"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." - Ernest Hemingway

Silence.

It's all I hear as I stare out the second-story window of Julius' room, which has become my sanctuary these days. I look down at the pathways, waiting for Adrian to appear out of nowhere, hoping he'll show up to tell me everything's all right, even though I probably hurt his feelings.

The silence is broken when Julius starts to snore. I stand from the chair and walk over to him. He's tossed over on his stomach, one hand dangling off the bed. I nudge it with the toe of my boot.

"Hey," I say. I brush my hand against his forehead. He's no longer feverish, no longer sweating. I believe by now he's returned to normal. "Wake up, Julius."

A grunt is his only reply, and he rolls over in bed, throwing a pillow atop his head. I'm tempted to rip the sheets off him, but instead, I mutter, "I'm taking a shower" and leave him to his own devices for now.

No more babysitting.

I find the guest bath attached to the room Julius is sleeping in, which is just as grand as the rest of the house, and turn the nozzle so lukewarm water pours from the faucet. I strip of my dirty clothes and climb into the shower, shivering when the cold water hits my bare back.

I take the time to think back on all that has happened lately. I leave with the rest of the family for home the day after tomorrow. Until then, I can either face my demons or hide like a little kid in Julius' room. I'm leaning toward the latter for now, but I know eventually I'll have to deal with my problems. Dimitri, Lissa, Adrian. And myself.

Once the water turns freezing, I turn off the shower and wrap myself in a towel. I realize how stupid I was to take a shower here. My clothes are dirty and I don't have clean ones to change into. Dirty underwear, no thank you.

I pace the length of the bathroom, which is pretty long, using another towel to dry my hair, and letting water drip on the tiled floor.

When a knock sounds at the door, I tense. I'm silently pleading in my mind, hoping it's not Vivian or Wren. God, I don't think I could stand another confrontation with Wren.

Another light tap at the door sends me rushing to open it. But before I can, the door swings open and Julius steps inside. He stretches his arms above his head, yawns, and when he opens them, he freezes mid step.

His body is tense, and he stares glassy-eyed at me, his eyes roving my body, from my face to my feet, then back again. There's something in his eyes I cannot discern, but it causes chills down my spine.

I'm frozen, too. Yeah, this has happened before, but this is different. I can't move because his gaze is too piercing, because there's something that doesn't feel right here, feels different, changed. I swallow back a lump in my throat.

"I-" Julius tries to speak, but the words get lost in the air between us.

And then he takes a step toward me, but at that precise moment, there's a knock on the bathroom door. It's like there was some taunt string between and someone just cut it with scissors, because Julius closes his eyes, breathes deeply, and sets the clothes on the country.

"I'll get it," he says. "Just. . . stay here, yeah?"

I don't have the time to reply before he disappears back into the bedroom. In three quick strides, I rush to the door and close it. I lean against it heavily, like I need the support, my legs trembling. I stare at myself in the mirror, and I can't help but admit that I'm a little bit afraid.

I hear hushed whispers through the door, Julius arguing with someone, but who, I don't know. I close my eyes, hoping whoever it is doesn't know I'm in here. No one can get the wrong idea, because nothing happened. Nothing will ever happen.

A few minutes pass by and the whispering/arguing finally stops. Another minute or so and a light tap on the door.

"Rose?" Julius' voice penetrates through the door, and my heart skips a beat.

I open the door just a slit, and look through it.

"Hey," he says, giving me a shy, lopsided smile.

"This was stupid," I say. "I shouldn't have taken a shower or anything."

Julius shakes his head. "No, it's cool. If you want, you can wear some of my clothes while I put yours in the washer."

I glance behind my shoulder at the pile of clothes, then back at Julius. "Yeah, sure, that'll work."

I shut the door and gather my clothes, making sure to stuff my underwear deep into one of the legs of my pants. Then I hand them to Julius, and when I'm sure he's gone, I change into the clothes he left on the sink. A black T-shirt too big for me and some boxers. I also fit on my sweater over the T-shirt. I try not to think about it when I exit, but Julius is sitting on the bed. Surprisingly, the bed is made up, and any signs of me and him living here for the past day is gone.

"You look nice in my clothes," he notices, tilting his head to the side.

"Shut up," I snap. I'm so uncomfortable but I really have no idea what else to do.

Julius raises his hands in the air like a surrender. "Just saying."

"Where's my clothes?"

"In the washer, where they should be."

I narrow my eyes and say, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Your clothes were filthy is what it's supposed to mean."

"Oh."

"So what happened?" he asks.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"With me," he explains.

"Sorry," I murmur. "I should go." I turn to leave, still wiping at my eyes furiously, hoping against hope that Julius didn't see my tears.

"Rose." This time my name isn't a question, more like a statement, and I turn my head to face him.

"Yeah?"

One of his arms rise and he motions for me to come sit. I don't know why, I don't even want to, but my feet start working before my mind does, and I make my way toward the bed. I sit down beside Julius, the bed conforming from my weight, and his arm wraps around me. I lean my head into the crook under his arm and stay there, relieved that there's comfort somewhere.

"What's going on?" he asks in a concerned voice that makes me want to burst into tears all over again. There are so many voices in my head: Dimitri telling me he wants to come back, Wren making threats, Adrian's voice as he tells me about another Strigoi attack, one so gruesome and ugly that I can't even bring it to mind without wanting to throw up. Most of all, Vivian's voice is the one that shines out among all the rest. Now is the time to settle what you left behind.

I'm tempted to say what all those voices are telling me to say, but all that comes out is "I'm a horrible guardian."

"No," Julius says, his hand rubbing my arm, his fingers taking the fabric of my shirt between them and rubbing it until I feel the pinch of static on my sweater. "You're not."

I sigh and say, "You have to say that to make me feel better."

"What do you want me to say?" he asks. I feel his breaths in my hair, a tickling sensation against my scalp.

I lean away from him, his arm sliding down and reaching for my hand. Our fingers intertwine and he squeezes tightly, like almost telling me without words that I'm going to be okay, that he's giving me reassurance for all my faults.

"I need you to say the truth," I say, feeling sweat form between our hands. It's hot in here, but I barely notice as I regret the words as I say them. Who knows what truth he holds in his mind.

"Okay," he whispers, rocking back and forth on the bed. Any signs of the Spirit darkness is gone, but I can see the lines of exschaustion in his face, the bags below his eyes. Tired and drained but still helping me with my problems. "You're a horrible guardian," he says. "You're so horrible that people use you for a game of charades."

I laugh lightly, shoving him with my free hand, but his other only grasps mine tighter, and I can't help but smile.

"Your turn," he says. My eyes go wide as he stares at me expectantly. I shake my head and he frowns before releasing my hand and crossing his arms, acting like a stubborn brat of a child and I find myself smiling. I roll my eyes, caving in.

"Okay," I say. I stare at him and narrow my eyes, wondering what the truth is, what I can tell him that is truthful but also doesn't give too much of my life away. I bite my bottom lip, chewing away at the raw skin there and think that if we were to kiss at this very moment, our first kiss would taste like blood. That might not be so bad for Julius.

I stare at him longer, transfixed as I study his face. His dark hair is unkempt, it needs to be cut in several places. It hangs down like a rag doll and I have the urge to brush it aside to see his eyes clearly, his dark long lashes that only guys like him have. "Okay," I say again, realizing what the truth is. "I don't think we should be together."

I blurt it out, almost too fast and too full of emotion, but I watch as Julius processes this, his eyes going wide, his pupils dilated in the darkness of his room. "What?" he says just as he lets out a breath. I gulp back the rock that's blocking my throat and I try not to let out a cry.

"I think our relationship should be strictly professional," I manage to get out. I start to understand what Dimitri meant what he told me that one time. I clasp my hands together and stay silent as Julius continues to process this information.

"Why?" he asks, his voice hard and chilly. A shiver runs up my spine and I try to swallow around the obstacle in my throat.

I take a shaky breath, remembering what Dimitri told me a long time ago. I find the words mentally, in the back of my head, and at first I'm afraid to say them, like Julius will know they aren't really my words, but I tell him anyway, letting it all out at once.

"If it comes down to you and Alexis and a Strigoi, I know you would want me to save Alexis," I say, bringing Adrian's jacket closer around me. I forgot I even had it on, but now I sniff in the scent of clove cigarettes and Adrian's shampoo. "I wouldn't throw myself in front of her, I'd throw myself in front of you."

It makes so much sense to me now, the way Dimitri must have felt when he told me the same words. It rings true in my mind and I feel as if I'm plagarizing an essay that Dimitri wrote for my eyes only.

Julius' eyes cast downward and he gulps, his hand clenching the sheets, balling it in a fist. I start to think he's going to explode again, like he did with the darkness, but after maybe a minute or two or uncomfortable, tense silence, his fist releases the sheets and his hands relax. He glances at me sideways before downing his eyes again, facing the floor.

"I don't think you understand what's happening to you," I say, grabbing his hand and rubbing it between my own to keep them warm.

Julius scoffs. "Yeah, I do. I'm a monster."

"You're not a monster," I say.

"Yes I am." Julius leans back, pushing his hair out of his face. "I'm a monster, Rosemarie. You might not see it, but I can feel it inside of me."

"Which is why you need help," I tell him. I reach out for him, but he just brushes away my hand. I know I can't take back my words about keeping our relationship professional, but that doesn't mean I can't be a good friend in the meantime.

"Doctors won't help," he says. "No one can."

"I know people who can."

Julius' head snaps up and he stares at me. "What?" There are a million questions in his eyes, and I know once I say it I can't take it back.

"There are other Spirit-users," I explain. "They'll understand what's going on with you better than I ever could." Which is a sort of a lie, considering I'm connected to Lissa and I feel the same side-effects of being a Spirit-user just as Adrian and Julius do.

There's a ringing through the house, and Julius stands up. "I think that's the washing machine. Your clothes are ready."

I stand up, wrapping my arms tighter around myself, and reach my hand down, urging Julius to take it. He looks up and I see the question in his eyes.

"Come on," I say, nudging my head in the direction of the door. "I need my clothes first, but I have someone I want you to meet."