Rose

Before The Year Started...(Part 5)

The small smile that breezed across his face was dazzling.

We laid still for a long while after that before I shivered again. He gently tapped my arm, asking me to allow him to sit up. He tucked the shirt around me, sliding my arms through the sleeves and buttoning it up. He maneuvered out from under me and stood in all his solid and naked glory, every ab, muscle, and solid outline of his taut body on display. I watched in appreciation as he headed back to the bedroom. I was still sitting on the floor when he came back, briefs and cargo pants on but unbuttoned and thankfully still no shirt. He had a pile of blankets in his arms as he headed to the kitchen. He refilled our coffee mug and walked back toward me. He looked almost boyish, like a kid preparing to make a blanket fort of some sort.

"Come settle yourself on the couch."

I stood up and followed him back out to the living room. After he handed me my previously discarded underwear to put on, we were soon settled on the couch, barely clad in clothes, passing a coffee mug back and forth and wrapped in layers of blankets and each other as we faced out to the ocean, the remnants of the previous night's snow visible as shimmering dew drops reflected by the early sun light.

I leaned back against him, relishing in the solid feel of him against my back. It almost felt intimate. Too intimate for the one night stand this was supposed to be. I couldn't remember once ever having stayed over some guy's house after drunkenly sleeping with them the night before. This was all...different. For one thing, I hadn't been drunk last night. Tipsy, maybe, but I'd been clearheaded enough to decide that I didn't want to spend the night alone. Another new aspect was that this wasn't just some guy looking to get laid. This was a man who, from the looks of things, was as lonely as I was and just wanted a warm bed partner for the night. This whole thing wasn't supposed to be anything more than one night but it felt so new and right, fulfilling and undoubtedly frightening for reasons I didn't dare look further into.

"I don't do this often either, you know," he said after a long prolonged silence that was neither uncomfortable nor awkward. "One night stands," he clarified.

"Hmm. I kind of got the impression you did."

"Why?" he asked, not sounding offended so much as amused and surprised.

"A hot doctor with a sexy accent that travels abroad saving the lives of the helpless; you have this unbelievable house that's practically empty, no photos of any kind or personal affects, and you sit in sad lonely bars by yourself on New Years Eve drinking entire bottles of liquor your first night home after two years away," I listed. "All of that indicates that you are a lonely soul who most likely seeks solace in alcohol and/or sex."

I felt the rumble of his laughter vibrate through his chest. I glanced up and the mirth in his eyes was brighter than I expected and I couldn't help but smile along with him as I continued.

"No one sits in a dark lonely bar by themselves on New Years Ever after coming back from two years away without there being some kind of hidden baggage or issues. And what do people with baggage and issues do? They abuse any combination of the four vices: drugs, crime, drinking and sex," I explained.

"Isn't that a bit of a hasty generalization?"

I shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. It's true to some degree, obviously, or last night wouldn't have happened."

He tilted his head back so it was resting on the back of the couch exposing his long, beautifully tan neck and the sharp jawline peppered with the shadow of stubble.

"Alright. So what vices do you abuse?"

A nervous laughed escaped me. "What makes you think I have vices?" I mean I totally do but he didn't know that. Not for certain. I mean, by my logic, if he assumed I had vices then he also assumed I had baggage and issues. Which I also totally do but again, he didn't know that.

"Were you or were you not in the same lonely bar as I was by yourself?" he rhetorically asked, rolling his head down to look at me as though I was crazy for not realizing the obvious. "The evidence speaks for itself. Although, the fact that you were drinking someone else's Vodka makes it so much worse."

He had a point. Damn. And here I was feeling pretty smart about pegging him down as a guy who clearly treated his issues the way most men treated their issues. Well at least most men I've met. Knowing he had faults made him less of this majestic man I was making him out to be in my head.

"Good point," I acquiesced. "Do I get extra for fighting?"

He thought about it for a moment. "No because you didn't do any of the hitting. From what I could see it wasn't your fault. It was just wrong place, bad timing."

Wrong place, bad timing. If there was ever a phrase to sum up my life in its entirety, this was it.

"I think I just found the title to my memoirs," I murmured. I didn't think he'd heard me but I felt the slow vibration of his chest as he laughed.

"I'll fight you for it," he propositioned. Did he have a life filled with bad timing that were the catalysts of horrible events too? Sometimes I forgot that I wasn't the only person in the world with problems.

"Or we can share the title and make a collection of sad life stories and abused vices," I offered.

"Deal," he agreed generously offering me the last of the coffee. I don't know about him but I was in too comfortable of a position to get up or allow him up to get more coffee. "You didn't answer my question."

"Which was?" I asked leaning up to set the mug down.

"Your vices? You accurately guessed mine: alcohol...and sex when possible. Alcohol's a lot easier to get to though."

"A guy like you has trouble finding sex?" I asked, disbelief clear in my voice.

"When you're in a village with limited access to supplies or healthcare, finding a bed buddy isn't exactly the utmost priory, but don't avoid the question," he pressed. "Your vices?"

"I think its obvious," I evasively answered. It wasn't exactly the truth but it wasn't a lie either. Alcohol was my closest friend these last few years. Dimitri was right in saying that a partner for sex wasn't easy to find. It was a lot of work and I'd met many a men that wanted to make it more than a one night encounter. I hadn't been interested. The point was a quick fix to numb the pain that liquor sometimes failed to alleviate. Anything longer would just create too many attachments and more problems.

"You and I have a lot in common."

"Sort of," I admitted.

He raised one perfectly arched brow in question.

"I dabbled in more than one vice but for the most part, Tequila and sex are my best friends," I admitted, unable to look up at him. I fiddled with the edge of the blanket, looping it around my fingers. There was a stretch of silence where I wondered if I'd some how offended him or he was bothered by my admission.

"I'm not a druggie or some criminal if that what has you worried."

"How old are you?" he suddenly asked.

"Trying to see if you can throw me out without there being any legal repercussions?" The look on his face was less amused, more so...offended? That'd I'd make such a comment. Dimitri didn't seem like the type to throw a girl out on her ass, even if I'd been under age. If anything he seemed the type to feel guilty about it and turn himself in.

"Humor me," he insisted in such a tender voice that my heart skipped a few beats and my breath stopped short.

"Guess," I teased by way of answering.

A ghost of a smile played at his lips as though he was catching on to the fact that getting straight answer out of me was like pulling teeth. I like to have fun and play games when I could.

"Old enough to drink in a bar," he surmised.

"There is such a thing as a fake I.D," I pointed out and his eyes bulged just enough in worry that I had to laugh as I put him a ease. "Not that I need one."

His hand, which had been wrapped loosely around my waist, moved up just enough to give the softness of my stomach a playful squeeze for joking with him. It was such an unfamiliar sensation, I was all over the place flopping around the couch until he took mercy on me and stopped. I squirmed against him, laughing as I apologized. "I was just kidding," I said around my fit of giggles. Where the hell had that come from? I don't think I've ever giggled. I didn't even think my body knew the word existed. I sobered as he continued to guess.

"The bar tender seemed familiar with you," he noted. "Which tells me you frequent that bar often. And you referred to yourself as an adult when you were arguing with that woman last night." He did the same thing he'd been doing all morning, tilting my face up as though he couldn't see me clearly though he'd seen various parts of my body in some imaginative positions recently. His fingers stroked down my cheek, forcing my hair back behind my ears. "I'd guess twenty-three?"

"Wow, you're good," I told him impressed. "A year off but still, impressive."

He laughed. "Higher or lower?"

"Lower."

"You'll be twenty-three this year then so I'm gonna say I was right. You're young for someone that's apparently dabbled a little in all the vices."

"Isn't this the point in my life when I'm supposed to mess up the most?"

"A friend of mine used to tell me to do anything illegal or trouble-making before I was eighteen so that the likelihood of me being charged as an adult would go down," he told me, a reminiscent expression on his face.

"That's actually good advice." I was given relatively lenient sentences for my crimes when I was a teen. Dimitri didn't need to know that, though. "Did you get into any trouble?" I asked him instead.

"Nothing too serious," he said in a surprisingly dismissive tone. Guess he had his own secrets he wanted to keep. I could respect that but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious.

"So how old are you?" I countered.

"Guess?" he answered quickly as though he'd had the response at the ready, waiting for me to toss the question back at him. This was dangerous territory. He was obviously older than I was.

I sat up and turned around, settling on the balls of my feet so I could read his face as clearly as he could mine though he had education in medicine to back him up. I took his face in my hands, rubbing my thumb beneath his eyes. They were tired and worn around the edges but the trait did nothing to hinder his attractiveness. The irises and pupils of his eyes themselves were somehow both vibrant and tranquil for such a dark color. His hairline was in great shape and the stubble along his jaw gave him a masculine but aged feel.

"Late twenties, early thirties."

He shook his head with mirth. "Too vague. I want specifics."

"Fine, but don't blame me if I offend you."

He neither agree nor disagreed.

"Twenty-nine."

"Is that your honest guess?"

I nodded. "Am I way off?"

"Not too bad. I'm thirty-two."

"Whew," I sigh dramatically, wiping my brow. "I'm glad I went with my safe guess," I admitted.

He smiled before his fingers found their way buried into my side again, giving my side a soft, playful squeeze. "You're young for a doctor."

"Crammed as many classes as I could into every available semester," he explained. I almost asked why. I buried my curiosity down, remembering neither of us was here to share anything too personal.

"I barely graduated high school," I countered as he rested his head back again, eyes closed. "Did you always want to be a doctor?" Was that too personal? It was weird, trying to balance on the thin line between personal and casual conversation.

He was quiet for so long I thought he wasn't going to answer or maybe he'd fallen asleep. We hadn't exactly had the best sleep last night/this morning.

"I knew I wanted to help people," he finally answered. His succinct answer said a lot about him. As I guessed, he was a good person. He had faults but he always wanted to help people. He seemed like he had so much going on with himself too, though. Traveling for work must have been lonely in some sense. My father and my uncle used to travel for their individual jobs a lot and would complain how lonely it was. Dimitri came back to a house that was sparse, which made sense since he traveled, but there was nothing personal about the place. It was stark and so solitary. So he always wanted to help people but did he ever take time to help himself? He didn't elaborate further and I certainly wasn't going to ask him to. It wasn't my business. We'd done a lot of talking, a lot more than I was accustomed to after nights like this. I was feeling pretty sleepy myself.

I felt like I should have left at some point, taken my chance when he fell asleep and left without so much as a goodbye. It didn't seem right. I realized I liked him, a lot more than I liked anyone else lately. He understood me better than anyone else lately. He understood because in some ways, like he said, we're similar.

I decided to take advantage of this opportunity to sleep and snuggle down into the blankets, making sure his bare chest is covered before I make myself comfortable against him as my pillow. I don't think I'll be able to fall asleep as easily as I do but with the distant sound of waves crashing along the shore and the warmth surrounding me, I'm out like a light. It feels like only a second has passed before I blink and I glance at the clock and see a few hours have passed. I feel slow and groggy, my eye lids still heavy with sleep as I register the new position we're laying in.

We're relaxed back onto the cushions, Dimitri having slid down behind me at some point, hunkered down into the blankets. He was so close I could feel his cool breath against my cheek. His arm was heavy around my waist, the tips of his fingers stroking the exposed skin of my stomach where his shirt has ridden up. I dared a glance behind me and he stirred, his heavy lidded gaze meandering over my face before landing on my lips. I wondered if he'd kiss me again, if we'd resume our activities from before. As best as I could manage in the small space, I turned, pressing myself against him. He shifted just enough so that most of his body was over my own, our breaths and the soft thump of our heartbeats in sync, his arms taut with the strain of holding himself up so that he doesn't crush me. I almost tell him it's okay, that I want the secure heavy weight of another person on top of me. I'm also scared too. Would it be too much? Too close for an encounter that's turning out to be anything but brief and distant? Then I see it, the shift, the sudden vacant look in his eyes. He's distancing himself, the way we should have been the moment we woke up this morning. I should have left sooner. None of this, this closeness should have happened because now that I've had some, I kind of don't want to let it go.

He pulled back, leaning against the couch and pulling me up with him. Did he feel it too? The intimacy? The low, heated, electric hum that flowed between us when we were close like that? I did. I felt it with every fiber of my being. The more we talked, it felt ten times more amplified than before. It was scary and exhilarating. I wanted to both embrace it and run from it. Dimitri must have felt it too because he suddenly seemed as far away as I did.

Dimitri

It happened in an instant. One moment we were laughing and joking around. The next, as soon as I opened my eyes and saw her owlish one's staring back at me, how closely we were laying, I felt it. The change. As though the closeness had taken root the moment we started conversing beyond casual flirting, it grew into something bigger as we slept. I started it, how easy and comfortable it was to hold her close, tickling her as though she was mine and it was something we did all the time. That's what it felt like. The air between us feel easy.

I don't know what I was thinking when I'd settled us on the couch before. Had I just wanted physical closeness after two years keeping myself at bay, surrounded by strangers, sick patients and other doctors, unable to hold or touch anyone? Maybe. It sounded like a good idea at the time. It felt good too.

We were both maneuvering through our own problems, skirting around our individual reasons we were in a bar last night, why we drink and embrace our vices in general, but there was something there, something heated, tangible, so close to being something that could be real and genuine that I could almost touch it. I didn't. I held back. I resisted. For both our sakes. I could barely keep my own life together. I ran from my problems. I didn't face them. I had two years abroad to show for that. It was clear to me that Rose was running, or at the very least, hiding from a few problems of her own. We'd be a recipe for disaster. I liked her nonetheless. I could admit that much. I liked her. Which is why I didn't want to hurt her. So I pulled back. I pulled away.

I could read it on her face, on her large expressive doe eyes, in the way she set her mouth into a tight line, in how she stiffened when I moved to settled us back against the couch again, sitting up. She knew what I was doing and she was doing the same. We were playing it safe. We had to.

"I'd kill for a cigarette," she said suddenly, breaking the silence. She ran a hurried hand through her hair, tangling it even more so. I was surprised how much I wanted to reach out and tame it for her. I distracted myself, keeping my hands busy as I stood up to take the coffee mug to the kitchen.

"You smoke?" I hadn't smelt the distinct scent of nicotine at all and I'd been physically closer to her as any human could be to another.

"Trying to quit," I heard her answer. Her voice sounded faraway even though I had returned to the living room where she was now standing, messily folding the blankets into a sloppy pile on the couch. She couldn't stand still, fidgeting and never letting her gaze linger on me for too long. "Sorry," she apologized when I didn't say anything. "Should I have said that? I mean, I know it's your position as a doctor to warn me against the hazards of smoking?"

"I'm off duty," I shrugged. Besides I used to smoke when I was a teenager. I couldn't help adding a warning though, despite my proclamation of being off the clock. "But it is unhealthy."

She smiled but it was tight and didn't reach her eyes. Things had certainly changed. We got too close and now there was no going back.

"I should probably get going then," she hedged, indicating towards the front door. "Once I get a hankering for a smoke, it doesn't really go away. I wanted one last night but I ended up at the bar instead," she rambled around a nervous laugh. "And then I met you and well...here we are."

Yes. Here we are.

"I'll um...I'll drive you..." I started to offer, my words trailing off. Should I drive her home? Is that weird? I've never had to worry about my partner for the night getting home because they either left before I work up or I did the same, making a quiet escape without having to think twice about it and without looking back.

She let out another inhibited laugh. "Uh...no it's okay."

"Rose, we're at least a couple of miles from the nearest public transport. I'll drive you home."

She shook her head as she back her way toward the bedroom. "No really, it's okay. I can call for a ride. My car is back at the bar actually."

"Rose," I stepped forward, to reach out to her? To convince her to let me do this? I had to do something. I couldn't let it end this...awkwardly. Whatever reason it was, it didn't matter. She stepped back.

"Really it's fine, Dimitri," she dismissed, folding her arms one over another. "I can take care of myself."

She closed the door to the bedroom, presumably to get dressed, before I could think of anything to say. I straightened up the blankets she folded, tossing everything including some of my travel clothes in the wash. I listened as the bedroom door opened and the soft slap of her steps against the hardwood floor. I had pulled on a t-shirt and shoes in case she changed her mind about me driving her. The stubborn set of her jaw and the diluted fierceness in her eyes told me that wouldn't be the case. She pulled her coat on over the dress she'd been wearing the night before and swept her hair up into a ponytail before sliding her heels on. She could barely hold her gaze on me.

"So um...thanks...for...you know," she squirmed from her spot by the door. "It was fun."

It didn't seem like enough. There should have been something else to say. Nothing awkward. Just something appropriate.

"Yeah um...me too. Thanks."

She teetered, rocking back and forth on her heels for a second. "So yeah."

"You can wait inside for your ride," I told her as she opened the front door. "Or you can just let me drive you."

She stepped out onto the porch as there was a ping from her purse. She pulled her phone out and glanced at the screen. "It's cool. This is my ride. Luckily there was a Lyft nearby. Thanks any way though."

I nodded as she turned starting to walk off the porch before she stopped, turning to face me. She stepped closer than I thought she'd ever be to me again. She smelled like me, the smell of my aftershave and just me lingering on her skin along with the remnants of whatever perfume she'd been wearing. Her makeup was touched up, probably from whatever she carried in her purse, but I could see the tiredness in her eyes. The scratch to her cheek from the night before was covered up, barely noticeable if you didn't know it was there. She truly is beautiful, but there's a shadow there, darkness inside her eyes. I recognized it, similar to mine. Pain and unhappiness eating away at her from the inside out. I wondered if she could see the same when she looked at me.

"Take care of yourself, Dimitri."

She raised up on her toes, cupping her hand to my cheek as she pressed a feather light kiss to my cheek. She started to pull away and I couldn't help it. I leaned down and kissed her lips. It was barely there, her mouth ghosting over my own, her eyelashes fluttering along my cheek. She pulled back enough to look me in the eyes one last time. We stood there a little less awkward than before, and quiet, the certainty that our temporary escape from reality had come to an end hanging heavy in the air.

A/N: Y'all are awesome! I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story and its changes. I feel like the sudden rift between our lovebirds is anticlimactic but it's just the beginning. New post should be up soon!