I wait not-so-patiently as Olena cuts throught my cast. I can hear the cracking of plaster, feel the tugging on my arm, but I stay still, completely obidiant.

"Okay, Roza. We're done."

I jump off of the couch, cheering. To my dismay, my wrist movement is extremely limited. I swing it around, but seems to only move up and down.

Seeing my depressed expression, Dimitri, who sits on the couch across from me, book in hand, looks up. "Rose? What's wrong?"

I groan and flop down on the sofa. "My wrist. I can barely move it."

He slides forth, perching on the edge of the cushion, and takes my hand in his, wiggling it around.

"Does it hurt?" He asks, moving his grip to hold me in a firm handshake.

I shake my head. "No."

He doesn't seem to hear me, but continues to examine my wrist. "Rose, we might be able to work some movement into your wrist. It'll take a lot of work..."

I jump up. "You'll help me train?"

He pauses, but slowly nods. I feel a thick smile fall onto my lips. Before I can register my movements, I jump on him, holding him in a tight embrace.

"Thank you! So much!"

He stays stiff and rigid, but finally, finally, his shoulders soften ever-so-slightly, and he pats my forearm gently before stepping away.

"Start tomorrow?" he asks. I nod frantically, another smile crashing onto the shore of my lips.

"Roza, you need to sleep. If you start training tomorrow, I want you rested," Olena says firmly.

I nod, climbing the stairs, my newly freed arm swinging and bending at angles I hadn't felt in weeks.

Getting ready for bed was hardly a chore, and I was done within minutes.

But before I can slip into the cool sheets, his fist flies at my face. Stupidly, I duck, so instead of his fist hitting my side, it crunches into my shoulder, and I fly backwards.

"What the hell?" I cry out, wondering how I ended up sitting in the grass.

"Rose? Are you alright?" Dimitri asks, stooping down to kneel beside me. He is suddenly standing in his trackpants.

"Why did you punch me?" I ask, the volume of my voice rising.

"We were sparring!" he replies, horrified. His hair is tousled, and he leans over me, panting.

"What?" I squeak. "Two seconds ago I was getting into bed!"

Dimitri's eyes widen. "Rose, that's the last thing you remember?"

"Yes!" I yell loudly, too loudly.

His brow furrowed, and he pulls me to my feet and drags me into the house. The sun has risen in a matter of seconds, seemingly, the quiet house now filled with activity.

"Mama!" Dimitri calls. He then slurs off into flawless Russian, and Olena appears in the doorway.

She replies in Russian, and I am left to stand helplessly off to the side.

Dimitri glances at me, but his gaze drifts again.

"Sorry, Roza." Although his face is pained and concerned, I force myself to repress a smile.

He called me Roza.

"Rose, we'll wait until we get back to Court to start your training again. I'm not going to risk-"

"No!" I cry. "You can't! My wrist! If I don't start training now, I might not ever be able to use it again! Dimitri, please!"

He shakes his head. "No, Rose."

"You have to!" I beg desperately. "Please!"

"No, Rose."

I give a small, dry sob of anger. "This could ruin my life!"

"I won't stand for you getting hurt again!"

"Well, I never would have broken my arm in the first place if you hadn't hurt me! I wouldn't have even come to Russia if you hadn't told me that you hated me!"

Feeling overwhelmed by emotion, I rush up the stairs, needing an escape. I throw myself onto the bed and fight tears, clutching the pillow to my chest. A knock on the door is the only thing that raises my head.

"Please, go away."

But the door cracks open anyways. "Roza?"

I sniff loudly. "What, Viktoria?"

She sits at my bedside, and gently places her hand on my back. "Oh, Roza. I had no idea, I'm so sorry." I shake my head, burying my face into the pillow.

"Rose, if you're interested... Tomorrow night, my friends and I are going to a party. It's not going to be anything crazy, but I thought you'd like to come."

"I don't know..." I was rapidly pulling excuses, trying to come up with a polite way to get out of this.

"Come on, I won't take no for an answer. You'll get out of the house for a few hours! By the time we get back, everyone will be in bed! Please, Rose? Come with me?"

I raise my brows. "This wouldn't have anything to do with your mom telling you that you can't go alone?"

Viktoria blushes, and I laugh. "Alright, alright. I'll go."

...

Luckily, I had spent much of my time in nightclubs, and had several decent dresses to wear. Viktoria, this time, has a much more appropriate dress than the last time I saw her, and her eyes are no longer thick with makeup.

"You girls have fun!" Olena smiles from the livingroom. Dimitri just watches emotionlessly over the pages of a book, but quickly sets it down and stares at me.

"You're going too?"

I can hear the tension in his voice.

"Yes..."

Before he can open his mouth, Olena slips in. "Dimitri, she deserves a night out. It's just one party."

"What if she tries to run? What if she loses her memory? What if a boy tries to take advantage of her? What-"

I roll my eyes, but I feel some sympathy for his concern. "Dimitri, leave me alone. I'm fine. I'll be fine, alright? Goodnight, Olena."

We slip out of the door, our heels clicking against the concrete sidewalk. The cold air is biting at our bare legs, and from blocks away, I can hear the pounding music.

To my shock, when we enter the house, my vision is swept with muscular, grinding figures.

An all Dhampir party.

Couples pulse and grind, people not nearly as slutty as when I was at the mixed-species nightclub. Nikolai appears instantly, assisting Viktoria with her coat.

I stick by their side most of the night, my excitement over leaving the house fading once I realize what an outsider I really am. I turn down every offer to dance, just sitting off to the side.

Until I hear a voice behind me.

"Care to dance?" he asks. His hair is shaggy and dark, falling over his eyes in straight sheets. He's the absolue stereotypical tall, dark, and handsome.

I feel drawn to him. I follow him to the dance floor, and allow him to pull me dangerously close to him, letting him put his hands on my hips. I can't help but move closer and closer. His dark eyes shine, a flirtasious falling onto my lips.

But a sick realization sweeps over me. And what my memory sparks makes me sick to my stomach. I shove away from him, pushing my way through the crowd. Spotting Viktoria, I quickly locate her coat and pull her away from Nikolai, exiting the house.

"Rose? What the-"

"We need to leave. Olena told us to be back by midnight."

"We've still got twenty minutes!" Nausea fluctuates through me as I think of his face, his features, his eyes. And I'm absolutely sick.

I sigh. "But not by the time we walk home. She's been through enough, I don't want her worrying." I lie smoothly, flawlessly. It was true I hated to think of Olena worrying, but my intentions on leaving had nothing to do with it. It was the familiarity of the boy.

"I know my mom. She'll be in bed, she won't be up worrying about me."

Her point is only proven when we walk through the door, greeting a pitch black room. She shoots me a See? look and disappears up to her room.

And I follow.

...

I grab a glass from the cabinet, careful not to slam the door. It's in the ungodly hours of the morning, but after hours of tossing and turning, thinking about the boy at the party, I cannot sleep. I jerk the tap upwards.

I won't admit it to anyone, but that boy, the boy I had danced with, he was Dimitri.

At least to me.

In appearance, I was reminded of him, and I needed to feel close to him. Desperately.

It made me sick.

Suddenly, the lights blink on behind me. I spin, so surprised that I drop the overflowing glass of water.

But before it can crash to the ground and wake up the entire household, he catches it. Unfortunately, the cup is upside down, and it soaks the bottom of his pajama bottoms.

"Sorry!" I squeak, and fall to my knees, using a cloth to mop the water. He bends beside me, hovering dangerously close.

"It's alright."

He gently takes the cloth from my hands.

"Dimitri," I murmur. "I'm sorry. I know you were worried. And I didn't really ease your fears." Somehow, I feel that if I apologize, I would become closer to him.

"It's alright, Rose. I was irrational. I just... I didn't want to give you the opportunity to run. You had hours to just disappear, and it frightened me."

Woah. No way did Dimitri just open up to me like that. He was always so composed and serious, shielding me from all thoughts and emotions.

"You didn't need to worry," I inform him needlessly. He smiles.

"I'll always worry."

I felt a familiar dark feeling creep into my gut, but I repress it.

"I'm a big girl, Dimitri, I can take care of myself."

He rears back, looking at me with shock. "Obviously not," he says defensively.

I narrow my eyes threateningly. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, who knows where you would be if you hadn't been found. You couldn't even get a job here. Rose-"

"You have no right!" I hiss.

"Uncle Dimka?" Paul comes into the room, rubbing his eyes. "Roza?"

We exchange quick glances. "Why are you up at this hour, Paul?" Dimitri asks tentatively, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I heard voices," he murmurs sleepily in reply. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Paul," I lie. "Go back to bed."

He looks between us, sensing tension. I smile, an elastic, pasty smile, and nod, mussing his hair gently. I pat his back and lead him back to his room, pretending that I don't feel Dimitri's glare behind me.

Sorry it took so long! Please review