AN: Hi Guys! I'm sorry this chapter took a little longer than usual, but it's here now and that's what's important, right? I hope you like it, enjoy!

Oh, and thanks to my awesome BETA!

Little lies

Chapter 3.

All Characters belong to Richelle Mead; I own nothing except my imagination

Rose. Weren't roses supposed to be sweet and lovely and whatnot?

After English class I decided to ditch the rest of my classes. I swiftly walked through the maze of corridors that formed the main building. I crossed the courtyard and made my way to the chapel. It wasn't that I was religious or anything; I just liked the emptiness of the chapel. There was a certain sensation of peacefulness that filled me whenever I walked through the heavy mahogany doors and stepped into the dimmed space. I walked up the stairs to the attic. There was no light streaming in through the colorful glass window, but I could see a warm glow, perhaps from a candle, inviting me in.

The familiar creaking of the old floorboards made me feel at home. I dropped my bag on the floor and the warm hue that had illuminated the room disappeared. I instantly tried to get my eyes used to the sudden darkness. I snapped my fingers together and willed a small flame to appear above my palm. The flame was warm and it cast light, but it didn't burn me. I looked around the room. The piles of boxes and old books cast dark shadows across the floor and walls; they seemed to dance around as I walked across the room to the window, holding the flame high in front of me.

"Christian?" I heard a familiar voice ask.

I quickly turned around and saw Vasilisa Dragomir sitting on a box in the corner. She sounded like she had a flu, except that Moroi didn't get sick.

"Vasilisa, what are you doing here?" I asked, not knowing what to say.

"I could ask you the same," she replied and gave me a meek smile.

I sat down in front of her on the floor. Even in the fire light I could see that her nose looked red and her eyes a bit swollen. It looked like she had been crying. I didn't know what to do with crying girls. I was supposed to try and comfort them, right?

"I'm skipping class," I said and grinned at her. She let out a laugh and wiped her sleeve across her eyes. She was wearing a blue sweater under her school uniform. I could see something dark staining the sleeve, but she quickly tucked her hands neatly on her lap.

"So honest," she sighed. "I guess there's no use lying; I'm skipping class as well."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I just don't see you as the kind of girl who skips classes. Honestly, if you enjoy Slavic art you should be able to make it through any class they put you in."

"Just because I can make it through the class doesn't mean I want to," she said and looked down at her hands. She rubbed the together.

"Are you cold?" I asked.

"No, not really," she said.

I lit the candle that was on a box next to her and willed the flame of my creation to fade away.

"You're a fire user then," she stated. "I guess that makes sense."

"How on earth does that make any sense?" I asked feeling a bit amused.

"It fits your personality," she said and flipped her hair back.

"I'll take that as a compliment," I said and shook my head.

We sat there in silence for a while. Her green eyes stuck out in the darkish room like a cat's would. They were the Dragomir trade mark. My eyes kept wondering back to them and the clear tear stains on her cheeks. I wanted to know what had made her cry. I mean, yes, she had a lot of reasons to cry, that I'll admit, but she to me she hadn't seemed like the kind of girl who cried alone in the dark.

"This is a nice and quiet place," she said and turned to look at the tall glass mosaic window.

"I know, this is my nice and quiet place," I said, laughing a bit. I didn't want her thinking she wasn't wanted here.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. This just seemed like a good place to come and think." She dropped herself of the box and sat on the floor. "My parents used to take me to church; I always loved to explore them. The attics usually have interesting books and stuff, so I thought I'd come and see if I could find any here."

"Well there are enough books here to…well, I don't exactly know what you could do with these books but, the point is that there are a hell of a lot of them here."

"Yeah, I noticed."

"So Vasilisa," I began.

"Please, call me Lissa," she corrected me before I could continue.

"Alright, Lissa, I was just thinking, now that we are here we might as well do something productive," I said.

"What exactly would you consider productive?" She asked me with a shy smile taking over her features.

"Well…" I sighed. "I need to come up with a topic for my Slavic art project by tomorrow. Since you're the expert I was thinking you could help me."

"Help you or come up with the topic and the write your essay?"

"Only help me!" I exclaimed. "God, what do you take me for?" I asked with a fake shocked look on my face. "Do you think I'm some kind of reckless rebel who skips classes and gets sent to headmistress Kirova's office at least once a week?"

She laughed. She really laughed and it sounded delightful. She smiled at me. "Mr. Ozera, now I would never ever suggest that!" She exclaimed, sounding taken aback. Of course her face told me she was just playing along.

"Very well then, now that that's settled, how bout we talk some Slavic art?"

"I would love to," she said and leaned in to grab her bag. "I actually made some notes last night, since I did already promise to help you."

I stared at her in disbelief for a while. "You actually made notes last night, for my essay?"

"Well yeah, I was reading and I came across this interesting chapter about Slavic artists and their art that was influenced by folklore and things like that. I thought you might be interested in that kind of thing."

"What kind of books do you read?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"I like reading well…school books."

I gave her a surprised look. She looked away and blushed. "I know, it's weird, I just don't understand why people would read fiction when they could read about real things."

"That's ridiculous," I said, sounding a bit too defensive to my own liking. "The whole point of reading fiction is to escape into a different world. To enter someone else's mind. It's fascinating."

"Well, I think learning is fascinating. And besides, I've read a few fictional books, I just didn't enjoy them," Lissa said and bit her lip.

"Well you can't judge an entire genre based on a few books!" I exclaimed. She was really getting me worked up. What was it with people today?

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you," she said and wore an apologetic look.

I took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. "I just… I don't know, let's not talk about it. I want to hear more about the folklore thing," I said trying to change the subject. We were dancing on a very fine line between casual conversation and me pouring my heart out to a girl I'd just me yesterday.

"Somehow I find that hard to believe, but if you insist." She pulled out a thick book from her bag and opened it up from a page she seemed to have had memorized beforehand.

I looked at the book and swallowed loudly and forced a smile. "I insist."

As Lissa and I walked across the courtyard to the cafeteria, I could feel people staring at us.

"They've been doing that even since we got back," Lissa said and shook her head.

"They've been doing that ever since I came to this school," I said.

"You win," she said and gave me a warm smile.

"Well, I wouldn't say so. You actually managed to ditch this place. That's pretty impressive."

"I can't take credit for that," she said and smiled, like she remembered a fond memory. "I couldn't have done it without Rose."

The name hit me like a bullet; Small but painful. I remembered why I had skipped my classes in the first place.

"Did I say something wrong?" Lissa asked, looking worried.

"Um…well no, not really," I said. "This Rose, she didn't happen to have English today?"

"Yes, she did," Lissa said and frowned. "It worries me that you know that."

"How so?"

"Well, I love Rose, but she tends to make her opinions very clear and she is very…blunt. That doesn't always go down well with people." She laughed nervously and raked her hand through her long light hair.

"Oh I think we're talking about the same Rose," I said rolling my eyes dramatically.

"Oh no," Lissa sighed. "What did she do? It's only our second day here."

Earlier I had been so mad at Rose for asking stupid questions, but as I saw Lissa worry about the dark eyed Dhampir, I felt my rage slowly dissipate. "Don't worry, its fine."

"Are you sure?" Lissa asked her green eyes filled with actual concern.

"To be honest I was angry at her, but she did give me some insider's tips on Hershey's and Kit-Kats so I guess I could let her nosy nature go."

Lissa looked at me curiously and the waved the subject away. "That sure sounds like Rose. But honestly you shouldn't take anything she says personally. She doesn't really have a filter between her brain and her mouth. She just says what she thinks."

"So do I, usually," I said.

"Do you want to get some dinner with me?" Lissa asked. She looked friendly and open, but Mark's words floated through my head and reminded me that even though Lissa seemed to be open minded and accepting the other royals most likely wouldn't be so friendly.

"I…You know I already have some plans for dinner." I looked down at the grass that was a bit frozen and crunched under out steps.

"Oh," she said actually sounding disappointed. "Perhaps another time?"

"Yeah, definitely," I said. "I…have to go."

"Alright," Lissa said a small smile playing on her lips.

I walked away, not looking back. I was afraid I might change my mind and accept her dinner invitation out of sheer curiosity. Or was it out of curiosity? It had been a long time since I had actually enjoyed spending time with someone other than Sarah and Mark that I felt like every breath I took around Vasilisa Dragomir was magical. I didn't feel like I was constantly gasping for air, but just suffocating. I didn't have to struggle to feel like I belonged. I just was, and that scared me. I didn't generally like people, minus the few exceptions. I was reserved for a reason. If you didn't let people in, they couldn't break you. I didn't need someone to break me again.

I passed by my room and left my bag there. After that I made my way to the cafeteria. I waited in to get to the feeders. The line seemed to be moving painfully slow, but at last I was beckoned to a room with a feeder in it. She was a middle aged woman named May. I knew all the feeders by name. They were giving me their blood, the least I could do was to remember their name.

"Hey, May," I said cheerfully. She was seated in a soft armchair. She looked beyond happy. I reckoned she had been here for a while. The endorphins induced by all the Moroi bites seemed to be working their magic.

"Christian," she said and gave me a lazy smile. I really did like May. She was one of the clear headed feeders. I didn't exactly know how she had ended up here, except that it had been her own choice, but I did know that she came from New York and she in her clearer moments she told me about her life there. I knew bits and pieces. I was happy with anything she wanted to share with me. Today unfortunately didn't seem to be one of her clear days. She beckoned me to her and gave me a pleading look. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes, I haven't had blood in two days," I said.

This seemed to make her insanely happy. She smiled brightly and traced her index finger along her neck. "Would you, please?"

I shook my head and took her hand. I brushed my thumb across her wrist. I felt her veins pulsating with blood under her fair skin. I brought her wrist to my mouth and bit into it. The rush of blood instantly brought my body alive. There was a difference between food and blood. Food gave you energy and blood kept you alive. As I released May's hand I saw her face, it was a poster of bliss. I neatly placed her hand back on her lap and thanked her. I walked out of the room leaving her to her world of nothingness.

After the blood I didn't bother with actual food. I slipped into my room and started working on my Slavic art essay. Maybe if I had already started it Mrs. Reed would be keener to let me go with my topic. The book Lissa had lent me went a long way. I didn't even have to use Wikipedia. The way she had explained things had actually made me interested in the subject. I didn't know how she did it, but she had actually made me not hate Slavic art, which in my opinion was a miracle. After I figured I'd done enough work for one night I started going through the pages of Lissa's book. To my shock some of the things in it were actually pretty interesting. I looked through paintings and read some interesting facts. Who knew, maybe I'd need interesting facts about Slavic art one day.

I once again ended up falling asleep with a book in my bed. It was becoming a habit I should probably get rid of.

AN: So what do you think? I really enjoy writing Lissa and Christian together. They're just too adorable. If you would take the time to leave a review, I would very much apprechiate it! Can't wait to hear what you think!

Love Always, Alexandra