Drabble:84
POV:Third Person
It was almost a month after Rose and Lissa had been brought back to the academy, and Rose's training sessions with Dimitri were going extremely well. Dimitri was quite impressed with the talented dhampir, with how easily she had taken to the regular training and conditioning, already beginning to catch up to her peers. But most of all, Dimitri was impressed with her ability to absorb details, to learn new moves and execute them flawlessly within a few tries, and looking both deadly graceful and beautifully powerful while doing so. And all this she accredited to her one-on-one sessions with him (and most of her other trainers and classmates, whom she pissed off on a regular basis with her sassiness and antics, also agreed), but Dimitri insisted it was all her.
Still, seeing all her accomplishments in the short while, Dimitri couldn't help but feel a little bit proud of himself, for helping her break through, and get started on the way of becoming one of the most lethal dancers of death that Dimitri was sure she'd be in no time. He also wondered why he'd never agreed to train anyone before. I mean, obviously, during his own final year at his academy he'd helped train some younger novices, even helped Galina guide a few classes, but nothing more. After graduation, Galina had asked him to stay back and train at the academy but Dimitri had declined, deciding instead to follow his best friend Ivan around the world. After Ivan, when he'd come to St, Vladimir's, he'd been offered the position of a trainer, but again, he'd refused.
He really didn't know why he'd agreed to become Rose's mentor, except that he'd felt this compulsive urge in every fiber of his being when he'd been asked (and she'd fascinated him from the go with her 'I'm-her-guardian' comment). So he said yes, and he'd never been gladder. Because not only had he been allotted a remarkable pupil, he'd also gotten a friend in the bargain. A sarcastic, funny friend whose name spelt trouble.
Friend old boy, friend, Dimitri told himself, nodding along as said 'friend' complained about the spaghetti she'd had for lunch. He'd closed himself off from people after Ivan passed away, not wanting to get emotionally attached to somebody only to lose them and suffer from heartache and pain. But Rose had slithered her way into his heart and he'd come to lov-no, admire her immensely. Admire and appreciate. Respect even. He'd shared details of his past with her and she'd told him her hopes and aspirations. But that's what friends did, right? And he should become friends with her, seeing how after graduation she'd become his co-guardian for Lissa. Friends. That's all. That's all it would ever be, he decided firmly, quashing anything and everything in his mind that even dared to suggest anything otherwise.
And so to clear his head and ensure that Rose was actually running around the track instead of looking at a butterfly or something (like yesterday) he told Rose he'd be running with her today (a first, it should be pointed out, but friends ran together, didn't they?). Ignoring her look of surprise and happiness- wait, happiness?- he stretched and made it out to the tracks, closely followed by his protégé, thinking that he was gonna be okay. He was a master of control, he could do this. Rose Hathaway had somehow become his friend, against all odds, and she could count on him.
I'm sorry for the late update, but my internet is acting funky. But thanks for reading and don't forget to review! Cheers!