Drabble:74
POV:Third Person
Dimitri Belikov was a man that Janine Hathaway liked, even admired, for many reasons….his competency and level-headedness being the prime. He was always in control of his emotions and he never rushed to action, no matter how violently he might feel about things. He also never spoke in an overly loud voice or made a scene. So, yes she liked his level-headedness…
But sitting here, outside the operating room, she couldn't admire it. Rose had been shot, by Tasha Ozera of all people, and then directly rushed to the OR for surgeries. She was inside, battling for her life, hanging on by a tenuous thread, and here-outside-her friends were freaking out. Vasilisa Dragomir had come in, already hysterical, and had screamed at the doctors for a good hour to be allowed to help Rose, before being led away sobbing by her ashen-faced boyfriend, who looked like the ground had slipped from right under his feet. Adrian Ivashkov had shown up too, smelling like strong whiskey and cigarette ash-frantic-but also wanting to help, but he too had been denied. Eddie Castile, Mia Rinaldi, Jill Mastrano, hell even Guardian Alberta Petrov had shown up, along with a half dozen court guardian, all frantic for any news or updates, but had left to help with the commotion reigning at Court. All of them had squeezed Janine's shoulder or patted Ibrahim's back before leaving, offering some sort of comfort. And Ibrahim…
Poor Ibrahim. That man had only recently met his daughter….his sole heir, and had only begun to settle in his role as father…only to have this happen. He clearly loved her; you could see the pain and anger, in his eyes, clear as day. One thing was clear, that Tasha Ozera was a dead woman, whether sentenced or not. Ibrahim would see to that. He was taking turns pacing the hospital hallways, growling at the medical staff or just sitting with his head buried in his hands, shoulders hunched. Janine was no better, she'd cried more in the last hours than she had in the last 10 years. She was so mad she wanted to murder Natasha Ozera with her bare hands, she was also sad that she'd wasted so many years keeping her distance from her only daughter…and now, now it might be too late….to make amends..
And then, there was Belikov. Calm. Cool. Collected. He'd been sitting in a metal chair, looking steadfast at the closed door of the OR ever since Rose had been wheeled in. He hadn't moved one inch in the last several hours, neither had he shown any reaction to the queries or condolences offered by the visitors, just kept on staring at the damned doors, his face wiped of emotions. His shirt was drenched with Rose's blood and his hands were clenched into fists, but he made not one sound, nor looked away once from the doors. Janine wanted to shout at him, to know how he could remain so nonchalant or why he was putting on a front while his self-proclaimed love-of-his-life was fighting tooth and nail to survive, but she didn't. And after she caught sight of his eyes, she couldn't.
Ice. That's what his eyes were like. Frozen, numbing ice…..barren, hopeless. He wasn't putting on a front, he really was projecting his hopelessness, his desolation…..Janine knew for sure that if Rose didn't survive, neither would Dimitri….he had no life without her. He couldn't bear to live without her, he was hardly breathing without her now. And his pain….just the sight of his dead eyes was enough to cause Janine's sorrow to escalate.
If the world lost Rose Hathaway today, it would also lose Dimitri Belikov's soul. He might go on living, if only to protect her charge, but he would be dead inside forevermore. So Janine let him be, all alone with his pain, his singular focus on the OR doors unwavering, as if somehow that (and his love and devotion) could keep Rose with them. So, Janine let him be. And she knew she'd never admired him more.
Thanks for reading. Don't forget to update. Cheers!