DIMITRI

"Yeah!" Rose roared out with the crowd as the flashing lights and victory music blared to life again. Turning, she high-fived the fans behind us as they celebrated, and I laughed a bit at her enthusiasm. You'd never know that this was her first hockey game by her reaction. The music began to settle again, and the sounds of blades on the ice drew everyone's focus once more.

"Having fun?" I asked, taking her hand in mine, even though she never took her eyes away from the players.

Her smile brightened a bit more and she nodded. "The best. I love this. This is a hundred times better than football."

The game we were watching was between two rival west coast minor league teams. Still, with the amount of fanfare and excitement around us, you'd never guess it wasn't a major NHL game. This was obviously a beloved hometown team. It didn't surprise me that Rose was enjoying herself. Not only was the home team leading 4-2 over their rival, but gloves had also already been thrown twice, and I wouldn't be surprised if there was a third fight before the night was over.

She winced at a near miss by the goalie. The players reset to one of the circles to face off again and she turned towards me. "Did you ever play hockey growing up?"

The question seemed to come out of nowhere. Well, the idea that I would play hockey for some reason seemed to come out of nowhere, at least. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you brought me here," she said, drawing her hand across the arena. "Plus, I don't know, it wouldn't surprise me. Ice and Siberia and all that."

"You know you're going to be living there by the end of the week, right?" I smirked at her. For once, in the midst of cheering and upbeat music, the thought of her moving didn't seem to send a dark cloud over us.

"That's why I want to get the jokes out now. They won't be nearly as funny later."

I laughed, thinking of all the jokes she would be losing once she learned the truth about my home. Her soon-to-be home. I'd almost miss them.

"Well, just so you know; No, I've never played hockey. I keep up with some of the big players from home, Ovechkin primarily, but this is my first live game too." The home team barely missed a shot, and the crowd around us gave a collective groan. "In fact, I actually can't skate at all. I'm horrible at it."

Rose had still been half-focused on the game while I was talking to her, but suddenly she straightened up in her seat. She slowly turned to face me, looking like a cat ready to pounce on its prey. "Wait. You can't skate?"

I hesitated, already knowing that there was some trap lying in wait for me but unsure quite how to avoid it. "No…."

"Oh, this is too good." When I gave her a wary look, still fearful of what she had up her sleeves, she continued. "You are amazing at pretty much everything you do. I haven't so much as seen you stumble before, but you're telling me that you can't skate?"

Typically, seeing Rose so delighted would have made me happy too, but there was a conspiratorial glint in those eyes that held me back. "It's not that big of a deal," I insisted.

"No. It really is. There is something out there that I might be better at than you. I don't know what to do with this information. I feel like I've been waiting for something like this forever, and now I'm drawing a blank." Her lip tucked between her teeth as she considered her options, and my misgivings slipped away for a moment. It all returned a second later when she grinned and said, "You know we have to go skating now, right?"

"Right now?"

"Of course not, Comrade. Later." She shrugged nonchalantly before giving me a smirk from between her lashes. "Maybe date number two."

"Two?"

Her eyes looked at me in question, but the quirk on her lips told me she already knew the answer. "Well, I'm assuming there will eventually be another date, right?"

I pulled her towards me so I could give her a chaste little kiss, her lips feeling warm against the chilly air of the arena. "Of course, Roza. Of course."

Another horn sounded, accompanied by a cheering crowd, and my Roza was gone – dancing and celebrating with the rest of the fans. They had scored yet another goal, and I had found my own little victory, as well.

The game's final score ended in a 5-3 win, and though the third fight had never materialized, Rose still seemed obsessed with the sport.

"It's official. I'm a hockey fan," she decided with my arm slung around her shoulders. A mass of people exited the arena, all ready to return to their homes tonight and face the day tomorrow. I wasn't among them, however. It was late, and I knew we probably should head back to the hotel, but the thought of tonight ending left my stomach twisted in knots. I wasn't ready to let Rose go.

Not yet.

Thankfully, Rose seemed to be of the same mind. The hotel was close to the restaurant and arena. Close enough that we had decided to cut through the park earlier, waving to the little children playing hopscotch or swinging on the monkey bars (which I somehow managed to keep Rose from testing out). Old couples had smiled at us walking hand-in-hand past them, perhaps remembering their younger years, oblivious to the heartbreak that was just around the corner for us. The park had been filled then, but now it was silent.

"Want to take a walk?" I asked, gesturing to the meandering path we had taken earlier. The lamps were now lit, giving the park entrance a romantic and almost ethereal look. The occasional tree glittering with fairy lights only intensified the feeling. It seemed like a good way to end the day or just let it linger a little longer.

She nodded, tucking herself tighter against me before we carved a pathway through the crowd. One of the benefits of my height was that people tended to make way for me wherever I went, so it didn't take long for us to reach the quiet sanctuary of the park. We took the same path that we had before, passing by the children's playground. Without me holding her back this time, Rose broke away towards the monkey bars. She leaped up to catch one of the rungs and swung back and forth the length of the set, all while wearing that bright smile of hers that was now etched into my soul.

It wasn't unusual for the novices to practice with monkey bars as part of an obstacle training course. It was one of many tools that we'd use to run them through the paces along with ropes, traverse walls, and hurdles. I'd watched Rose race through those exercises hundreds of times. However, seeing her like this, surrounded by colorful slides and pretend castles, was a whole new experience.

Suddenly, she kicked her feet up, folding her body until her legs could slide between the rungs. With practiced grace, she hooked one bar behind both her knees and locked onto the next bar by her ankles. Then she let go with her hands, falling upside down until she was hanging just by her legs. Her hair fell, creating a curtain that swayed with the gentle breeze blowing through the trees.

"Come on, Dimitri." She waved at me, beckoning me over with a topsy-turvy grin. "Come play."

"Play?" The whole idea of playing should have felt foreign to me. I was an adult who lived his life fighting monsters, dealing death, and teaching others to do the same. I barely had the chance to read, which was the only personal luxury I ever allowed myself. I didn't have the spare time or energy for something so blissfully simple as playing.

And that was completely true…before I met Rose.

She had the habit of making a game out of almost everything. She'd race me on the track each morning. She'd insist on tallying up wins during sparring matches, especially once she started beating me regularly. She'd even force quick bouts of 'rock, paper, scissors' to decide where we should start on our weight equipment circuits. She opened with paper well over half the time and was constantly frustrated as to why I was always beating her because of the easy tell, but that was part of the game, too. She always found a way to make things exciting and fun; always found a reason to laugh or smile. And somehow, I always ended up laughing and smiling with her.

I slipped off my duster, laying it over a railing on the play castle, before crossing the soft protective flooring towards her. Unlike Rose, I didn't need to climb the side ladder or jump up to grasp the bars. She shot me an inverted glare as I reached above me to clasp the bar only a space or so ahead of her and pulled myself up once, twice, and nearly a third before I felt a finger jab into my tensed abs. Rose let out a little huff.

"I said play! Don't do chin-ups!" It was hard to take her scolding seriously while hanging from playground equipment, but I did my best.

I let go and brushed my palms on my jeans. "What do you suggest, then?"

She thought for a moment, her cheeks starting to tinge pink as blood rushed to her face. If the position bothered her, though, she hadn't let on yet.

While she was thinking, an idea struck me. I discovered her weakness by accident a few weeks ago. I had managed to pin her during practice and when I'd let her up, my thumb had brushed the dip of her waist. She had jumped, and I immediately went into protective mode, wondering where she had been hurt. She had brushed me off, insisting several times that she was fine until I finally got the truth out of her.

She was ticklish. Very ticklish.

Eyes locked on hers, I weaved my fingers together in front of me, arching them backward until the knuckles cracked one by one. With each little pop, Rose's eyes widened. My smile tilted and before I could even make my move, she was shrieking and scrambling to pull herself up on the rungs again. She didn't get far before I found her sensitive ribs and gave her a playful pinch before tickling her in earnest.

"Dimitri!" Her voice was pitched high and loud. I should've probably hushed her so that we didn't attract unwanted attention, but her unbridled giggling was impossible for me to quiet. "Please! Stop! Stop! I'm going to fall!"

I'd never let that happen. I caught her just as Rose's ankles slipped from the bars, holding her tight as she attempted to resecure herself. Once I was confident enough to let her go, she scurried up until she was sitting on top of the bars and glaring down at me. Despite her narrowed eyes and flushed cheeks, she was unable to hold her outraged facade. Annoyed, perhaps, but the obvious grin that she was trying to hold back betrayed her.

"That wasn't very nice," she warned, keeping herself out of my reach.

She scooted back a bit as I grasped the metal rungs one more time to pull myself up and over the bars until I could settle myself beside her. Once she eventually decided that I wasn't going to ambush her, she cautiously moved into my offered embrace. I fought the temptation to pinch her side again, but with us so high up, I didn't want to chance her falling or getting hurt.

"Wow, it's really pretty here." With our little vantage point, we could see nearly every corner of the quiet little oasis in the city. The park was named for the river running through it, but it seemed to offer plenty of other things to enjoy. Off to one side was the lighted concert pavilion, the technicolor flashing lights still dancing even though there wasn't any music. Further away was a monolithic clock tower announcing that it was about half past ten. Perhaps the most impressive was the old-school carousel, complete with painted horses and nostalgic organ music. It was off now, but children had been flocking to the attraction earlier.

I wasn't usually one for big cities, much preferring the quieter towns like the one I grew up in, but even I had to agree with her. "It really is."

I stretched my arms above my head, rolling my shoulders this way and that to work out the kinks. This weekend hadn't been physically grueling in the traditional sense, but the stress of everything was getting to me. A knot at the base of my neck was already screaming at me for release, and as I tried to find a little relief, I saw Rose staring at me. More specifically, she was staring at the area where my fingers were working. My marks, I realized.

She didn't say anything, but I could see that bittersweet wistfulness overcome her.

"It's just ink, Rose," I tried to assure her, doing my best to downplay the marks. "The tattoo itself doesn't mean anything. It's the person behind them that matters. It's about the promise they make. You have that promise written in your heart, Roza. All you're missing is the ink."

My words sounded hollow, though, especially knowing that a promise mark wasn't just a point of pride for guardians but a sense of belonging. Novices worked years to earn their mark, and once it was branded onto your body, you were part of a brotherhood larger than yourself. Everything I had told her was true, but it wasn't the whole truth.

"I know," She said with a shrug as I let my hair fall and covered my tattoos once more. "Logically, I get that. It's just strange to think that I'll never have it. I mean, I already have the molnija, so I guess that's something, but I always expected my marks. It's just strange to think that it'll never happen now." She gave me a half-hearted laugh. "On the bright side, there's no reason to cut my hair anymore."

I gave her a sidelong glance, lifting my brow in question. "I thought we agreed that you wouldn't cut your hair."

"That's right. I'm supposed to wear it up," she said, obviously remembering our conversation from months ago. She gathered her hair in the palm of her hand, finger combing the strands until they all sat high on the crown of her head. I almost offered her my hair tie when she let everything fall again. "I guess it would be a sin to destroy all this awesomeness."

"It really would be." I reached over, twisting a lock around my finger. I loved her hair, not quite obsessed but admittedly not far from it either. From the moment we started working together, I would find little excuses to touch it. I'd justify the inappropriate behavior by telling myself that she couldn't have hair hanging in her eyes, but the truth was that I just wanted a reason to be closer to her. Even if it was just as small as brushing a stray curl back behind her ear. Now that we weren't relying on bullshit excuses to hide our feelings, running my fingers through the dark strands was a new pastime for me. "Never cut it. Please."

"I won't, I promise." She smiled, taking my breath away with a single look.

I spotted a neon sign through the trees near our hotel. "You know what? Fuck it."

Rose's eyebrows lifted at my bluntness. I often chided Rose for her language, but mine was hardly better, especially when the situation called for something a little more…expressive. "Fuck what, exactly? Not that I'm opposed to the idea."

"No, I mean fuck the rules. Let's get you your promise mark." I gestured towards one of the few businesses still illuminated at this hour. The blue, red, and purple sign beckoned us like a lighthouse.

"I don't think that's allowed. Couldn't we get in trouble for something like that?"

"I'm not opposed to breaking the rules when they aren't just." I gave her a pointed look. "And your situation is anything but just. You deserve those marks, so let's get them."

She stared at me like I had suddenly grown a second head. I guess I could understand her reaction since I was a self-proclaimed stickler for the rules. By the book and down to the letter. I didn't always like those rules, but I understood why they were there and respected them despite my personal feelings. Now, though? Now I wasn't sure I could fall in line anymore.

With a hop and a twist, I slipped down from the monkey bars and reached up towards her. She didn't bother bracing herself as she jumped into my arms, trusting me completely to catch her. Once I did, her entire body slid against mine as I lowered her to the ground. As she finally found her footing, not an inch between us, I dipped my face to hers for a kiss.

What was supposed to be a quick little peck became something much more heated. Her lips brushed against mine, opening the moment I pressed further. I relished the way she melted into my body and the little moan that she made as I cupped her cheek in my palm. God, that sound would be burned forever in my mind. As delectable as it was, I knew it only served as a primer for every other little noise of pleasure I knew I could tease out of her later. Just like that, I was ready to abandon my earlier idea and drag her back to the hotel.

A whistle and some laughter sounded from somewhere in the darkness, pulling us apart like two teenagers.

"Let's go." I grabbed her wrist, looking twice before pulling her with me across the street towards the storefront. The door chimed as I opened it, and I ushered Rose inside. The low buzz of the machines created a unique atmosphere alongside the scent of ink and disinfectant. Along one of the walls, a mass of black frames showcased hundreds of pictures, each showing a miniature work of art in the form of ink on skin.

While a few people were seated at the various stations, I was pleased to see that two of the five were empty. A curtain blocked off a sixth station where I assumed the occupant needed a little more privacy.

"Welcome to Clock Tower Ink. Name's Antony. How can I help you?" A man with an impressive full-sleeve tattoo on his left arm approached us from the other side of the welcome desk. He looked almost like a cyborg with the bio-mechanical workings printed underneath his skin. It seemed like a matching design was already in progress on the other side.

"I was hoping you had time for a tattoo. It's a fairly simple design." I turned, showing him my own tattoos. "It's the S-shaped one."

I heard him 'hmm' from behind me, and when I turned back around, he was slipping a pair of reading glasses into his front pocket.

"That shouldn't be a problem at all," He said. "Anything else? Any piercings?"

I looked at Rose, allowing her to answer if she'd like to. When she remained quiet, I told him that we were okay with just the one tattoo. The cyborg man directed us to another artist who looked at my neck again before asking Rose where she wanted the design.

"Do you want it on your neck too? Like his?"

Her brows furrowed a little as she considered the idea. While the back of the neck was the traditional place to tattoo the promise mark, we were way past traditional.

"I want to be able to see it," she said, looking at me as if she was asking permission.

"It's your tattoo, Rose. You can put it wherever it feels right."

She glanced down, flipping her hands back and forth before pointing to her left wrist. "Here," she said, pointing to the place just under her palm. "Horizontally."

The guy nodded. "We can do that."

He made a quick sketch on a pad of transfer paper, checking against the image on my neck and confirming that it was what Rose was looking for. The design she chose was a little different than what I had, with thinner lines and more prominent curves, but it fit her perfectly. Bold but not overbearing.

After transferring the design to her skin, the sound of the tattoo gun whirled to life in a steady buzz. She bit her lip as the first sting hit her.

I stayed with her for a moment, but when an idea struck me, I excused myself to find the man from before, Antony. He was at another station, refilling a box of disposable gloves and tidying things up a little.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," I began, waiting a moment for him to finish adjusting a few items in the drawer before shutting it. "I know I only asked for one tattoo initially, but if you have time, could you manage a second one?"

He checked the clock. "My last appointment for the night is a half-hour late, so I think it's safe to say that I have some time on my hands. What were you thinking?" His smile was bright, and in a pair of khakis and a white short-sleeved button-down shirt, he seemed like the antithesis of the stereotypical tattoo artist.

I gestured to a wall of frames I had seen earlier. Leading him over, I pointed to one. "Is this possible? I'll only be in town tonight."

He nodded. "As long as you're okay with me simplifying the design a little, I can make that happen. You okay with greyscale?"

The original design had hints of deep reds and burgundy, but as beautiful as it was, I think I'd prefer to keep it more straightforward. "That would be perfect."

After a bit more discussion, I was seated with my shirt unbuttoned in a chair a few stations away from Rose. Her eyes were closed, almost in a sort of trance while the artist worked. With such a simple design, it wouldn't take long for Rose's tattoo to be finished, but by the time she was cleaned and wrapped, my tattoo was already underway.

"You're getting one?" She asked, sitting beside me and taking my hand in her unbandaged one. I gave it a little squeeze.

"I figured if you were getting a tattoo, maybe I should too." I tried not to wince as the needle bit into a more sensitive spot. I was used to getting the marks on the back of my neck, but that didn't mean I found the process of tattooing a pleasant one. Some people insisted that it could be a meditative experience. I wasn't one of them.

She looked at the faint image from the transfer paper. "A compass?"

"It felt right," I said, trying to focus on her touch. Antony, so focused on his work, didn't acknowledge the conversation between us.

"How so?" She asked, a hint of sass lacing her curiosity. "Are you lost?"

"Not yet," I admitted. I had a feeling I would be soon, though.

A peculiar understanding passed between us. Since the very beginning, Rose had been able to see past my walls and into a part of me that no one else could. Sometimes, I wondered if she knew me better than I even knew myself. Before I met her, I had never been one to believe in soulmates. Rose made me a believer.

Rose was my soulmate, and I knew it without a single doubt in my mind. More than that, Rose was my home. My North Star. And yes, I would undoubtedly feel lost without her. But my heart, beating right below the compass now etched on my chest, would eventually lead me back to her.

I would always find my way back to my Roza.

Author's Note

I have good news and bad news. The good news is my birthday is this week! The other good news is that next week's chapter is about 80% smut. The third piece of good news? I've finally written "Hi My Name is Rose Hathaway" from Dimitri's POV so be sure to check that out if you haven't already. It's titled "Cowboys and Thieves."

Question of the week: What is your ideal way to spend the weekend?

Sometimes I like to have adventures and go hiking or visit somewhere new, but more often than not, I'm happy to just spend a quiet weekend with my family reading and writing.

Thank you all for your support, and feel free to drop a comment. They always brighten my day and I do my best to answer each and every one.