Drabble:83
POV:Third Person

After the lunch-debacle, Dimitri stood guard for just one of Rose's class, the entire duration of which was spent by him staring single-mindedly at her back and her trying unsuccessfully to pay undivided-attention to the lecturer. She'd met his eyes exactly once, but that had been enough. Others might have dismissed his expression as his guardian mask, but Rose-unfortunately-knew better. His expression was scary with intensity, seething with barely restrained anger, undoubtedly caused by Adrian's stunt.

Rose couldn't help but damn said moroi to the ninth circle of Hell as she-warily-made her way over to the gym for her afternoon session, unwilling for once to be the focus of Dimitri's singular attention cough*wrath*cough. But she couldn't help but remember the possessive look that had crossed his features for a millisecond in the cafeteria and her stomach flipped pleasantly even though her heartbeat sped up in anticipation of her one-on-one-time with him.

Entering the gym, she found it empty, so she made her way towards one of the supply closets which she knew was one of Dimitri's favorite haunts. Peeking into the room, she was greeted with the sight of his folded duster and one of his battered Westerns, but there was no sign of the man himself. Sighing, she ventured into the room and not a second later, the door was slammed closed. And there he stood-all tall and gorgeous-arms folded across his chest, looking the very picture of relaxed except for the very pissed-off look on his face.

"You're late", he pronounced, absolutely no inflection in his voice and she gulped loudly, mentally letting loose a string-of-curses that would do a sailor proud. She knew better than to lie or make excuses, but somehow she didn't think you-see-you're-all-pissed-off-and-I-was-just-tryin g-to-steer-clear-of-it would fly well with him.

"What's your excuse this time, Roza?", he asked quietly, stalking towards her. "Were you with the Ivashkov boy? Were you having fun with him?"

Mustering all her courage, she tilted her head to meet his eyes. "He's not the one I want, Dimitri. He's not the one I l-", she trailed off, not trusting her voice and looked away.

"You what, Roza? Won't you tell me?", he asked softly. Meeting his eyes, she found nothing but tenderness and longing there, mixed with wistfulness. She stepped forward, feeling irrepressibly bold, and wrapped her arms around his body. He sighed, but embraced her too. "I won't lie, Roza. The thought of another man touching you makes me sick. And this afternoon, you were…"

"For you, Dimitri. I saw the look in your eyes", she mumbled against his chest. "I loved it."

He chuckled, pulling away but looked at her with amusement. Then, without warning, he leaned down to brush his lips against her ears and whispered, "Run."

"What?", she asked him, dazed. He smirked knowingly, but slipped into hunter-mode.

"Run, Roza!".

And run she did, like a bat out of hell, yanking the door open and sprinting out. He caught up to her at the mats, and an impromptu spar ensued, which ended by him tackling her to the ground. Straddling her, he leaned down to kiss her deeply. Their lips came together again and again and their breathing grew erratic. When Rose started gasping, Dimitri moved down, trailing kisses down her neck, stopping at the base before looking up and meeting her eyes, his intentions clear as day. She nodded mutely, watching as he tugged down the collar of her T-shirt and pressed a kiss against her collar bone before not-so-gently biting down on it. Unable to help herself, Rose let out a high-pitched scream and fisted his hair as he soothed the bruise with the softest kisses. He then climbed up her body and kissed her again, stopping only to sit up once she'd had her fill. He kissed her forehead then as she traced his jawline, both trying to catch their breath. "You're also the one I…..", he trailed off, but she understood. She always did.

He brushed hair off her cheek and bestowed one last searing kiss upon her (caressing her first-ever-hickey as he did) before standing up and walking away, wearing a smug self-satisfied smirk on his face.

Here's the promised Romitri scene from drabble 81. So, what do you think? Good? Bad? Let me know! Cheers!