Author's Note: Thanks, y'all for all your wonderful words! This fic will in fact be a ride on a sweet sweet fluffy cloud, because that's all I wanted. A little shorter this time, but will update soon!
The next time he sees Rose, she's in a tizzy.
"Hey Comrade," she says, leaning against the bestseller bookshelf he's restocking. He barely conceals his smile at her new nickname for him, going instead for an exaggerated eye roll. "Do you guys happen to carry any self-help books?"
He sees Viktoria at the customer service desk, smiling smugly at him. Too observant for her own good, she wouldn't stop gushing to their family about the girl who made Dimitri light up for days after he first met her. He would surely be hearing all about how Roza didn't even bother to ask me, she only had eyes for Dimka.
"Of course we do, Rose," he replies lightly. "How do you think we stay in business?"
When he hears another laugh escape her, Dimitri seriously considers taking an amateur comedy class. That laugh. He would do anything to elicit more.
"Good," she sighs, letting him lead the way to the back of the store. "I've got an advising appointment tomorrow and I need to decide the rest of my life TODAY."
As soon as he gets her to the section she needs, Rose zeros in on The Ultimate Guide for Choosing Your College Major. Ceremoniously, she throws her bag onto the ground, plucks the book from the shelf, and plops herself down next to her bag.
He shakes his head at her, and she insists he leave her there to her own demise.
Sure.
On his way back to the front, he gets a stroke of genius.
He jogs down the adjoining aisle, grabs the perfect book for her, and tries to make the walk back to her look as nonchalant as possible. He deposits the book into her lap.
Field Guide to Finding a New Career: A Guide to Outdoor Careers.
Rose gasps. "You remembered."
The next week when he sees her, she informs him that she chose Wildlife Biology.
By mid-October, they've settled into a comfortable routine.
Every Thursday, he can find her somewhere in the shop. Against the outdoor book shelves. Reading her current assignment in the squishy seats. Working on her homework in the café, armed with Viktoria's latest coffee creation.
On the rare occasion that she actually needs a book from them rather than a study spot, she always makes sure to have Dimitri lead her directly to the shelf… lest she get lost.
One day in December, as they're walking towards the cooking section where she's seeking the perfect book for her best friend's high school sweetheart, she looks at him quizzically.
"What's your favorite kind of book, comrade?"
He scoffs at her ridiculous nickname, always biting back a smile despite how ridiculous it is. She had gravitated to the Russian section of her European History course, last she explained.
"I really like Old Westerns."
She cuts him off with a groan of disgust. "Are you kidding me, Dimitri?"
"No," he states proudly, used to his sisters mocking him for the past decade of his life.
"Of all the books available to you," she laughs, mirroring that older gentleman from what seemed like a lifetime ago. "You choose cowboys and damsels in distress and an age without running water?"
"When I'm not in the shop, I even have my own leather duster," Dimitri teases.
Rose pauses to consider this new information, running her hands along some of the books. "I'd pay to see that," she says, offhanded. "Now, Comrade. What food would you cook if you were a pyromaniac in Missoula, Montana?"
Dimitri considers the question, not surprised by the technicalities from the various stories Rose had told him in their snippets of conversation. His hands lightly brush her shoulders, as if testing the water, grips them more firmly when he feels her relax under them, and spins her in the intended direction.
"What about Indian?"
A few days later, a tall, slim girl steps into the shop and strides up to him with a purpose.
She's pale. With equally light blonde hair and bright, jade green eyes staring back at him. He recognizes her almost immediately as she speaks to him.
"You're Dimitri, right? I'm Rose's friend, Lissa."
He had seen her before, laughing and leading Rose away one Thursday evening with the promise of strong drinks and cute boys.
He had tried not to notice his own jealousy flare at that sentence. He had tried not to notice how Rose's eyes had caught his, lingering for a moment before conceding. He had tried not to notice the hope fluttering in his chest.
"Oh, yeah. I thought you looked familiar. How can I help you today?"
Lissa pauses, staring deep into Dimitri's eyes and all over his face as if trying to read his soul. "I want to get Rose a gift card for Christmas," she states after a moment. "She's always here, and I figured she could find a few ways to use it."
He chuckles to himself, "I'm sure she'll appreciate you feeding her addictions."
"Oh trust me, Dimitri," Lissa smirks, looking at him in the almost eerie all-knowing way Rose had described. "I'm sure that, even if Rose finished all the books in your shop, she'd still have a reason to hang around."
Their exchange was completed quickly, Dimitri loading the money on the gift card and processing her transaction.
Lissa gives him a small, resolute nod before heading off towards the door. But, as she opens the door, bell twinkling above her, she turns back to him. "Dimitri?"
"Yes?" His head snaps towards her from the counter where he was rolling over their brief conversation in his head. Repeatedly. To no end.
"Rose is single," she states firmly. Dimitri was sure that his mouth was hanging off its hinges, gaping like a fish's might. "Do with that information as you might."
The thing is, Rose doesn't show up for a while after Lissa comes through.
He could blame it on exams, which Rose had bemoaned for a few weeks prior. He could blame it on the holiday, of course she had to go home, visit her family wherever they might be. He could blame it on a number of things… but he couldn't entertain the thought that maybe she was just as nervous about what Lissa said as he was.
Did Rose want him to know? Did she put Lissa up to it? Was Lissa here on her own accord?
'As you might' turns out to be a few restless nights, wallowing in his own thoughts.