Rose POV

It had been four days since Ivan suggested the plan for me to get rid of Dimitri, and I wondered if I really did have a problem because I was considering it.

Dimitri was a pain in the ass; he always had a rule for something and often sent me looks of exasperation. After I escaped from him, he wasn't taking any more chances and had barely left my side.

Even when I sat in the sunroom with my laptop set up for classes, Dimitri was in the room with me. His preferred spot was by the entrance, his back to the wall so he had direct sight of me. The man took the job of being my bodyguard way too seriously.

Ivan and Mason joined us, both constant companions. I hadn't decided if I hated it or not. I was used to Mason always hanging around, but Ivan was different because he wasn't always hovering over me—he would be around Dimitri. I caught glimpses of what Dimitri was like with others, just based on how Ivan would talk to him.

More than once, Ivan made me laugh with some remark about Dimitri. But, of course, that ended up just making me look crazy to the only other living person in the room.

One of the reasons I seriously began considering Ivan's idea was to rid myself of my one-person audience. There was a reason I kept a distance from people; the closest I had to friends were all online—Like Meredith.

We were put together on the first day of classes and did all the group projects together, quickly discovering we had the same dry sense of humour. I could never bring myself to meet with her in person. It would just break the illusion of me being normal.

The class was dragging; my attention was only on the screen because the teacher required us to keep our cameras on. Occasionally, I would glance at Dimitri, a Western in hand as he sat silently. Ivan mentioned they were his favourites, so obviously, I just needed to find Dimitri a John Wayne fan.

I had never tried to set someone up. Even my dating experience was limited. The last date I went on was three months before Mason died, and that had been a disaster. I was still reeling from the car accident and would hear the occasional whisper in my head.

I didn't know where to start with setting Dimitri up.

Opening a separate tab, I sent a message to Meredith.

Rose: How do I set someone up?

It took a minute for her to see the message; I watched her video feed, seeing her eyebrows draw together as she typed a response.

Meredith: For a crime? It's all in the evidence.

I resisted pulling a face, not wanting to gain the ire of my teacher, he had already told me off more than once for being distracted.

Rose: Not a crime.

I paused, chewing on my bottom lip. If I explained what it was for, I would have to give more information about Dimitri, and I wanted to avoid any questions about why he was following me around.

Rose: It's for my story. I want my character to set up another character on a date.

Meredith: Dating app?

I wanted to slap myself.

A dating app, and I never considered it. I could easily make a profile for Dimitri and then somehow get him to meet them. There were some logistics to work out, but it could work.

I had to wait for my class to finish before I started matchmaking. It didn't escape me that setting Dimitri up with someone was creepy, but I was desperate enough to give it a go. There was still a chance that my doing so would make him quit. That thought alone pushed me to download an app on my phone and start the account.

I didn't want to personally pretend to be Dimitri, so instead, I lied in the about me section that I was Dimitri's sister trying to set him up. It was easy enough to make him sound good, as irritating as he was. Dimitri was attractive; if his physique didn't gain their attention, his eyes would. The mixture of brown and amber, when they caught the sunlight, had distracted me more than once.

"Hey, Ivan," I whispered, trying to cover my face so Dimitri didn't see me talking. He seemed immersed in his book, but I didn't trust that he wasn't paying attention to everything I did.

Ivan had reclined on one of the couches, seated beside Mason, bathing in the sun. They reminded me of cats. I knew they couldn't feel it but it was a habit that carried over from when they were alive.

Ivan opened one eye and peered at me, waiting for me to continue. I glanced at Dimitri and then looked back at his friend. "Does Dimitri like women or men?"

"What was that?" Dimitri asked from across the room and I froze.

"I'm not talking to you!" I snapped without thinking.

We stared at each other in silence.

Great.

"I mean…" I sighed, shifting in my seat and ignoring how my face heated. "Do you have a girlfriend?" I bit the bullet and just asked him to his face. Dimitri was already bewildered; my question just sent his eyebrows higher.

He didn't reply.

"A boyfriend?" I tried.

Dimitri closed his book, placing it on the coffee table beside him. "Why do you want to know?"

"Women," Ivan answered me.

I nodded and set the preference on the profile. "Redheads? Blondes?" I continued to question. Ivan pursed his lips in thought but Dimitri crossed his arms with a disgruntled expression.

"I don't believe this is appropriate," he told me in a serious tone, "My personal life isn't your business."

That made me snort; adding great at jokes to his profile. "You have a whole file on my personal life, and that sure as fuck isn't your business. Yet here we are, comrade." The nickname had stuck, especially because each time I used it Dimitri grumbled and flared his nostrils.

Dimitri became quiet, and I focused on finishing the dating profile—the last thing I needed was a photo. The lighting was nice enough in the room, and I doubted Dimitri knew how to smile. I held my phone up and opened the camera.

"Hey, Dimitri," I called.

He was looking down in thought, but his eyes lifted to mine when I said his name, and I took the photo. He was seated at an angle with arms bent so you could see his biceps flexing; the sun gave his eyes and hair a golden glow—his gaze was piercing. It was a good photo.

"Wow. Pensive," I commented and saved it as his profile photo.

"What was that?" Dimitri demanded, standing from his chair.

I smiled at him, rising to my feet and tucking my phone away. "I'm making memories with my babysitter," I replied with false cheer and walked out of the room. I didn't glance back as I ran up the stairs. He never followed me into my bedroom, an unspoken rule of his own, giving me that one space of complete privacy.

It was a small consultation I could give him; none of the others had respected my privacy. Most read 'suicide attempt' and act like I needed to be watched like a hawk. It's what my mother believed.

With the door closed, I lounged on my bed and pulled my phone out of my pocket. Now, I just had to find the perfect match to get Dimitri out of my life for good.

xXx

Dimitri POV

I heard her door close; choosing to remain at the bottom of the stairs. I didn't need to crowd her. Though Rose had slipped away from me twice now, I didn't want to be constantly on her heels. If I ever did such a thing to any of my sisters, I would never hear the end of it.

Rose was in her home and was safe; that was all that mattered.

Each interaction with Rose was interesting. The way she would change from seemingly normal to conversing with herself; I felt like I was having to play catch up whenever we spoke. Our last conversation was no different.

Why would she want to know if I was dating?

I couldn't deny that she was at a disadvantage of me knowing details of her past while knowing none of mine. Talking about myself was not a habit I took any pleasure in; even Ivan had a difficult time getting me to open up to him—and he was the last person I ever had.

Maybe it wouldn't be the worst to try to make a connection with Rose.

A couple of hours passed before Rose reemerged, tentatively stepping into the kitchen with a look of curiosity. I had wondered the best way to encourage her out of her room and into neutral territory; it seemed I had guessed right that food was the best solution.

Rose took another step into the room, sniffing the air. "What's that?" she asked, nodding towards the pot I had on the stove.

I finished drying my hands and folded the towel nicely on the counter. Their kitchen was impressive and appeared almost unused. I had been permitted to use it and any food in the house whenever I wanted.

It had only been five days since I met Rose, yet I had only seen her eat snacks, so I tried to entice her with a proper meal. "It's Beef Stroganoff," I explained as I retrieved plates. I took down two but only filled one, placing it on the countertop between us. "Would you like some?" I asked.

Rose moved closer, looking like a skittish animal that would run at any moment. I watched her lick her lips and gaze at the food with wide eyes. "It smells good," she whispered. Her eyes kept shifting to the side, looking at the empty space and then back at the plate. "You could be lying to me," she spoke again in a low tone and I knew Rose wasn't talking to me anymore.

I pushed the plate closer. "It tastes even better," I promised.

Rose's attention was back on me, studying me. She didn't trust me, and I couldn't blame her.

"I won't force you if you don't want to," I added, stepping back and turning my back on her. I filled the second plate and cut two slices of the bread I made to go with it.

I heard the padded feet of the bar stool drag across the floor. "Can I have some bread too?" Rose asked.

I held back my smile, moving the breadboard to the island between us. I cut another slice and pushed the board towards her, offering the piece. I felt like I couldn't make any sudden movements or make a loud sound as if it would scare her off in an instant. She reminded me of a cat—an alley cat that hadn't learned how to interact with people.

Rose could go from being docile to having her claws out in seconds.

She was definitely a bit wild.

Occasionally, I would glance up at her, trying to be subtle. She was enjoying the food, quickly swallowing it down and cleaning the bowl with the piece of bread. I had barely finished half of mine before she was tapping the sides of her empty bowl and staring longingly at the pot on the stove.

"You can have more," I offered, cutting more slices of bread in preparation.

Her eyes flicked to the side, a slight frown on her face, and then she nodded. I tried to look away before she noticed me watching. I still had a lot to get used to with her.

Rose finally hopped off the stool and moved to the stovetop with her bowl, helping herself to another serving. "Guess you were right," she mumbled. I didn't realise she was addressing me until she sat down and looked at me. "You didn't strike me as someone who knew how to cook."

"My mother taught me how," I replied. Usually, I would leave my explanation there, but I needed to build more of a relationship with Rose, and sharing more about myself was the easiest way to do so. "She taught me and my sisters."

I waited silently, wondering if the conversation would continue.

"How many sisters do you have?" Rose asked, shoving a spoonful of food into her mouth after she spoke. I guess she really enjoyed it.

"Three. Karolina, Sonya, and Viktoria—she's around your age," I told her. I knew without a doubt Rose and Vika would get along, even if they just bonded over being annoyed by me.

Rose hummed, leaning an elbow on the counter as she ate. "That's a lot of people in one house."

"One bathroom."

She laughed, more of a snort. "Did you get the bathroom first or last in the morning?"

"I woke up at five so I could get in there before all of the hot water was gone," I replied dryly, not missing those days at all. When I looked at Rose again, she had a small smile—amused. It was the most relaxed I had seen her since we met.

"Must have been nice, though," she started, "having people there. Doubt you were lonely often."

I nodded, "My sisters had no understanding of boundaries."

"Must be where you get it," she mocked, laughing again. I liked the sound.

I smiled in return, grateful that we were getting along. "What about you? You lived with your mother, right?"

Suddenly, her expression dropped and she drew back. "I don't want to talk about it," she scowled. Though her bowl wasn't empty, she stood and backed away from the counter. "I'm done. Thanks for the food," she told me, her tone void of any emotion, but I could see pain and anger in her eyes—so much anger.

Rose left soon after, her head bowed. I heard her run upstairs and slam her door; I winced when the deep bass of music drifted down. It never said in her file who had committed Rose to the hospital, but I could guess now. I didn't have the full story, but I knew to never bring up Rose's mother again.

I stared at her plate, annoyed at myself for ruining it. The interaction did give me a little hope though. And I did confirm that food was the best solution.

The next day, I was surprised Rose approached me and asked me to accompany her.

She shifted on her feet, bottom lip caught between her teeth and eyes moving about constantly. "I need to go into the city," Rose explained.

We were in the sunroom again while Rose typed away at her computer after her morning therapy. I noticed her looking at me more often as time passed, and now I knew why. It went without saying that I would accompany her, but the fact she told me rather than just leave the house surprised me. Maybe dinner had helped. "When do you need to leave?" I asked, bookmarking my page.

"In half an hour." She pursed her lips, "Do you need time to get ready?"

I glanced down at my black shirt and jeans and raised an eyebrow. "I'm fine like this."

"Yeah. No, that works. Looks good." Rose eyed me again and tilted her head. "You… you should take your hair out."

"What?"

Her face became flush. "Nothing. Whatever. Stay like that. Let me get my stuff," she grumbled and stormed off.

I had no idea what set her off but took it in stride. If she was willing to let me accompany her and not fight me the whole way, then I wouldn't complain about her mood.

My surprise continued when she agreed to drive instead of walking. We sat in silence as I drove, Rose only speaking when directing me. I didn't miss her eyes casting glares at the backseat. Abe suggested it was best for me to not comment on it when she did have a moment. His words, not mine. It didn't feel like the best thing to do, but I had no idea what to do otherwise.

Rose told me where to park and was a ball of nerves as she stood by the car and waited for me to pay the parking meter. She kept rocking on the balls of her feet and checking her phone.

"Are you meeting someone?" the question blurted before I could stop myself. Rose stilled, and her cheeks became red.

"No!" she shouted, fists curled at her sides.

I held my hands up in surrender. "Sorry. You just seem nervous."

"I'm not nervous," Rose defended with a roll of her eyes and spun on her heel. "Hurry up already," she called over her shoulder as she stalked down the street. I could hear her muttering and knew she wasn't talking to me anymore.

I trailed behind her, not directly beside her, but close enough that I didn't give off the appearance of stalking—something Rose had pointed out the last time earlier that day. For a moment, I had been concerned she would cause a scene in an attempt to lose me again, but thankfully, she didn't.

When we stopped in front of a restaurant, I became uncertain. It looked like a bar more than anything.

"What are we doing here?" I questioned.

"I like the food," she replied and walked through the open doors. I didn't trust that she wasn't up to something.

"Why are we really here, Rose?"

"I told you," she scowled, "for the food." Rose picked up a menu and pushed it into my hands. "I want the burger. You decide what you want and order at the bar."

I raised my eyebrows, and her face flushed with anger.

"I'm not saying to order me a drink. Fuck. Just order something. I'm going to sit over there." She pointed to the back corner. It was in direct sight of the bar, and she would have to pass me to leave.

I still didn't trust that she wasn't up to something. But I had decided to try to give her the benefit of the doubt, so I nodded in agreement. "Fine. Go sit down."

A smile suddenly appeared on her face and she all but skipped to the table. It sparked something to see her happy. I hated to admit it, but she was starting to grow on me. I dragged a hand through my hair, fingers catching on the hair tie. I fingered it for a moment before slipping it out and letting my hair fall forward.

Ivan always commented that he would cut it short in my sleep, and that was one of the reasons why I kept growing it on our breaks. After he died, I stopped cutting it.

I released a deep breath, leaning against the bar and looking over the menu. I had almost decided on what to eat when I heard the click of heels.

"Excuse me," a woman asked from beside me. I glanced at her, noting her chestnut hair and bright red lips pulled into a stunning smile. "Are you Dimitri?"