I really suck at summaries... this one is a continuation of one of my drabbles and I've really enjoyed writing it :D
Not sure how long this story will be, and knowing me, it will be at least 20 chapters.
There is going to be a lot of smut, not going to lie, I'll give a heads up at the beginning of the chapter if that's something you wanted to avoid.

As always, I hope you enjoy and I really look forward to seeing what you think :D

My eyes burned. No matter how much I rubbed them, they stung, watering more each time the wind blew.

A burned pile of debris—that's all that was left of my home.

The smoke still rose from the burnt wood. Everything was gone. Overnight I managed to lose everything I had.

"There were no survivors."

The words whispered between the firefighters when I first arrived broke me; I was more of a shell as I stood behind the yellow tape staring out over the remains of my life—of my family.

You can't stay here.

I took a step back. The crowd around me moved to take my spot, all eager to look at the spectacle that was my home. None of them paid me any attention. With my hood pulled up over my head, I doubt they even recognised me.

For all they knew, I was meant to be in that house.

You have to leave.

I spun on my heel and ran. I couldn't stay here anymore.

So, I ran as far as I could.

xXx

"Rose," Riley cooed, leaning over the counter at me, "Mr Tall and Sexy has arrived and is sitting in your section."

I rolled my eyes but concealed my groan of annoyance. I had been hoping that maybe he wouldn't come in tonight. For the past two weeks, every night without fail, he was here, taking a seat in my section. Only ever ordering coffee as he sat there with an old-looking book. He had everyone else fooled into being jealous of me because of his good looks, piercing brown eyes, and muscles that I could totally drag my hands down just to feel the strength behind them.

But there was something about him that was off.

Every time I was near him, I would get a chill. I've been calling it my spidey senses, and they were saying there's something different about this guy. Something dangerous.

So I was wary, and unlike the other women I worked with, I would not stand there and flirt with him. I didn't even bother forcing a fake smile for him anymore; instead, I just marched to his table with a bored look, "What do you want?"

Mr Tall and Sexy glanced at me, and with his height, we were basically eye level now. He looked down at the menu as if contemplating ordering something different tonight. "I'll start with a coffee," He replied with an easy smile that managed to make my knee feel weak each time.

I also didn't like that he affected me so much. "You'll have to order food if you're going to stay here," I lied. I just didn't want to put up with him tonight.

He smirked, knowing it was a lie, "Is that so?"

I nodded, hoping my manager didn't overhear, "Yep, new policy."

"Okay then. What do you recommend?"

I never tried to hold a conversation with him, mainly because I tried to avoid him, but I now I almost wished I did because his deep voice with the slight accent was like music to my ears.

I considered my options; I could recommend the worst food we had or actually be nice. I conceded to being nice for once, "The French Toast is good."

"I'll have that. Thank you, Roza," He held out the menu and smiled, making me want to swoon like a schoolgirl. It pissed me off.

I snatched his menu from his hand, telling him pointedly, "It's Rose."

With that, I marched away, scowling. As soon as I was back at the counter, Riley was wiggling her eyebrows at me, "He was totally checking you out as you walked away."

I discreetly flipped her off, putting in his order and doing up his coffee. Of all the places to sit and drink coffee, I didn't understand why he would choose this place? We sure didn't have the good stuff.

I placed the cup on the counter, sliding it towards Riley. "Here, you can take it to him, and he can check you out."

She shook her head with an evil gleam in her eyes. "Nope, this is all yours."

I grumbled to myself as I carried the coffee to his table. "Can I get you anything else?"

"No thanks."

I pulled my hand back as he reached for the coffee, my instincts going haywire. I just couldn't tell if I should be afraid of him or not.

"Slow night?"

I looked back at him, realising I was just standing beside his table. I glanced around the diner; there were only two other tables, both Riley's. I shrugged in response, "I've had better." I chewed on my lip, "So why do you come here? Surely, there are better places to sit around for hours."

He leaned back in his booth, throwing an arm over the back as he sipped his drink, replying with a smirk, "I like the coffee."

I shot him a dubious look, "Really?"

"Really."

I shook my head. Why I thought I would get a real answer, I don't know. "Whatever. Your food will be out shortly." I was being rude, but I didn't care. I wasn't exactly known here for my charming personality.

If anything, Stan kept me around here because I could handle the drunk customers that come in. I wasn't afraid to get in their faces and throw them out into the street when they crossed the line.

By the time his food was ready, I had talked myself into trying to get some real answers from him. I made my way to his table, a genuine smile aimed at him, "Here you go."

I was going to put on all the charm I had to get this guy to talk. I placed his food in front of him and reached across the table to grab the syrup, placing it within reach. The uniform they had us wear didn't provide a lot of coverage at the top, so leaning over like this gave him a perfect view.

I don't like to do it often, but I have been able to use my breasts to get what I wanted. A little bit of cleavage and a sweet smile goes a long way.

"Would you like some more coffee?" I asked in a sweet voice, shaking the jug I was carrying with me. I watched his face, looking for any hint that I had him enticed, but his expression was amused.

"I'm fine. Thanks."

I groaned internally. Being brave, I slid into the booth opposite him, earning a raised eyebrow. "Like you said, it's a slow night. You don't mind the company do you?"

The corner of his lips twitched in a smile, "No, I don't mind." Unaffected by my presence, he started eating his food, using a knife and fork to cut it into smaller pieces. A soft sound of appreciation slipped through his lips after his first bite.

I should not enjoy watching this man eat as much as I did. I shifted in my seat, leaning back, "Are you new to the area?" I asked, unsure how to start the conversation.

"Not really."

"Did you find this place by accident?" I tapped my nails on the table; my face started to hurt from the smile I wore.

His eyes gleamed at me, "A friend recommended it."

I narrowed my eyes, "A friend?"

"What is it that you would like to know, Rose?"

My smile dropped, no longer seeing the need to fake it. I rested my elbow on the table. "You know, it's not fair that you know my name, but I don't know yours."

"Dimitri."

I was shocked at how easily he gave it. "Dimitri," I repeated, noticing the way his lips twitched when I did. Maybe I did have some effect on him. "Okay, Dimitri, I want to know why you come here every night."

He nodded his head, taking another bite of his French Toast. "Why does it matter so much to you?"

"Because I know that there is something different about you," I admitted to him. Maybe honesty was the way to get my answers. "You're dangerous."

He studied me for a moment, "If I'm so dangerous, then why are you talking to me?"

"Because I haven't figured out if you are dangerous to me or not."

The look in his eyes made me think Dimitri was dangerous to me, but not in the way I was first worried about.

The next night Dimitri was there again, taking his usual booth in my section. I filled up the coffee cup before I went to him, setting it before him along with a menu. "Back again," I commented, jutting out my hip as I leaned against the table.

"Hello, Roza," He greeted me, happily taking the cup and sipping the hot liquid. "Do I need to order food again?"

I shrugged, feeling less hostile towards him since we spoke the previous night. "It does look better when you sit here for a couple of hours."

"What do you recommend?"

I considered it again, "Well, it's Tuesday, so Jo is cooking. Your best bet is the pie." Dimitri nodded.

"I'll have a slice of pie, then." He held the menu out to me.

I took it, leaning close, "And my name is Rose."

He smirked, "I know."

I wasn't sure when I started to look forward to my conversations with Dimitri.

It wasn't until I was sitting at home on one of my rare nights off that I found myself missing him. We talked a little more each night, dropping small facts about each other. I now knew that the books Dimitri read were Westerns because he loved the idea of cowboys and the wild west. He also told me he was Russian, moving to America as a teen.

I told him that I worked two jobs to cover my rent and that my favourite thing to eat was pepperoni pizza and chocolate brownies.

I found myself looking forward to gaining one of his rare smiles or even a full laugh. I knew I was taking a risk, but I couldn't find it in myself to care.

Dimitri wasn't here tonight. Again.

I was leaning against the counter, grumbling to myself with nothing else to do. It was a slow night with only two customers and they just wanted coffee. I had nothing to distract myself from the fact that Dimitri wasn't here for the third night in a row.

The last time he was here, I had made him laugh; a full-bodied, throwing his head back kind of laugh. It was the greatest thing I had heard; it made me feel happier than I had in years. Then he had to go and ruin it all by just not showing up.

I felt like an idiot.

I had finally built up the courage to ask him out to somewhere that wasn't where I worked. Even bought him a stupid Western novel I found at the thrift store, and he stopped coming.

After closing, I shoved the book deep into my bag, vowing to throw it into the river as I walked home.

I knew I never should have started talking to him. I let myself get close to someone, and they leave. It's what people do.

And I let myself fall for it again.

Locking the back door of the diner, I contemplated taking the long way home so I could work out some of my anger. Maybe go to the store on the corner and buy a pint of ice cream. Eat my feelings while watching a crappy movie.

"Roza."

The keys almost slipped from my fingers from surprise, fumbling to keep hold of them. I spun on my heel to stare up at the Russian that had been MIA. "What do you want?" I demanded, not in a good mood at all. Logically, I knew he probably had a reason, and it wasn't like he owed me anything. It wasn't like we were dating.

That thought soured my mood more.

Dimitri gave me an apologetic look, "I'm sorry I haven't been here lately. Some things came up."

I hated that my anger melted away the longer I was near him. "It's fine. You don't owe me anything."

He took a step closer, lifting his hand up towards me but faltered, "I missed talking with you." And with that, all my anger left me.

I twirled a loose piece of my hair with my finger, "I missed it too." God, how did he manage to make my insides turn to jelly with just a few words? "So, will I see you tomorrow?"

His expression made my stomach drop. "I can't—I want to but… " He dragged his fingers through his hair in frustration, "Roza. I need to tell you something, and I need you to not overreact."

"Overreact?" I took a step back instinctively, not liking where this was going. "What is it?" So many possibilities went through my mind, each worse than the last.

His lips pressed into a firm line before taking a deep breath, "The reason why I have been coming here every night was that I was tasked with finding you and figuring out if you were who we thought you were."

I blinked up at him, "Finding me? Who's we?"

"You once said there's something different about me, and there is. But there's also something different about you," Dimitri continued, ignoring my questions, "You and I are part of these special bloodlines that make us different."

I took another step back, "Special bloodlines?"

"Yes," Dimitri took a step closer, a hopeful look in his eyes.

"And why does that make us different?"

His eyes pinched, looking unsure of himself. "It makes us different because it gives us the strength to fight."

"To fight?" I raised my eyebrows at him, "To fight what?"

He cringed back a little, "Ah…Vampires."

I was right that there was something different about him. Dimitri is crazy, absolutely batshit crazy.

"Okay, then. I'm going to leave now," I told him, trying to sidestep around him. His hand shot out and grabbed mine. I yanked out of his grip; I pulled out the bottle of pepper spray I kept with me and aimed it at him. "Don't fucking touch me!"

Dimitri held his hands up, "Roza, please. I need you to believe me; you are in danger."

I scoffed, "The only danger to me right now is you. Just stay away from me." I was backing away from him when a set of footsteps approached from behind. They laid their hand on my shoulder, making me spin in panic.

"Dimitri! Oh hey, did you tell her already—Ahh!"

I sprayed the pepper spray into the man's eyes; as soon as he let go, I ran. I heard Dimitri calling after me, but I refused to look back; I needed to get as far away from him as possible.

I was panting by the time I reached my apartment, the muscles in my legs burned from how hard I had pushed myself. Not once did I stop. It made me realise how out of shape I'd become.

I didn't allow myself to stop to breathe until I was locked safely in my apartment, sliding the chain and double-checking that the deadbolt was latched. I could only hope that Dimitri didn't know where I lived, but who knows. He claimed he was watching me, though he always left before I closed; he could have waited around and followed me.

Great. Not only was the first guy I had liked in a while crazy, but he could also be stalking me.

I threw my bag on the ground, marching into the small bathroom. I cupped my hands under the tap to throw cold water over my face. I was exhausted from working since 9 a.m and just wanted to pass out on my bed, but I was too wired now, my mind going over every conversation I had with Dimitri.

How did I miss the red flags?

I messed up.

Deciding I needed to shower, I started to undo the buttons of my blouse, only to freeze when I heard a sound.

My apartment was a studio layout; other than the bathroom, everything was in one room. I had the door mostly closed; using the mirror, I peeked through the opening to see my window open and the curtain blowing in the wind.

I closed that before I left for work.

Moving slowly to not make any noise, I pulled out the pair of scissors I kept in the bathroom drawer. Not the best weapon, but all of my knives were out in the kitchen. I took a deep breath, waiting until I heard movement beside the bathroom door.

With the scissors gripped in my hand, I hooked my foot around the door to swing it open, scissors aimed at the person on the other side. They were quick, managing to catch my wrist, using their grip to yank me forward and out of the bathroom.

I swang my free arm back, elbowing them in the chest. It hardly seemed to faze them; shifting their hold to pin my arms at my side. With a swift kick, they knocked the back of my knees out, and I crumbled to the ground with their weight pinning me.

"Roza, stop fighting me," Dimitri whispered against my ear.

Anger and fear built up in me, struggling in his hold. "Get off me, Russian Buffy!"

"Not until you listen to me," He replied. His hold was firm, but he was being careful to not hurt me.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because you are in danger. I'm trying to help you!" he implored, "Please, just give me five minutes to explain everything."

The tone in his voice made me stop. I scowled but relented, "Okay. Five minutes."

"Thank you," he whispered, slowly releasing his hold and stepping away from me.

As soon as I was free, I spun around, swiping at him with the edge of the scissors. His brows furrowed, managing to dodge me. He caught my hand, twisting until I let go of the scissors. He took them and threw them to the other side of the room.

"I know you were going to do that," he remarked, eyeing me in case I tried anything else.

I groaned, frustrated, "Fine. Let me go already." I pulled my wrist back from him, rubbing at it. His apologetic look didn't make my glare lessen. "Talk fast. Or I'm going to scream." I doubted it would actually bring someone to help me. It was late at night, and I wasn't exactly living in the safest part of the city.

Dimitri held his hands up like one would to a spooked animal, "Okay. I'm not crazy. I can prove it to you if you trust me," he stated. "You could sense that there was something different about me because it's something we can do. You are also strong without trying. And fast. These are skills we are born with."

"So that we can fight vampires?" I replied sarcastically.

"I know you've felt it before. You've walked by someone and knew there was something wrong with them—something evil."

I shifted on my feet, not wanting to admit I had felt that. I ignored the sliver of doubt I had. "You mean other than with you," I retorted.

Dimitri's jaw clenched, turning away from me, muttering to himself in Russian. "Why didn't your parents tell you about this?"

I clenched my fists, "Well, I guess they died before they could. I think it's time you leave." I walked towards my front door, but Dimitri stepped in my path.

"They aren't dead, Roza," His expression was nervous.

"Pretty sure they died in a fire!" I yelled. At first, this was just annoying, but now I was pissed off. I didn't like bringing up my parents, and I didn't need him trying to joke about them.

"Janine and Abe Mazur are not dead."

I stepped back from him, shocked he knew their names. Not only that, but my father's family name. They always went by Hathaway; my father would say that Mazur was a special name that should only be shared with those I trusted. I swallowed thickly, "How do you know that name?"

"Because I've met them. I saw them last year. Your father was the one that told me to find you," Dimitri explained in a gentle tone.

My knees felt weak; I made it the two steps to my bed and sank onto the mattress. My parents were alive? I shook my head, "How?"

Dimitri crossed my room to peer out the window, body becoming tense. He looked back at me, eyes determined, "I can explain it, but right now, we need to get out of here."

His words took a moment to register, "What? Why?"

I could tell he was becoming irritated; he stepped forward to crouch in front of me, taking my hands in his, "I know that this is a lot, but I need you to trust me right now. People are looking for you—bad people. I need to get you away from here. I wish we had more time to talk about this stuff, but we have to leave now."

My mind was spinning, trying to decide if I trusted him. His eyes were honest as they stared into mine, that much I knew for sure. I glanced around my apartment, "But my stuff. My jobs. I can't leave."

He grimaced but seemed relieved that I wasn't telling him to get lost, "You can bring a few things, but pack light."

Numbly, I nodded; moving on autopilot, I pulled out my duffle bag and grabbed a handful of clothes. I carefully laid my father's scarf on top; I was wearing it the night they died. It was the last thing I had of them. I lost everything in that fire, my belongings, my house, and my parents.

But they might still be alive.

The bag wasn't full, but I didn't have a lot to begin with. I zipped it up and Dimitri took it from me, slinging it over his shoulder. He looked out the window again, I didn't know what was out there, but it made him uneasy.

"Is there a back entrance?"

"Umm… Yeah," I picked up my handbag off the ground, clutching it close. "It leads into the alley."

Dimitri pulled out his phone, thumb gliding over the screen before nodding towards the door, "Stay close to me, and no matter what, you have to do what I say. Do you understand?"

My heart was beating so hard in my chest that I was sure he could hear it. I didn't know what I was doing or why I was even trusting him. But everything he had said was true; there was something different about me, and I've always known there was.

When he held his hand out to me, I only hesitated for a moment before I took it. His fingers intertwined with mine, squeezing them reassuringly.

"Let's go."