I know it's not huge but someone requested this and I know that some have been hinting at wanting something from his point of view. I really am sorry if it's a little…not up to par, but I've hit a little bit of a block and life has been too busy to sit down and properly write. Thank you so much for all of the wonderful reviews. I truly enjoyed reading every last one of them. They honestly mean so much to me and please feel free to leave another after this chapter .

UPDATE: Thank you MissRuthless for pointing out my age mistake! I fat fingered when entering her age and totally didn't catch it before posting. I made sure to go back and correct it and just wanted to say thank you :).

Dimitri's POV-

"Is this wrong?" Her voice asks softly…almost as if she's afraid if she speaks loudly everything might fall apart.

"I thought it was." I tell her as I stroke her hair. I feel her stiffen slightly and tug her head back gently to kiss her soft lips. Pulling back, I move my fingers down her spine. "Then I realized anything that feels this right can't be wrong."

I feel the warmth of her body relax and cuddle into me some more. Her breath on my chest sends electricity throughout my body. This is right. Everything about this feels perfect. I never want it to end.

"Dimitri…" She whispers groggily. I hum in response. "I love you."

Looking down I meet her dark brown gaze. She looks scared at her words and a surge of protectiveness meet it. Leaning down I kiss her again and tighten my hold on her. Our breaths mingle when I pull away and I keep her gaze.

"I love you to Roza."

Waking up I felt want and disgust entwine within me. A 24-year-old man shouldn't be thinking about his 17 year old student this way. It's wrong and yet I can't seem to get her out of my head. The first time I'd ever laid eyes on Rose Hathaway, I knew my life would never be the same again. It was in Chicago and we went to the CPS office and there she was. She was in this room with glass walls. Toys were everywhere and small children were playing and a teenager in the corner was crying a little… but not Rose. She sat there quietly staring into the distance as if she was preparing herself for the worst. Braving herself for a battle she thought was heading into. She was strong. She was beautiful.

The thought had blown me away instantly. She was a child and yet I couldn't stop the thought from ringing in my head. Long dark brown hair, brown eyes, smooth almond skin. She looked exhausted, starved, and wore clothes that could be considered rags…but she was beautiful. I instantly knew I had to distance myself. I had to push myself as far away from the girl that drew me to her like a moth to a flame. Never had I ever once looked inappropriately at a minor…I was a history teacher in high school for fucks sake. So, it began. I was rude and standoffish with her. I made myself cold to her. I made sure she would run from me. Anything to keep the powerful pull from getting the better of me. I grew angrier the longer she was around. How could someone so broken and angry…how could this small slip of a girl draw me in without even knowing her? No that's a lie, I did know her in a way.

For 16 years Rose's mother had been sending letters about Rose every month. At first, for years, each monthly envelope contained pictures and a letter of praise. Then, slowly, the letters grew angrier. The girl in the pictures started to look more tired, hungry, and less innocent. Like the dark side of the world had invaded her soul and was slowly poisoning her. Then the letters stopped coming altogether. Mama had grown worried and even reached out to Abe…Rose's father. Not only did the girl come from a rough background, but the man who fathered her was none other than the shadiest man in town. Abe Mazur was the king of crime on the East Coast. His influence reached far and wide and the man set me on edge. Any person fathered from him had to be bad news. At least that's another reason I used to keep Rose away.

Then I realized she didn't know him and from the looks on his face that first morning…he didn't know her either. In fact, she looked at him as if he was the last person in the world she wanted to have anything to do with. Maybe she wouldn't be the tremendous trouble I had unfairly pegged her as. I told myself it didn't matter and I hung onto my distant and cold demeanor…until about a week after she arrived.

The sound of screaming and footsteps banging up the stairs slams me out of my sleep. Jolting out of bed I quickly run out of my room to see mama rushing into Rose's bedroom. Viktoria starts to rush out before spying me and going back into her room when I shake my head.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! NO!"

Walking over to Rose's doorway I silently sit in the shadows and watch as mama sits on her bed trying to soothe her as she flails against something in her dream. Something inside of me breaks slightly at the sight and with her next scream I feel the wall I've established fall.

"You're hurting me!" She screams at her invisible attacker. "PLEASE YOU'RE HURTING ME!"

"Rose! It's okay you're safe!" Mama's voice doesn't do anything to settle her and a sob breaks out from her.

"NO!" Bolting up with wide eyes she finally falls into silence.

Her chest moves quickly and her hair and clothes are soaked with sweat. The terror of her dream still lingers in her eyes. The usual color in her skin has left, leaving her concerningly pale. Mama strokes her hair, cooing to her gently as tears fall down her cheeks. What kind of nightmare would cause this much of a reaction? The question echoes in my head before a horrible realization dazes me. I lean on the door and breathe out past the sudden anger assaulting me. This wasn't a nightmare…it was a memory. Nausea rises in me at all the things it could have been about and I slowly back out of the doorway and head back into my room. The picture of Rose sitting up in bed quiet, crying, sweat soaked, pale bodied, and with a vacant look on her face burns into my mind.

Anger turns to guilt. Guilt turns to a promise. I would never treat Rose the same again.

The promise was easy to keep. I notice she likes hot chocolate while she studies, so I make sure she has some whenever she works. Rose cleans and helps bring in groceries without being asked, so I make sure that I help her. She falls asleep reading or working on assignments, so I make sure to turn off the lights before I head to bed. I even leave a book every now and then outside her door, because I noticed she loves to read in her spare time. Each task is easy to do. Yet with each task I noticed more about her. She was quiet and yet outspoken. She was extremely intelligent and it showed greatly in her essays and schoolwork. She avoided kids her age and seemed to have no interest in dating. She also worked hard at her new job and was unconsciously kind to those around her, even though she flinched when the affection was returned. Rose Hathaway was an independent, defiant, damaged, puzzle. A puzzle that I grudgingly wanted to solve.

Rolling off my bed I quickly start my morning push-up routine as I lose myself to my thoughts of Rose. Mama kept to her promise and within the month that Rose had been with our family, she had gone from skeleton to a healthy teenage girl…if still a tad bit slim. With the steady influx of nutritional food her skin had gained color and cleared out. Her hair had gone from lank and greasy to full and shiny. Rose had gone from beautiful to stunning and with that the silver cord between us yanked at me dangerously hard.

I barely register myself starting the shower and getting in. All thoughts of the intense attraction…the pull and Rose consume me. Even with the pull I had prided myself on my self-control and yet I slipped. Two weeks ago, I was able to interact with her and keep the appropriate distance and a week ago that pretense shattered. One minute I'm walking her home. The next we were tumbling in the snow as Rose attempted to prove that she could handle herself. The need that slammed into me was overwhelming and to my horror my body heated, my breathing became hard, and my cock rose to the occasion. Pushing her off and walking as fast as I could away was all I could manage before I ended up on the Sex Offender list for statutory rape and child molestation.

Groaning under my breath I shut off the shower and step out. Wiping down my arms and legs I vow that, while I won't be harsh, I needed to, yet again, put distance between myself and Rose Hathaway.

"Oh, fuck me."

Ice floods my brain and my head snaps to the side to find the center of my thoughts, and the source of the pained sounding moan, standing in the bathroom doorway. It barely occurs to me that I forgot to lock the door as my gaze, against my will, runs over her. Silky bare legs, deep red lacy panties, and a matching lace camisole with no bra underneath. Choking on my breath I can't seem to look away and can feel my body heating up at the sight of her.

Oh fuck me, was right.

I hope it wasn't too all over the place but it was requested and I wanted to give it a try. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW!