DIMITRI

Tasting her lips again was like falling back into a familiar dance. It didn't take long for the sweet, gentle touches to spark a burning fire within me. Soft caresses morphed quickly into desperate clutching and the need to touch, kiss, and feel everywhere and everything.

Straddled over my lap, I could feel each little movement she made. Every rock of her hips, every brush of her chest against mine. She wasn't even teasing me. She was just lost in our reunion.

"Have I ever mentioned how much I love you in a dress?" I mumbled between kisses. She giggled when my lips moved behind her ear and down the column of her neck.

"No, but I think I'm starting to get an idea." She rolled her hips against me like a wave, and I groaned at the contact.

"Dresses only from now on," I commanded, only half joking.

I felt her smile against my cheek. "That might make training difficult."

I gripped her thighs and pulled her tight against the fly of my jeans. "Maybe. But it would make other things so much easier."

Had we not been in the common area of the house where anyone might walk in on us, I might have ripped her dress off like I had done once so long ago. Unlike that night, I wouldn't have stopped there.

Instead, I let my hands wander her bare legs, relishing each inch of skin. My fingers slipped beneath the hem, exploring everything except what the thin fabric of her underwear still barred me from.

"We should go upstairs," I murmured between kisses. She hummed but didn't make any attempt to move. "Seriously, Rose. You don't want my mother walking in on us, do you?"

My mother was an intelligent woman, and I knew she wasn't oblivious to what mine and Rose's reunion would most likely entail tonight, but that didn't mean I wanted to flaunt it out in the open where anyone could catch us.

That threat seemed to get through to her. She pulled back, wide-eyed and already embarrassed by the possibility. Climbing off of me and adjusting her skirt, she reached for my hand and practically pulled me up and towards the stairs. Our footsteps, typically quick and light, seemed as loud as an elephant stomps in the sleeping house. One of the stairs creaked under my foot, and Rose turned on me, putting her finger to her lips and hushing me as if that one little noise would startle and wake everyone in a three-mile radius.

It didn't take us long to make it to her room after that, each step making the anticipation more and more exhilarating. I urged Rose into the room ahead of me, turning to softly close the door behind us and lock it. When I turned around, I was met with Rose in nothing but a set of lace underwear. She reached behind her, ready to remove one of the last two items covering her, when I stopped her.

"Wait," I said, holding my hand out as she stilled. "Let me just look at you for a minute."

I tried to commit the image to memory. My eyes traced Rose's every curve, refamiliarizing myself with every little detail I had forgotten over the past few months. Freckles on her shoulder. A scar just under her knee. Things that faded from my memory over time and distance.

Stepping closer, I was tempted to touch rather than just look, but I held myself back. Rose deserved to be appreciated. It was obvious that she had got through an effort to look nice to me, and I wanted to show my gratitude. Her underwear, while lacey, wasn't some sort of high-end lingerie with needless straps and extra sparkles. No, it was simple. Beautiful in its restraint. The color was creamy, a few shades lighter than her skin. Closer to my own tone, I realized. She practically glowed in it, though. I gently let my knuckles skim over the swell of her breasts, pleased that my touch almost had nearly the same effect. Her breath grew heavier as I placed my other hand on her hip and teased the edge of the fabric at her waistband. She arched up, her mouth parted, and while she said nothing, I could see the plea in her eyes.

Touch me. Take me. Love me.

And I would. Not yet, but soon.

I hooked my index finger underneath one strap of her bra, lifting it from her shoulder and letting it slip to the side before doing the same to the other. The air between us was practically electric, a static shock just waiting for release. As soon as I touched her properly, I knew we'd shatter.

I pulled down the cups of her bra, revealing her dusky pink nipples that were already peaked tight with arousal. Her breath stuttered for a moment as I swirled my thumb around the sensitive skin. I wanted to pinch the little buds or even lower my lips to run my tongue over them, but I held back. I wasn't done exploring her.

I walked her back until she was sitting on the bed. Then, after gently touching my lips to her forehead, I knelt at her feet. Her eyes widened as I hooked my fingers into the fabric at her hips and pulled it down her toned thighs. Her body had softened slightly without the hours upon hours of hard training that the Academy and I had demanded of her, but somehow that was even more enticing. She was soft where I was hard. Opposites, yet complementary. Two mismatched pieces of a puzzle that fit together without rhyme or reason.

As I settled myself between her open legs, I looked up at her from the floor in total awe at how much I loved this woman. Knowing that I would love her until my dying breath, whenever that would be. I had told Roza that I would be okay, that nothing would happen to me, but I knew I couldn't promise such a thing. What I could promise was that when I died—hopefully a long, long time from now—I'd do so with the memory of her smile sending me peace. I'd remember this moment. I'd remember her laugh. I'd remember the way she'd cry my name behind closed doors. I didn't want to die, but if I did, I would do so knowing my life meant something for no other reason than because she was a part of it.

How did I ever live without her? I couldn't imagine such a sad existence anymore.

I kissed the inside of her thigh and smiled as I watched her bite her lip. I could see that she wanted to demand. It was probably taking all of her effort not to pull me forward until I relieved the ache I knew she was feeling at the moment. She stayed still, though, not-so-patiently waiting for me to worship her.

I put her out of her misery.

Spreading her legs wide, I admired one of the few places on her body I knew no other man would ever witness before kissing the crest of her sex.

My eyes lifted as I heard her moan and watched her head fall back. While I couldn't see her hands, I could see the muscles of her arms tighten and knew that she was clutching the sheets beside her. Just one touch, and she was already mine.

I needed more, and I knew she did too. Emboldened by her reaction, I became more veracious, tonguing her with abandon and feeding off the little whimpers I drew from her. I felt her fingers move to my hair, clutching the strands as tightly as she had clutched the sheets moments ago.

Even though I had no intention of pulling away from her, she pressed me closer, wordlessly demanding a satisfaction only I could provide. I had only tasted her once before, but I was addicted. I was drunk on both the act and Roza herself. I want more. I needed more.

I drank her in, circling her clit, sliding my tongue between her folds before dipping into her entrance. When she began to rock into me, I braced my arm across one hip and used my thumb to tease her in tandem.

The soft whimpers from before broke into a small cry, and I lifted my head despite her protest.

"You need to be quiet, Roza."

I knew it was a whole lot to ask of her, but there were still other people in the house.

She bit down on her bottom lip and nodded. I got the sense that she didn't entirely trust her voice at the moment but would agree to almost anything I asked so long as I went back to teasing her. With a salacious grin, I did just that.

After a few moments, it was clear that it was taking everything in her not to cry out at my ministrations. Before she could lapse, I stood, chasing her kiss as I pushed her onto the bed, following just behind.

"Dimitri," she begged as I pulled away for a second to take my shirt off and toss it back behind me. It must have caught on something because there was a small crash as an object hit the floor, but neither of us cared. All I cared about was her.

Kissing her. Touching her. Feeling her. Loving her.

Her nails drew thin lines across my hips and abs before she began to struggle with my belt. I almost pulled away again to help her, but I felt it come free only a moment before I felt her deft little hand slip under the waistband of my underwear.

I tucked my face into her neck and hair with a groan that I couldn't quite suppress while she palmed me in her hand, sliding her fingers along my shaft before cupping my balls. I thrusted into her touch a bit, unable to hold back from the sheer pleasure such a little thing could bring. I needed more. Thankfully, she was quick to pull my jeans down, boxers in tow, until I could kick the rest away.

She immediately opened herself to me, creating an inviting cradle for my hips within her own. Still, I wanted to watch as I took her again. It had been so long, and I wanted confirmation that this was real and not some dream that would leave me alone and wanting in the morning.

I squeezed her shoulder as I sat up, urging her to stay where she was and rewarding her with a quick pinch of her nipple followed by a soothing caress. Meanwhile, I took myself in hand, pumping myself a few times before placing the head of my cock and watching closely as I pushed inside her for the first time in months.

She arched into my touch, and try as I might, I was unable to keep my eyes from rolling back at the sensation of her body surrounding mine. When I knew I wasn't going to embarrass myself, I looked back to where we were connected and started to move in and out of her at a brutally slow yet even pace.

It was mesmerizing. Nothing ever looked so erotic. So right. This was where I belonged. To see my cock where Rose had once only had her fingers to satisfy was powerful, and I was almost desperate to remind her about how much more I could give her than what she could manage on her own.

Her eyes were screwed shut, lip practically bruised between her teeth at this point. I used the pad of my thumb to free it before she surprised me by licking the underside, reminding me of all the other ways she was so skilled with that pretty pink tongue of hers. When she sucked my thumb into her mouth, I knew I was done for.

I fell on her replacing my thumb with my tongue and kissing her with such fervor that it stole both of our breaths away. I kept one hand planted on her hips to hold her in place while I braced myself over her with the other. The slow and steady pace I had struggled to maintain before was utterly forgotten as I thrusted into her wildly, chasing a mutual pleasure that we had been denied for far too long. Perhaps tomorrow I'd be able to drag out this moment. Maybe later I could taunt and tease and bring us both to our knees. Now though? Right now I needed her. I needed us.

She began to tighten a little, the first whispers of climax pulling at us both. I reached for one thigh, hitching it higher as I pressed deep into her, only to be undone a second later when she wrapped both legs around my waist and locked her ankles across my lower back. It was a simple action, but it was one that demanded everything. She wanted me deep inside her and wouldn't settle for anything less.

I panted against her lips, doing everything I could to hold on until she found her pleasure first. She was so close. I could feel it. She just needed that last little push.

"Dimitri," she whispered softly, so quiet that only I could hear the breathy plea.

My forehead touched hers, keeping us close as I offered the permission she was waiting for. "It's okay, Roza." I swallowed, stifling the gasps in my words. "Let go. Let me feel you."

With one more thrust, she gave in. She cried out before I tucked her face to the curve between my neck and shoulder, letting her bite down into the muscle to quiet her. The whimper that still escaped was the final straw that broke me.

One, two, three more thrusts and I came inside her. I felt the pulse of both her body and mine as I held her tight against me until that sensation started to fade. The harsh panting between us gradually settled into something more stable. Despite the fire that had been fueling us just moments before, I could feel the flames begin to fade and exhaustion pull at both my mind and body. I didn't want to collapse on top of her, so I rolled to the side and fell heavily on the bed.

She tucked herself into my side without prompting and laid her ear over my heart, listening and smiling at the not-quite-steady beating. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and hugged her tightly to me before kissing the top of her head. For a moment, we didn't move, just relishing in the feeling of post-orgasmic bliss in the arms of the other.

I needed to clean us up, though. I picked up my shirt, stepping over the forgotten empty cup it had knocked down when it was thrown towards the desk earlier before slipping on my pants. I didn't bother to even zip my fly as I made my way towards the door.

"I'll be right back," I promised Rose over my shoulder. I clarified a little more when I saw the confused furrow in her brow. "I'm just going to get a washcloth for you. Okay?"

She blushed a little, a small smile of gratitude gracing her face as she nodded. When I returned, she seemed totally content with her head resting back on the pillow and her eyes closed. Her legs were still spread, the evidence of the last hour spread across her thighs like temptation incarnate. We needed sleep, though. I was still riding on nearly a full day of travel, and sooner or later, exhaustion would overtake the best of my intentions.

"Here," I offered gently, cleaning her up with a soft touch. I tossed the rag into the laundry hamper next to the wardrobe a moment later, and though my bag was sitting right there, I didn't want to go digging for sleep pants. My boxers would do for tonight. I lifted the shirt I had been wearing earlier. "Do you want a shirt?"

When she nodded, I tossed it to her. She laughed as it fell across her face before sitting up and putting it on. By the time she was done, was already lying down with my arm open wide for her to cuddle into so that I could tuck the covers around us.

I was about to bid her goodnight when she popped back up.

"Wait!"

My eyes went wide with her sudden exclamation. "What? Is everything okay?"

"Everything's perfect, Comrade," she insisted with a loving smile. "I just wanted to tell you something."

"Alright…" I couldn't help my sudden curiosity at what could be so important that she had to say it right now rather than wait for the morning.

She took a big breath, releasing it slowly as I noticed the nervousness hiding behind her smile. Before I could ask what was happening, she spoke three words that took my breath away.

"Я люблю тебя"

I love you.

I had heard her say those words a hundred times before, but never like this. Never in my native tongue. It was obvious that she had practiced the simple phrase over and over again until it could flow from her lips like silk, but even if she had stumbled, it would have been perfect.

She was perfect.

"Я тебя люблю, Роза. Со всем, что во мне есть, я люблю тебя."

With one last kiss, I settled her against me and replayed her promise in my mind over and over again until it the memory faded into my dreams.

Author's Note

So, unfortunately, this isn't going to be my traditional author's note. There have been a few comments on this story this past week that have been bothering me. Now typically, I can shrug off negative reviews. Do they still sting for a moment? Sure. But I'm confident in my writing and I know that I have the love and support of many others who truly enjoy this story and want to see it continue. That being said, there have been enough negative comments that I feel like I should address a few things.

I don't think I made it very clear early on, but this story is a little different than the typical three-act structured stories most of us are used to. It doesn't have the same predictable highs and lows or traditional plot development/arc. This story is what's referred to as a "slice of life" story. It's more popular in manga and some sitcoms, but it is designed to be slower-paced. As the name implies, it's more of a look into Rose's life as she builds a new 'everyday' and adapts to her new reality. We'll see her grow and gradually blossom as she begins to feel more confident in herself. She is a little OOC at the moment, but that is by design. Her life has been thrown way off course. She is essentially barred from Moroi society, unable to step foot in Court, the academy, or really anywhere else that would be familiar. She's lost her friends, her family, and everything she had known before. Life for everyone else is moving on in the same trajectory as before but all of her plans and expectations were shattered. She feels like she is being left behind as the world keeps turning. Our girl is (understandably) a little depressed and trying to find her footing. We will see a more familiar Rose soon, but give her time. She may never be quite the same Rose we came to know by the end of Last Sacrifice, but that's because her experiences will be different and shape her in a unique way. Dimitri will have his own journey too, though we won't look in on it as much as Rose. A decent part of the storyline is watching Rose and Dimitri's relationship change from what they had/planned and lost, to what they now want instead.

The whole story as I have it plotted now covers nearly five years of Rose's over a couple dozen chapters, many of them just moments here and there as they live life. Some situations will have several chapters dedicated to them while there might be a six-month time jump between others. I understand that this type of storytelling isn't everyone's cup of tea, and that's okay. If it's really not something you are enjoying, then I won't be offended if you stop reading. I always encourage other writers to "write for themselves" rather than writing what they think readers want, and writing This is Not Goodbye is a prime example of that mentality. This is a story that I write because I wanted to try a different style of writing than what I had done before with DPOV and Meet Me in the Memory. I also wanted a long-form story that was based on gradual emotional growth rather than traditional plot development. Part of the reason there are so many intimate scenes is because I'm trying to challenge myself and refine some of my changing writing style in that regard. Basically, I'm writing this story for myself and just inviting others along for the ride if they want to read along.

I know from the outside looking in, it might seem like my stories come easy. The truth is that each chapter is a challenge and I have to work to bring it to life. You may have read this chapter in ten minutes, but I've invested up to ten hours in writing, editing, formatting, and posting. That's a whole lot to give to a fic that doesn't earn me a single penny. This is something I do between taking my kids to afterschool activities, making dinner, and working on projects that will hopefully manifest into an actual novel. I write This is Not Goodbye for fun, and the moment it stops being fun...well, that's the moment I stop writing it.

There are so, so many of you who have been supportive and encouraging. I truly appreciate your comments and I want to assure you that the more disheartening ones in no way negate the joy I feel every time someone says that they enjoy the story and can't wait to see what happens next. Thank you so much for your trust, and I hope you continue to enjoy the journey as we go along. If not, that's okay. You can stop reading. I won't hold it against you or any other reader if they decide to read something else. I do plan on writing more traditional stories in the future and perhaps you'll enjoy those more. Do me a favor, though. If you want to share why you aren't reading anymore, then at least do me the courtesy of sharing under your own name rather than hiding behind an anonymous guest account. I won't harass you over it (and I sincerely ask that other readers/commenters don't harass anyone either) but it does give me the opportunity to discuss privately why I'm making certain choices.

Thank you so much to all of those who read this story. The fact that you take a few moments out of your day to (hopefully) enjoy my writing means a lot to me. Those who take the extra minute to share their excitement and appreciation hold a special place in my heart. All that being said, I think I'll take a week or so to recenter myself. There were moments over the past few days when I wondered if it was worth the time and effort that this story requires if I was only going to open an email the next morning to someone telling me that it was boring or outright sucked. Negativity like that is part of the reason that our fandom loses good authors. I thankfully have a group of friends who are incredibly supportive and built me back up when I got frustrated. They are the reason that this chapter was posted when I was tempted to simply disappear for a while. I still have every intention of finishing this story because I really do love it, but the unusual barrage of negative comments this past week was discouraging. I want to come back with a clear head and renewed excitement for my story, and that's not where I am at the moment. Thank you for your understanding and I hope to see you all again very soon.