This one's for AbyssAddict and her lovely words! Cheers!
Drabble:160: Dimitri's day
(addendum to Drabble:159)
After the commemoration ceremony, Dimitri was feeling stifled. He couldn't feel, he couldn't stop feeling…
He was-as the speakers so eloquently put-a survivor of the massacre, but everyone seemed to gloss over the cost at which he'd survived. He'd lived through that terrible, tragic night, only to lose his soul the very next night…
He still remembered his last anguished thoughts, the vicious, biting pain and catching that last glance of his beautiful Roza crying out his name before his soul had been tarnished by the strigoi. He still remembered the cruel feedings of his strigoi days, and the coppery-alluring-smell of blood. He still remembered becoming his own worst nightmare, sick and depraved….and right now, he needed to take a breather.
Rose had left the ceremony as soon as she politely could, to go pay her respect to Mason. She'd looked pale and troubled, but she didn't want company…and Dimitri could respect that. Christian hadn't looked much better either, and neither had he wanted Dimitri to shadow him. So, Dimitri let them both go, knowing that they'd be safe within St Vlad's wards, especially now when security had been upgraded.
Dimitri hadn't left, though.
He'd stood beside Alberta, receiving the families of their fallen comrades, and passing on a good word or two about them. But he hadn't been able to take that for too long.
Art Schoenberg had once told Dimitri that he'd have to pick up smoking someday, if Dimitri's career flourished how he hoped it would. The younger Dimitri had refuted-vehemently-but now, he understood…he could see the appeal of taking up a vice-or two-to counter the burdens of the job.
Emil had noticed Dimitri's plight, and had excused him from the line of duty…and taken him drinking. Pure Russian, throat-burning, eye-watering vodka.
They hadn't spoken till they were halfway through the bottle, and then, they only opened their mouth to salute their now-deceased friends before downing another gulp of the fiery liquid.
When he'd had enough, Dimitri had patted Emil's shoulder and left his friend's room.
He tried relaxing in his room, but he couldn't manage to suppress the stifling feelings brewing inside of him. So, he went for a walk.
When Christian spotted him from the church's attic, he'd lit up a fireball in his hand to confirm that he was safe, so Dimitri nodded and moved on.
He walked along the periphery of the campus, then, nodding to each passing guardian. He supposed he should check on Roza, but he didn't feel up to facing her now, not when he was feeling like such a mess. So, he walked aimlessly-subconsciously-till he came across the cabin. That cabin…where he'd first proclaimed his love for Roza; where he'd made love to her, and promised her lifelong allegiance…the same promise that he'd broken the very next night.
He found himself in the cabin, clearing the settled dust and cobwebs, before flopping down on the bed. He laid there for a long time, just thinking of all that he'd gained and lost and coming to terms with the path his life had taken. He didn't necessarily believe in God's existence, but if he did, he'd hope that God was done dealing Dimitri his life's great tragedies. His father. Ivan. Losing his soul. Tasha's betrayal. Almost losing Roza…..how much more would he have to bear before He was through?
Emil's text-reminder had sent him towards dinner, which understandably was a dismal affair. He'd-deliberately-ignored her bleary-eyes, and she'd not commented about his vodka-breath (or dirt-covered-duster). It wasn't till he was returning to his sleeping quarters, holding Roza's hand, that Dimitri took his first easy breath since the morning.
That night, he broke down in her arms, lamenting his 'death'. He poured out his fears and regrets, and just begged for her forgiveness…for everything. His words and touches were reeking of anguish and self-recrimination, but Rose soothed him, with her whispered 'I-love-yous' and her gentle, sheltering embrace.
Falling asleep that night-lulled by the sound of her steady heartbeat, Dimitri not only found the ability to let go of his ghosts, but he truly began to forgive himself, for the first time.
Thanks for reading, and I hope I did it justice enough.
Don't forget to leave a word if you liked it.
PS-Most of this was written while listening-repeatedly-to Relocate by Kauf, so you could give that music a try too. Yes, I have a thing for 80sy music .
Oh well!