Helllloo! This one-shot is dedicated to my Pa, whose birthday was yesterday! It's not going to solve your problems if you're in a Romitri feels mood, but as the second main couple, I figured these two deserved some time in the spot light. Happy reading!

Summary Because Christian and Lissa's relationship isn't all kittens and rainbows.

POV Lissa

36

I see him clench his fists tightly from where they rested on his thighs. He had a pained look twisting his face, his regular scowl seeming to stand out twice as much due to his clenched jaw, hunched posture and thinly pressed lips.

I avert my gaze from him. It hurt to look at him. Glancing down at my bandaged hands, I realised that maybe it was just the severe burns covering my wrists. They throbbed in time with my aching heart.

Christian's head jerks up and he meets my gaze from across the room. He stands up abruptly from the stiff hospital chair he'd been sitting in ever since we'd rushed into the hospital an hour earlier. I gnaw at my lip but keep our gazes locked. He didn't mean to, my 'nice' side urged vehemently.

Christian takes three long strides before he reaches my side. "Lissa…" he breathes out, concern laced into his voice and etched into his face.

I hold my hands up, forcing a weak grin. "I'm okay. The Doc just says I need to put burn salve on it for a while, and clean bandages."

Christian's face loses some of its worried texture. If I know it wouldn't hurt me, I think I would probably stroke his cheek, or rub the crease between his eyebrows to help him banish his concern. It was almost stifling.

My boyfriend takes a few cautious steps back before threading his pale hands into his hair. Briefly, the smell of burning hair invades my nostrils and I blink my eyes tightly in an effort to vanish the betraying thoughts suddenly entering my mind.

"What's wrong?" I force out through a sickening smile.

Christian looks to the side, his pretty ice blue eyes burning- I wince at the thought- a hole into the polished linoleum floor. "I," he clears his throat, letting his eyes flicker to mine momentarily before his gaze drops back down to the floor. It gives me a brief moment to see the guilt in those deceptively calm eyes, "I hurt you."

I take those few steps forward, separating the distance between us by lying my head on his chest. I cautiously raise my arms and lightly rest them on his back. Christian takes his cue and wraps his arms around me, resting his cheek on my head and breathing in. I can only imagine that he smells burning corpses and smoke.

"It wasn't your fault," I whisper, closing my eyes. Immediately I regret doing so, my mind conjuring the happenings of merely an hour ago, in that sick Love Tunnel at the fair. I keep them closed, forcing myself to re-watch the gruesome scene that flits behind my eyes in flashbacks.

I can remember us so eagerly sneaking out, in our inebriated states, past my guardians. Together, hand in hand we'd giggled and jostled each other in the direction of the pier, where the locals were holding a large fair, complete with a massive Ferris wheel and dark, menacing corners where Strigoi hoped to prey upon those foolish enough to come closer.

Thinking we were smarter than that, to go to such obvious breeding grounds, the two of us had instead decided to go to the illustrious Love Tunnel, where we had minimum vision, even factoring in our enhanced Moroi eye sight. This Love Tunnel had shallow waters, just barely enough to keep a boat afloat.

It wasn't long before we heard the menacing sounds of approaching feet. The noise, and us suddenly registering the ominous atmosphere, had sobered us fairly quick. Christian had immediately lit his hands on fire, eerily illuminating the cramped tunnel and the unnaturally pale faces of three Strigoi.

I cuddle in closer to Christian's chest. Just over an hour ago we'd been hammered past the point of no return. It was hard to think we'd been so drunk not so long ago, while now the thought of even a drop of liquor being in either of our systems seemed laughable. I hadn't been so sombre or serious since I was first hailed queen.

"I'm so sorry," Christian almost wept, his voice husky and rough in a way that in different circumstances may have set my lady bits on fire. I wince at the thought, willing my mind to shut up with the fire analogies.

"It's ok, it wasn't your fault," I whispered soothingly, my words muffled by his simple black T-shirt. His grip tightens, and I know I'm not the only one reliving the moment when all three Strigoi had simultaneously leapt at us and how Christian had reflexively thrust his hands out and set them alight.

I could feel the heat now. It had caused me to stumble over the side of the rickety little boat and land in the shallow waters. The Strigoi were writhing in pain, but we both knew it wasn't enough to keep them down for long. Rather than running, we knew the futility of that move, Christian had focused his magic on terminating the threats in front of us.

However, one thing neither of us had noticed til it was too late was the fact that the burning, the scorching hair and flesh and agonised screams, was only coming from two undead. We found the third one when he grabbed me by my neck from behind. The phantom feeling of fingers tightening around my neck still seemed to suffocate me now.

The Strigoi had done some weird mixture of a cackle and a hiss of pain. Half of his arm was burnt off and the smell invaded my nostrils so acutely I had to resist the urge to vomit. His voice was nasally as he attempted to use me as a bargaining tool of some sorts.

My hands had clutched desperately at the pale fingers from his one hand encircling my throat. We faced my boyfriend side on and right before the Strigoi was going to snuff my life out for real, Christian had fired. Unfortunately, in the process, my hands that had been clawing at the monster's tight grip, had been caught in the crossfire.

I made it out. The Strigoi didn't.

Embarrassingly, that's when my tears started. I burst into sobs, soaking Christian's shirt and publicly humiliating myself in front of the minimal staff that crawled through the unpopulated trauma ward. Christian's grip tightened around me and I vaguely register the butterfly light kisses he places delicately around my face, holding each for a minimum of three seconds. One on the crown of my head. One on each cheek. One on my forehead, one on my nose. By the time he gets to my lips, I've calmed down somewhat.

I let out a little gurgle of a laugh, meeting Christian's pretty blue eyes. I sniff once before saying, "My guardians are going to kill us when we get back to the hotel."

Christian smirks slightly, placing his forehead on my own. "I'm not worried about them. I'm worried about when Rose finds out."

"We should probably plan a safe house for when we get back to Court then right?" I joke. I reach up and our lips meet in a gentle, loving caress.

"I love you Lissa." Christian whispers, his grip tightening around me like a cage. I breathe out slowly, snuggling into his warmth, so different to that of his fire. So much, tamer, safer.

Then again, I like dangerous and wild.