Dimitri POV

Everything was stained red.

My hands pressed against Rose's chest, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. The floor beneath Rose's back, blood pooling around my knees. Her dress, which I had tenderly removed only hours ago. Her mouth, from which blood flowed as she fell to the floor.

As soon as Tasha pointed the gun in their direction I stopped breathing and started running. I wanted to put myself between Rose, Lissa, and the deadly weapon in my former friend's hands. I didn't hesitate for even a second before putting myself in danger. If it meant the girls were safe, I wouldn't consider any consequences.

But I was too late. The bullet didn't hit me. Though I felt it would have hurt less than the pain that flared up in my heart when I saw Rose fall to the floor.

Lissa was forcibly dragged away, but I stayed, trying in vain to stop the blood flowing in streams, escaping through my fingers. Rose's face was losing color with each passing second that went by too quickly. Despite the pain twisting her lips, her eyes remained gentle. She took short, spasmodic breaths, choking on the blood in her mouth.

I knew she was ready to die, and I wanted to scream at the very thought. I couldn't let it happen. I pressed my hands tighter on her wound, not wanting to let her blood escape, but it flowed through my fingers along with Rose's life.

I looked at her and begged her not to give up, not to leave me. Her gentle gaze met mine, and for the last time, I saw the warmth that my heart would recognize anywhere. I heard her last shuddering breath through her bloodied lips. A heartbeat later, her eyes went still, and everything my Rose was—her wild, untamed, beautiful soul—faded away too fast for me to try and stop it.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Rose couldn't leave like that. If she left, the whole world would have to break in half, for sure.

"Rose. Rose! ROSE! ROSE!" The screams escaping my lips sounded foreign, as I tried to revive her by putting my hand on her frighteningly pale face. "Rose, wake up, I beg you! Roza, please, please, please wake up! Please…"

Rose did not budge. My pleas were pointless because Rose could no longer respond to anything.

I screamed until my throat was raw. By this time, help finally arrived, and they quickly took Rose on a stretcher, but I knew it was in vain. I saw the moment my Rose was gone. I fell to the floor, feeling my heart torn into pieces, wishing the ground would swallow me whole.

…

I woke up choking on air, drenched in sweat. Panic raged in my head, and it took me a while to realize it was only a dream—a memory. I was breathing hard, but then I registered that Rose was sleeping peacefully, snuggled against my chest. I held my breath to make sure she was breathing and began to calm down when I felt her steady, deep exhalation.

Today was the first time Rose had opened her eyes since her surgery. Everyone had come to visit her, and although she enjoyed every visitor, it all cost her a lot of energy, so she quickly went to bed and fell into a deep sleep.

Panic continued to grip my mind, and I couldn't calm my breathing, so I held Rose tighter to me, sinking my face into her hair. I forced myself to focus on the irrefutable evidence that Rose was with me, that she had survived—on her breathing, her warmth, her light grip on my shirt. I concentrated on the fact that my Rose was alive.

I shuddered at the memory of the moment when the light I loved disappeared from her eyes when I saw the life drain out of her. That memory played relentlessly in my head like a movie as we waited for the end of her surgery and then for her to wake up. I refused to leave her side, aching for her to open her eyes. I knew it would be a long time before this memory stopped taking my breath away.

After some time, I calmed down and wiped the sweat from my forehead. Rose snuggled into me in her sleep, and I gently embraced her. I was glad I managed not to wake her. I wanted her to have plenty of rest and opportunity to recover. She tried not to show it in front of her friends and family who visited her today, but I could see she was still hurt and needed time to heal.

I combed through her beautiful hair as she breathed quietly and cuddled into me. I did not allow myself to think beyond her scent, which drove me insane. Beyond the touch of her unreal hair between my fingers, the sound of her calm breathing. The taste of her skin under my lips, as I couldn't resist kissing her wherever I could reach. Rose filled all my senses, and I didn't want it any other way.

Minutes passed, my heart rate slowed, and I could think rationally. My fingers wandered through her hair and over her exposed skin, and I suddenly realized it was the first time I held her in my arms as she slept peacefully at night. After so many months of loving her and thinking I could never be with her like this, months when I thought I had no right to even get close to her, ending with the fear that I had lost her forever.

The very act of being so close to her seemed sacrilegious. For so long, I had longed to at least touch her skin with my fingertips, but it was impossible for us. Every stolen glance or smile was sacred and forbidden. The possibility of holding her in my arms and kissing that beautiful hair made my head spin with happiness. I ran my fingers over her waist, promising myself that I would do anything to stay by her side. I wouldn't let anyone take her away from me again.

Rose suddenly jerked in her sleep, and her whole body tensed up in my embrace.

"Roza?" I said her name, feeling fear grip my heart. Was something wrong with her wounds? Had the painkillers stopped working? Was she having a nightmare?

Rose moaned, tightening her grip on my shirt.

"Son of a bitch," she spat out. I put my hands on her shoulders, wanting to lay her on her back to check the wound, but she met my gaze. "Do we have any painkillers nearby?"

I gently laid her beside me and reached for the pills on her bedside table. I handed her water and helped her drink. After she finished, Rose snuggled tightly into me, as if trying to escape the pain.

"Maybe I'll call the doctor?" I asked, concerned. If she had some complication with the wound…

"No need, comrade. It will pass in no time. It just hurts like hell."

I massaged her back in slow motions, and when her breathing calmed a bit, I started showering her head, forehead, and temples with kisses. I heard her light laughter.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm distracting you," I whispered between kisses. I felt her warm breath on my neck as she laughed again. "Is it working?"

"It is. You can keep going."

So I did. I kissed inch after inch of her skin. I couldn't get satiated, and I didn't expect it to be possible. I craved her warmth, her touch, her in a way that was never going to be enough. But I was going to spend my life trying to get as much of her as I could.

"Are you better now?" I asked when I felt her relax in my embrace. She murmured affirmatively and shifted to look into my eyes. A small smile played on her lips.

"Much better. Especially since tonight I get to spend my first night with you."

I laughed softly, knowing our thoughts were on similar tracks. I slowly moved closer to kiss her lips.

"The first of many, don't worry," I promised quietly, and she tightened her grip on my shirt.

"I hold you to your word, comrade," she purred sleepily. I pressed her to me and began combing through her hair in slow motions to help her sleep again. The painkillers definitely helped.

"Don't worry," I murmured as she fell asleep, "I'll take care of it."

Rose sighed contentedly and fell asleep with a soft smile on her lips. My heart was still broken from seeing her nearly die in my arms, but the sight of her calm, relaxed face as she snuggled into me in her sleep glued the broken parts together, piece by piece.