Ch. 34

RPOV

Songs: Gooey by Glass Animals, Celebrating Nothing by Phantogram

The warm breeze twisted my ponytail and brushed the loose pieces of hair against my face as it whirled around us. The last remnants of the sun clung to the horizon giving the grounds a hazy orange highlight. I pushed my hands onto the wooden bench and leaned forward, hoping to soak in as many rays as I could before the sun abandoned us for the night. I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of freshly cut grass combined with Dimitri's sweat.

I don't know how it was possible for someone to smell so good after a 5-mile run, but the familiar aroma elicited a contented sigh from me. The bench let out a small creak as Dimitri shifted next to me and I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, slightly embarrassed that he had just heard me make that sound. He couldn't know it was from smelling him though, could he?

I could feel his gaze pointedly fixed on me causing my cheeks to instantly flush. Dammit, he knew. I hesitantly turned to face Dimitri and peered at him from under my eyelashes. I half expected to find a smug grin plastered on his face, but instead, he wore a heart-melting look that nearly stole my breath away.

"What is it," I asked, trying to feel him out.

He reached up to twine a piece of my hair through his fingertips and a small shudder rippled through me under his near-touch. "I almost forgot how beautiful you are in the sunlight."

Those burning eyes drew me in like a moth to a flame and I felt slightly dizzy under his adoring stare. "I'm a sweaty mess," I mustered out as I tried to keep my composure.

"I love it when you're sweaty," his deep voice rumbled causing something more feral to awaken within me. His hand that had been lazily playing with my hair moved to trap my neck as he slid closer to me, only stopping when he was a breath away from my lips. I inhaled his musky scent again, not caring if he caught me this time.

"Well in that case, maybe we should go run a couple more miles," I teased. "The sun's going down, but I'm sure I could muster up enough sweat to satisfy you." A small crease formed next to his eyes as the beginnings of a smile cracked his intense gaze.

"As nice as that sounds, I actually had another activity in mind," his tantalizing bottom lip grazed against mine as he spoke. A ragged breath was the only response I could muster. His other hand snaked across my thigh, sending burning waves of heat between my legs. "Something more...intimate. Back at your apartment."

I gripped his hand on my leg and jumped up from the bench, tugging him with as much force as I could gather up under my flustered state. "Well, then let's not waste another minute, Comrade." I yanked him forward and could hear a small chuckle escape him at my eagerness.

/

"This is not what I had in mind." I stood at the kitchen countertop with my arms crossed as I looked over the ingredients and variety of bowls splayed across it. I was practically pouting, but my disappointment in that moment was far greater than any shame I'd feel for acting like a spoiled brat.

"You should feel honored Roza," Dimitri defended. "Olena Belikova takes great pride in her black bread recipe and granted me special permission to share it with you." He cracked an egg with one hand, deftly maneuvering his fingers around it as the yolk oozed into the bowl before tossing the shell into the sink nearby.

"Besides," he wiped his hands on his pants and moved from his adjacent position to stand directly behind me. "It needs to rise for a couple of hours. I'm sure we can find something to do in your bedroom while we wait." Dimitri wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling my back against his broad chest.

A couple of hours? Someone was confident. "By that, you better not mean cleaning up my closet. Because that is not going to happen."

An amused huff escaped his lips and he pulled me tighter against him. "I'll let you use your imagination," he said as he nipped my ear with his teeth. I let out a small moan, which quickly turned into an aggravated groan when he moved away to start stirring the bowl of goo again.

"Tease."

He nudged a bowl and spatula over to me with a look that was far too cavalier for Dimitri Belikov. I attempted to give him a scowl in return, but the permanent smile on my face betrayed me.

Since we had brought him back from the Royal Court cells three days ago, there was a warming feeling of contentment within me that I refused to let go of. Court was gradually crumbling around us, but I couldn't let it interfere with these rare moments I shared with Dimitri. Who knows how much longer we even had together.

After a few more meetings with Adrian and Lissa, the Queen had called Dimitri in to thank him and offer him his job back at St. Vlad's. To her disappointment, he declined but graciously thanked her anyways. Abe had made it very clear that although he had agreed to help get him out of jail, he still owed him a debt. Not that Dimitri would have argued otherwise. He was a man of honor and just because Abe was my father, he wasn't expecting to receive any sort of special treatment from the infamous Zmey. In fact, I think he was under the impression that he would be held even more accountable because of that little tidbit. I expressed my thoughts on the matter and threatened to ring the serpent's neck, but Dimitri insisted that he would be the one to handle it and settle his debt without my involvement.

He said I should take the opportunity to get to know my father without the all-consuming drama looming over us. Easier said than done, but I guess I owed it to myself to at least try. In between meetings with the Queen and checking in on Lissa, I had made time to see Abe one-on-one. Occasionally, my mother would join us, which only made things feel even weirder. I can't remember the last time I'd seen her smile so much. It would be cute if it wasn't so sickening.

"Not too much molasses," Dimitri warned, pulling me from my thoughts before my nausea promptly arose.

"Four words I never thought I'd hear come out of Guardian Belikov's mouth." He shook his head as I poured the dark, sticky syrup into my bowl. I caught his eyes glancing over at me again, inspecting my work. "I can't concentrate with you hovering like that."

"I'm not hovering, Rose," his tone was light and comfortable, reminding me of how he was back in Baia. "I'm just making sure you're not—WAIT!" His hand moved as fast as lightning to mine, but his grip was somehow still gentle and controlled. I froze in place with the bag of salt in one hand and my spoon in the other.

"This," he lifted my hand holding the spoon, "is a tablespoon. This," he lifted his hand with a smaller version of mine, "is a teaspoon."

"I take it they're different?" He pursed his lips, probably in an attempt to suppress a provoked sigh, and plopped the teaspoon into my palm. I gave him an innocent smile as I poured the salt into the plastic spoon. "I never claimed to be good at this, Comrade."

He shook his head this time before spouting out a couple more instructions. I pretended to listen intently as my left hand snuck into the bag of rye flour beside me, nodding along as he spoke. Dimitri lifted his bowl above a loaf pan and carefully dropped in his kneaded dough, covering the silver tin metal with thick, black fluff. The smell was already heavenly and his serene look was almost enough to make me change my mind. Almost.

My palm gripped around the flimsy powder, half of it falling out before I could get a good hold on it. As another good chunk of it slipped between my fingers I flung it over to Dimitri's perfect face, catching him by complete surprise. White specs clung to his cheeks and his eyes shot to his forehead. His now soiled face slowly turned to me, his expression completely immovable.

"Roza," he gritted through his teeth, but I knew there was still some softness behind it as his nickname for me crept out of his mouth.

"Whoops," I shrugged my shoulders, still wearing that innocent smile. "My hand slipped."

I was too busy giggling at his white speckled face to notice his quick movements behind him. Before I could react, his hand, along with something crisp then sticky, smashed onto the top of my head. A devilish smirk inched up his face as his open palm came down, holding the remnants of a crushed egg. My jaw gaped and my shoulders went stiff in an attempt to keep the egg from oozing further down my head.

"Why you—"

"Sorry," he interrupted flippantly. "My hand slipped."

We stared one another down, our eyes narrowing as we tried to gauge the other's next move. There was a familiar playfulness behind those deep brown eyes that spurred me on, and I reached into my bowl to fling the black goo at his neck. His hand went up to block it, but some of the slime seeped through his open fingers, splattering across his tan skin. He sunk his hand into the same bowl and smeared some of the batter across my cheek. I squealed and backed away, grabbing the bag of flour as I retreated.

And then...it was on. We traded blow for blow. An egg for a fistful of flour, a spoonful of goo for a chunk of melted butter, all the ingredients to Olena's famous black bread soaring across my tiny kitchen. I started flinging a myriad of whatever I could grab wildly, only knowing I'd made contact when I'd hear a small shout from across the kitchen. When I was at the bottom of my bag and cowering behind a frying pan I had managed snag off the countertop, I called out in between exhilarated shrieks, "Okay, okay! Truce!"

I peeked over the edge of the pan to Dimitri across the counter. He was looking at me speculatively as if I might be trying to trick him and jutted his chin over to my skillet-free hand. I instantly dropped the bag and raised both my hands above me. His eyes looked me up and down, inspecting any sign of a coup, then the most glorious sound escaped his lips. A full-bellied laugh rumbled across the stained tile and marble kitchen. I looked down at my appearance to find myself covered in every possible item that he could've gotten his hands on. I should have been completely grossed out by the assortment of raw food clinging to my clothes and exposed skin, but his laugh was so contagious, it sent me into a fit of my own. When I looked back up to him again, my hysteria only increased. Chunks of flour caked the ends of his hair, streaks of molasses striped across his chest, and black cocoa peppered his cheeks and neck. He was a delicious mess.

My sides started to ache and tears threatened to spill out of the corners of my eyes but I did my best to hold them in, worried that they might cause the flour on my face to bunch together. When our laughing finally started to die down, Dimitri grabbed his somehow untarnished pan of dough and popped it into the oven. I slid down to the floor as he shut the oven door and started a timer, my slimy back making an extremely unattractive sound as it skid along the cabinet.

Dimitri's shoes turned and walked towards me, sticking to the floor with each step. When they reached my side he crouched down, putting the rest of him back into view. He pulled his knees up and rested his elbows on them as we inspected our Jackson Pollock masterpiece.

"What have we done," I mumbled as my hand slid through a pile of brown goo on the floor.

He hummed lightly, the remnants of his laughter clinging to the sugar-filled air. "Well, not quite what I had in mind." He tore his gaze away from the mess to face me, his soft tone shifting into something a little sultrier. "But I'm sure it will still be delicious."

I attempted to raise my eyebrow at him suggestively and couldn't help the small giggle that floated between us. My heart was beyond full and even though I was a sticky mess in desperate need of a shower, I wanted to savor this moment for just a bit longer. "What was it like the first time Olena taught you to make black bread," I asked in an attempt to keep him here on the dirtied floor next to me.

"A lot less messy," he tilted his head towards me, the playful glint still lingering in his eyes. "And actually it was Yeva who taught me, not Mama. She was," he paused as he sifted through the memory to find the proper words to describe it, "much more serious and methodological about it. She can be that way sometimes, even when doing something as simple as making bread."

I let out a small scoff at the mention of his austere grandmother. "Is there anything she does that doesn't result in some morbid idiom?"

He looked at me slightly confused and I realized I'd spoken the words I hadn't meant to say out loud. My expression turned sheepish and he nudged me with his shoulder to encourage me to elaborate. I hadn't wanted to bring this up before, a warning of his impending death or worse wasn't really something that came out over casual conversation, but I guess while we were on the topic of his grandmother I might as well get it out.

"Before we left Baia, she gave me a warning, more or less, about you. Well, actually it was her through Paul because of the language barrier and all. But anyways, she said if I cared about you that I should tell you before it was too late, and she had that super creepy fortune teller look in her eyes. She should really consider opening up a booth at the traveling circus, you know?" My rambling halted long enough for images of him lying motionless on the ground in the Ivy's basement to rise into view. A worried chill snaked up my arms and my stare fell into my lap. I had almost lost him and if Lissa hadn't conjured enough strength to heal him, he wouldn't be here next to me.

Sensing my train of thought, Dimitri's hand gently brushed under my chin and guided my gaze to meet his. "I'm not going anywhere, Rose."

The finality in his words was so strong. Strong enough to make me believe he would do everything in his power to maintain the truth behind them. But after the events of the past few weeks, I was also faced with the harsh reality that he wasn't this invincible god that I had subconsciously molded him to be. He could get hurt. He could die. Which only made these small moments even more precious, and I wouldn't take them, or him, for granted ever again.

"Neither am I, Comrade. You're stuck with me for the long haul now."

A satisfied smile rested on his face and he brought his hand back down to his knees. "Well, I guess that means I should tell you that there is no language barrier. Yeva speaks English."

"What?!" My reaction elicited an apologetic look from Dimitri.

"She doesn't speak it often, but she knows it well. I think she does it so she can listen in on others without them knowing, but I'm not for certain why."

"Why that—she—uggghh," I stammered trying to control my rage while attempting to not insult Dimitri's grandmother. "You know you're family's nuts, right?!"

"Maybe a little," he chuckled. "But I guess we have that in common." I rammed my elbow into his side causing him to flinch and pursed my lips in mock affront.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry she tricked you," he didn't look all that sorry. "Maybe a present will cheer you up?"

"Present?" I perked up, immediately forgetting I was supposed to be pretending to be mad at him.

The hand that had just rested under my chin reached behind him and into his jean pocket. When it came back there was a small black bag nestled in it. I reached for it excitedly, my fingertips lightly grazing the inside of his wrist as I pulled it to me. I shook the bag next to my ear, trying to identify its contents and Dimitri shook his head at me again amusedly.

I dug my hand inside and pulled out a small cylinder tube. It was the same lip-gloss I had coveted back at the academy. It was the first gift that Dimitri had ever given me, in a time before either of us had succumbed to our feelings for each other or even realized how deep those feelings ran. It was the first time he had shown me that he thought about me as more than just some novice, and actually cared enough to gift me something that would make me smile. A huge grin spread across my face at the memory and the small gesture in front of me. I now knew how much he cared about me and the lengths he would go to ensure my happiness, but this small gift was a way to remind me where we started and how far we'd come. It was sappy and sentimental—and I loved it.

I turned to face him, beaming like a giddy, lovesick fool. "Thank you, Dimitri." I shifted to my knees to reach his height and pressed my lips to his. Dimitri's hand came up to my face, his thumb anchoring against my cheek and his fingers lightly brushing the skin below my ear as he deepened the kiss. I pushed closer to him and wrapped my arm around his neck to hold myself up—or keep myself from floating away. Suddenly, I felt his nose crinkle next to mine and a smile press against my lips.

"What is it," I asked as I slightly pulled away. Another light chuckle escaped him and I moved back to look at him, confused by what was so funny.

"You reek of eggs, Roza."

I had completely forgotten the state of mess we were in and let out a laugh as well. "Come on," I said as I hopped up from the floor. "Let's go get cleaned up."

Dimitri nodded, still wearing that breathtaking smile that he reserved just for me as he rose to stand. "Besides, I do remember someone mentioning certain bedroom activities while we waited for the bread to bake."

He leaned down and kissed me again, this time slipping his tongue in between my lips giving me a taste of warm melted butter and molasses. He barely pulled back so that his lip grazed mine again as he spoke in a low breath, "A promise I intend to keep, my love."

A/N: Dimitri…what a tease. Gotta love that man ;)

You can all thank ohorpheuss for this playful Romitri moment because when the DH Godmother asks for fluff, she gets fluff!

The story is, unfortunately, coming to an end soon, but not just yet. Still a few more things for the gang to take care of before we say goodbye. I can't say thanks enough to all of you reading/following this story, especially to those who have been there from the beginning! Y'all are amazing.