself anymore!" He joked, and tried to stand in front of me.
I was quickly losing my patience with him, and the scathing look I gave him made him appreciate that I was not in the mood today.
"Where are you off to in such a rush anyway?" He questioned.
I waved my arm in a dismissive motion, wishing it was as easy as batting an irksome fly away.
"I need to speak to someone. It is of the utmost importance, so I suggest you bid me farewell this instance, lest you get in my way more than you have already done." I snapped harshly. It would have no doubt earnt me a clipped ear from mother had she been within earshot.
His eyes suddenly brightened with realisation
"You can't see her!" He declared.
"How did you know I meant Ro-
Wait! What?! Why ever not?!" I growled back at him, primal jealousy consuming me.
He rolled his eyes at me, "You and your masculine pride can calm down! It's not like tha-" he was cut off instantly by my hand around his throat as I pinned him up against the wall.
"She is NOT yours. She is mine." I snarled at him.
His eyes widened, "For God's sakes. Stop leaping to conclusions and listen man! I have no interest in Rose that way! Well… I do, what man wouldn't, but-" he spluttered as his last comment earned him a squeeze of my hand around his neck.
"No… wait…. Dimitri…" he tried to choke out, and as his eyes bulged and his face went purple, I knew immediately I had gone too far. I let go of him and took a step back, not quite believing what I had done.
He coughed and sputtered, recovering himself, before straightening out his suit jacket and running a hand through his hair.
"Good God man! This is what I mean!" He gestured between us maniacally, and I shot him a questioning look.
"You are in far too deep! You and Rose… I can tell you're in love with her, as your fit of jealousy just showed!" He shouted at me, voice still hoarse from my tight hold.
Out of habit, I was about to protest, but realised it was useless. If I wished to convince Roza of my feelings towards her, I would have to tell the rest of the world too soon enough.
"What of it? You have met her. How can I not?" I tried to defend myself.
"It's no good for the two of you. You know that. Your title will be compromised, the respect your family has built over the years. And her dignity will be ruined."
"I don't care. I don't care about any of that. Not anymore. I… I love her. I don't expect you to understand. But I have tried to fight it for so long now, and it is of no use. I can no longer hide it."
He looked momentarily astonished by my little speech, and I used the opportunity to push past him to find her.
Needless to say, he continued following me, calling me behind and telling me to stop.
I had reached the corridor that held her room, and I took deep breath before approaching her door. This was it. In the next five minutes I would know if I had truly lost the love of my life due to my own idiocy and stubbornness.
I was just about to knock on, when I felt an hand yank me backwards and push me against the wall.
"I wanted to spare you, Dimitri. Listen… I've offered her a place at my residence i-" Ivan warned.
I was taken aback, the feeling of betrayal cutting deep into my being.
"You did what?!"
He sighed deeply.
"It's not what you think! I have offered her a position as my maid. You need to be separated."
"That is not your decision to make. If she wished to proceed and move in with you after I have spoken to her, then fair enough, but until then, she is my maid, and my love, so I shall decide what happens." I growled back, and I could feel my temper quickly rising again.
He looked away for a second, almost looking guilty. Almost.
Without looking me in the eye, he said, "It is her decision. She doesn't feel the same way about you, not anymore."
My whole world seemed to come crashing down in those few seconds, and my mouth went completely dry.
"You're lying." Was all I managed to choke out.
He shook his head slightly, and I tried to search his face for any insincerity on his part, except there was none.
"She told me herself. So I offered her a position at my residence. She has yet to accept and has until the morning. But if you truly love her, Dimitri, as you say you do, then you will let her go. You say that you don't care now, that you will give up everything for her, but I know you, and I know you carry the weight of your Father's pride on your shoulders. And you do not want to dishonour your family. You will never follow through with it. We both know that."
Perhaps his words meant sense, but moments ago I had been so sure that this is what I wanted, and so the jealous part of me lashed out again.
"So what? You're going to find her and talk to her. Then what? The two of you get to skip off into the sunset merrily?"
"You and I know that will never happen, even if I did feel the same way as you do about her, I could never disrespect you like that. We have been friends long enough that I hope you can trust me on this.
I am not doing this to be cruel, Dimitri. It is for the best. Be the honourable man, and let her go. Let her move on, so that you can both live the lives you were born to lead. "
I closed my eyes, perhaps to allow the words to soak in more. Did the selfish part of me want to keep her for myself? Undubiously. But I knew I could not. Perhaps if she felt the same way. But knowing she didn't, I knew I could never be so cruel and force a life on her that she did not want.
And it is with that thought, the thought that she deserved more, that I turned around and walked away.
Hoping that the way my heart hurt was only temporary, and that it would make me stronger as it healed. It was a painful reminder that my father was right. To feel was to be weak.
*End of flashback*
I put down my ink pen on the desk, and leaned back with my eyes closed. My jaw tensed and flexed.
Thinking about Rose… I couldn't do it.
She may have once had to work in a mill, or atleast knew of someone that had. Even if she hadn't done, she was far too good of a person to even consider it.
Sighing heavily, I picked up the papers and tossed them into the fireplace, watching with some degree of satisfaction as they slowly burnt to a crisp.
As the last of the paper died into a dancing ember, I strode out of the room and into the corridor, finding my grandmother staring at me, and glancing rather obviously at my stained clothing.
As my grandmother walked past me, she shook her head and shot me a scathing look that could burn holes through walls.
She muttered sharply to herself, "такой глупый мальчик"
And I had the feeling that she wasn't referring to the spilt ink.
Author's note
такой глупый мальчик= such a foolish boy.
How heartbreaking is it that Dimitri was about to confess his love for her, before Ivan intervened? It was with the best intentions, Ivan thought he was sparing them both a lot of heartache, but nevertheless, he unwittingly ended up causing more in the long run with his lie that Rose didn't love him anymore.
A DPOV was in high demand judging from reviews, and I can only hope it didn't disappoint too much. He isn't the easiest of characters to write for.
And yes… he has undergone quite the character change, but I think it was crucial that we see his character develop in a way.
Thank you all so much for the reviewed 29! Just wow. I have not had time to thank everyone, but I will definitely message everyone who left a review.
Thank you to everyone who has read and is still following this story too! Your support means everything!
I'm sorry it's been a while. My depression has been awful this past week.
It's a constant battle, and my thoughts and prayers go out to anyone out there fighting a mental illness. May God bless that you find the strength to heal.
And to Sky… thank you so much. I've always loved baking, and it's been the one thing that I've found can take my mind off everything and give me a break from the depression. Which is weird because you'd have thought it would make it worse with the anorexia haha. Ah well. Pretty messed up I guess :) But thank you. Your words are so encouraging, especially since I'm crapping myself for this course hahaha.
Sorry for the long Author's note.
Thank you again for reading and reviewing, and I can't wait to write the next few chapters. Super excited for what's to come!
Love Emma xxx