RPOV

You'd think after being under the same roof as someone for almost a month you would get used to their features. But seeing Dimitri in bright sunlight is like meeting him for the first time or meeting someone you haven't seen in a while. He stands in the shade in this bright space, clothed in black, white and grey, solid and bold against the colours of the garden. He walks forward and in a swift motion, he's crouched by me.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

His hair is messy, tousled around his face. It makes him look younger or perhaps his actual age.

"What age are you?"

His lips turn down. "What?"

Just because I was awake didn't mean my filter is too. I lean back and inhale, trying to keep focused on the floral smells. Two fat bumblebees are dancing around the sunflowers and I wonder if...I wonder if Natalie would plant daisys if I ask her.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong."

Act normal, be normal, be worth being visible.

I feel him sit down beside me. His voice more relaxed than before. "Then why are you crying?"

"I'm not." I say but the sun's warmth suddenly brings the feeling of wet streaks to my attention. I turn away, wiping my cheeks and chin.

"Okay." He allows and I'm grateful. "Why are you out here so late?"

I almost turn back to face him but the embarrassment at being caught snivelling has made my neck stiff.

"I couldn't sleep."

A light breeze ruffles the tree's leaves causing their shadows on the lawn to dance.

"Neither could I." He responds quietly.

I peek up at him before my neck rusts. His dark eyes are looking forward, toward the flower beds that hugged the lawn in a semi-circle. A pretty buffer to the tall fence behind it which looked to be wood painted a dark green. He had one knee drawn up and his forearm resting on it, his hand hanging limp and his other leg stretched out. If mine were stretched out my foot would probably just make it past his knee.

His skin looks softer despite being home to his sharp cheekbones and a stoic expression. The more I looked the more I began to see it as just a barrier and one I was curious to get past.

His gaze flicks down.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" I blurt out in panic at being caught.

"I'm waiting on a call." He replies, plucking a blade of grass. "I don't sleep much anyway."

"Why?"

The faintest smile presses at his lips. "It's your turn to answer a question I think. That's how the game goes."

"Game?" I ask wearily, tugging the hem of his shirt over my knees.

He hums. "Bartering questions back and forth. You can pass but you miss a turn."

I mull it over and bite my lip tasting apple.

"Okay."

"Why couldn't you sleep?" He asks, cocking his head. The sunlight is threading bronze into his hair.

I draw my knee's closers and lock my hands under them. "Nightmare. Why can't I clean your room?"

"Privacy. What was your nightmare about?"

I didn't like this game. Soundlessly I taste my answer before making it heard. "Janine."

I think his pause indicates he's trying to recall who that is. Somehow that makes me sadder.

"Who's call are you waiting on?" I mumble.

"Ben's." He says in a manner of pushing it aside. "I can still arrange a phone call, Rose, anytime. You can be in contact with her."

"No."

"But-"

"I said no!"

My raised voice sounded alien to my own ears and by the look on his face, I was more surprised than he was. He looked annoyingly calm. I turn my scowl toward the lovely scenery. He begins to speak but I cut him off.

"It's not your turn."

He stays silent while I try and dig up another question. Usually, I had tons and keeping them in was like pushing down on a bulging box or trying to close Natalie's closet. I'd learned she had the main one, hidden behind the pretence of a double full-length mirror in her room. It was like another room because you could walk inside it but it was devoted to the sole purpose of housing all her beloved clothes. Yet somehow things still ended up on the floor.

I finally pick a question from the box, self-consciousness being tugged out with it. I glance at his patient face and try to hang on to some of the fire that sparked when he'd pushed about the call.

"What happened to those people? The one's in the raid."

I feel rather than see him tense up. I also think I see him twitch a little as if in pain but I couldn't imagine why.

"We don't know exactly, we haven't found all of them."

I knot my hands together. "The ones that have been found?"

He turns to me, gaze sweeping my face. I get the idea he's trying to gauge something. "Dead. Three of them."

I hold his gaze. "Strigoi did it, didn't they?"

It's a foreign concept in my mind, a blurry image I tried to associate with that night. More than one dark monster dressed as an angel coming for lots of Moroi children who I could only dress as Natalie, Lissa and the Young Master in my head. And there were Guardians too who had been taken I remembered, Guardians who had Dimitri, Ben and Spiridon's face. But that image was never solid, never as terribly real as picturing Lissa or Natalie prey to those creatures.

"Yes. A lot of them." He says gravely.

"Your turn." I say quietly as the fire slips back down to where it slumbers.

The way he's looking at me should have been a warning. "Why don't you want to speak to her?"

I grit my teeth. "Speak to who?"

"You know who."

"It would make it harder." I admit. "To talk to her and never see her. I wouldn't know if she was really saying what she meant. And it would draw attention, from both of them, and I don't know which would be worse. She would worry about me too because I would say the wrong thing, she would say I have been doing the wrong things and I can't...bear to disappoint her or worry her. I can't stand being a burden to her when I'm not hers to be burned by anymore."

I'd said too much when I really hadn't intended to say anything.

"There have been no further run ins with Moira or Lucas." He says, plucking out one of the things.

"Yet."

"Rose, I promise –"

"Don't. Please don't promise me anything more. You've promised enough I think."

It's true, he had done a lot for me and I had no way of repaying him. Not yet anyway. I also didn't want to believe in another promise, not one that was about keeping my mother away from hurtful things. It would be too easy, too ignorant to be a thousand miles away and believe things are better for her too. And I'd never know the truth, even if I spoke to her on the phone. Someone would undoubtedly be close or listening and she wouldn't tell me how she really was.

There was also the horrible chance that the line would be silent because she'd have nothing to say to me after making sure I was following the rules. Well, maybe she'd be chiding me because I wasn't, not by anyone's standards.

Master and Mistress Ozera wouldn't leave her alone forever, that I was sure of.

"Okay, I won't promise but I will tell you the truth. Lucas is not in Arizona, he's at Court and he is elected to stay there. Moira is at their townhouse in New York. They are nowhere near your mother and if that ever changes, I will tell you."

I nod, my throat feeling tight even though my chest is lighter.

After a few minutes, I lick my dry lips. "My turn?"

He nods and I stretch out my legs. I was right, my sock-clad feet just reach his knee. I notice unlike me he is wearing shoes, boots rather, that he must have just stamped on hastily because the laces are undone. I remember what he said about hating damp socks. I run my fingers through the warm, short grass and pull various questions from the box until I find the one I want. It might be cruel, it definitely overstepped the mark and it might be like holding up my middle finger to all the nice things he'd done for me.

But now it was out of the box and I can't resist. I never could.

"Why did Ben and Spiridon go and not you?" I ask, staring at a group of tulips.

He could lie. He could say that it wasn't strategized out to depict who was suited to going or staying, that it was just the way Victor's order fell out of his mouth. He could say Ben needed to translate German like Victor asked him to do sometimes and Spiridon is his near Guard so would never be left behind.

All the men's combat skills are up to par, that was obvious when I thought about it, considering how much weight Victor seemed to carry, how important he was and there were threats against him. It could be, however unlikely, something to do with me. Victor had noted how I levitated toward Dimitri if I had a problem or a question. He was also firm enough to enforce rules and fair enough with matters to govern Natalie. Or, as I'd learned, he was the last Guardian to join this household and that could be a visible reason. They were all things I would buy if sold in a lie. I'd just have to forget about his agitation and his snappy remarks at me on the stairs.

I breathe in three floral-scented times before peeking at him.

He's looking at me.

My heart stops. Was this it? Was this the line I'd finally overstepped and snapped whatever…understanding or empathy he had toward me?

He doesn't seem angry. His face is as composed as ever with exception of his eyes. They were mild, dark chocolate having been warmed by the thoughts going on behind them. I wanted to know what he was thinking so badly.

It's so annoying.

His lips move once but with no sound. He tries again, running one hand through his hair.

"The same reason you won't speak to your mother." He says, his fingers threaded into the back of his bowed head. "I'm not there because I'm protecting my family." He drops his hand and looks up at my surprised face. "My father is at court, a representative for his Royal family, a step in for the families Prince. We do not get along to put it simply. Seeing me by Victor's side could be an incentive to antagonise policies on a biased scale. Or it could be seen as Victor's way of touching on a sore spot. I would be the opposite of helpful at Court."

"How does that protect your family?"

He looks out around the garden. "He has not seen my mother or my sisters in months because of me. I've hidden them from him. He is not a nice man. Seeing I was involved with Victor he would try and bribe him into revealing where they are in exchange for support."

Dimitri's voice had turned awfully bitter, the inflections in his accent sound like metallic clips.

"You're protecting your family from their parent?" I ask numbly.

A parent was the only safety I had known all my life. The only kind of association to love and to think that it's flipped for him caused my heart to ache in a different way.

Was my father the same? Is that why I had never been told about him? Is it why my mother never spoken about him and where he was or who he was?

"He is not a parent. He is a parasite." He says, forcing the correction.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that question."

"I could have passed. I'm not a victim to the game." He says, adopting a lighter tone.

"Still it was… nosey and I knew the real reason was going to be something bad."

"It is what it is. Don't feel any guilt Rose, you aren't responsible for how I handle my feelings. And as for your curious nature," He says turning to me. "It's more endearing than irritating, don't apologise for it either."

I smile without authorizing it. It feels nice. His expression is softer but he's not smiling, just studying me.

"So running makes you feel better?"

"Exercise releases endorphins and relieves stress." He says like reading it off a book.

I scrunch up my nose. "I don't think it's working."

He laughs and I feel my expression drop off. A quick laugh with two beats, his head falling back so he's smiling at the summer sky.

"Well, maybe it's because I run in the dark." He says, his mouth receding into a small smile.

I feel like I've been hit on the head with a rock. I scrabble around inside the box.

"Will you train me in the dark?" I ask, the words falling out of my mouth.

"For some parts maybe. It will be easier to start early evening when it's cooler."

The anticipation was bubbling up. "Are we starting soon?"

He cocks his head again. "Maybe. You look healthier but we'll weigh you first."

Urgh, I have to rely on my body to not betray me.

"When?"

"We can do it in the morning if you like. Our morning rather." He looks back to the garden. "If you're ready we'll have to wait a day or two before beginning. I've overdone it the past couple of days." Unconsciously he rolls his right shoulder and his expression pinches slightly as it had earlier when I thought I saw him twitch.

I didn't want to wait longer. Not if I was ready, not if there were groups of Strigoi running around, not when there are dangerous Guardians who look at you in the way Stan does, not when I could learn to protect myself now.

"You've strained your trapezius muscles." I say sounding like I'm guessing even though I'm sure.

He stops in his attempt to knead his shoulder to raise an eyebrow. I realise he's surprised.

"Have you moved onto medical books now?" He asks.

"My mother knew, knows, about them and how to treat them."

"Does she." He murmurs, thoughts building behind his eyes.

"Yes, she taught me. I can help if you let me?" I sit up on my knees and face him. He's just looking at me and it's making the need to prove something more imminent. "The back muscles need palmar and petrissage kneading. I can do that if you want?"

"You want to rub my back?" He says, still expressionless.

Hot defence zips through my veins. "I want to help and I want you to teach me as soon as possible."

He considers this as another warm breeze ripples over the garden.

"Alright."

Updated: 14/042022

Soooo I'm REALLY tired and need to go sleep now :D
You'll get the other half of the chapter soon, massage included... sorry there will be no candles, fire hazard n all.

(8) DO YOU WANNA TOUCH, DO YOU WANNA TOUCH ME THERE? YEAH? YEAHHHH.

sorry, leaving now.

(NO WAIT I LIED. THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH fOR STILL BEING SO KIND, PATIENT AND GRACIOUS. XXX)