EIGHT
It's my last night in Germany, and I need to let go of all the tension that had followed me from Rome. So, there I was, an oversized tee and my underwear, dancing around the small hotel room with my earbuds in, trying to shake off the thoughts of Dimitri that refused to leave my head. The thought of those kisses that still lingered on my lips.
I turned around mid-twirl and nearly screamed when I saw him—Dimitri—leaning casually against the wall by the window. My heart stopped, and I gasped, snatching a pillow from the bed to cover myself.
He was clearly amused, his lips twitching upward in a barely suppressed grin. "You have quite the dance moves," he remarked, as if this were a perfectly normal situation.
"What—How—" I stammered, trying to wrap my head around him being here, in Germany, in my room. I tightened my grip on the pillow, feeling the heat rush to my face. "How did you even get in here?"
He glanced over his shoulder at the open window. "The window," he replied matter-of-factly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
I gaped at him, then followed his gaze to the window, which was barely cracked open but apparently enough for a centuries-old vampire. Shaking off the initial shock, I managed to ask, "How did you find me?"
Dimitri's eyes flickered with amusement, and he tilted his head slightly pointing at himself. "Tracker," he reminded me with a faint smirk.
I tightened my grip on the pillow, trying to calm the racing of my heart. "I thought I dulled your powers," I pointed out, half-accusing, half-disbelieving.
He nodded, acknowledging my point. "You did," he admitted. "It was… challenging to find you, but not impossible."
His words hung in the air between us, and I struggled to process the fact that he had come all the way here. "But how did Aro let you leave Italy?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.
Dimitri's expression shifted, becoming a bit more guarded. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his presence so familiar now, yet still so foreign. He leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees as he considered my question.
"I didn't tell him," he replied calmly, his voice steady and firm, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "Aro is… not one to grant permission easily, especially for matters of personal interest."
I stared at him, the weight of what he was saying sinking in. "So you… you just left?" I whispered, incredulous.
"Yes," Dimitri said, meeting my eyes with a seriousness that sent shivers down my spine. "For now, at least."
The room felt too small all of a sudden, the air too thick with unspoken questions and the charged tension of being close to him once again. My heart raced, not from fear but from the knowledge that this was real—he was real, and he had come all this way, against the rules of his own kind, to find me.
I swallowed hard, the pillow still clutched tightly in front of me as if it could shield me from the weight of his presence. The question slipped out before I could stop it.
"Why?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why did you come here, Dimitri?"
He looked at me for a long moment, and I could see the conflict in his eyes—the struggle between centuries of loyalty and the pull of something new, something he wasn't quite sure how to handle. He seemed to consider his words carefully before speaking.
"Because I couldn't stay away," he admitted softly, his voice holding an unexpected vulnerability. "You… intrigue me in ways I can't fully explain."
I blinked, my grip on the pillow loosening slightly as his words sank in. There was something raw in his expression, a glimpse of the man beneath the centuries-old vampire—someone who had made a choice, despite knowing the risks.
"I've spent centuries following rules," Dimitri continued, his voice steady but laced with something that sounded almost like resignation. "I've always done as I was told, lived with the chains that came with my role. But you… you make me want to break those chains."
His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt a strange mixture of emotions—fear, curiosity, and something else I couldn't quite name. The intensity in his eyes was overwhelming, and I struggled to find the right response.
"But… why me?" I asked, trying to make sense of it all. "I'm just… I'm no one special."
Dimitri shook his head, a small, almost rueful smile tugging at his lips. "That's where you're wrong," he murmured. "You're different. You challenge me in ways no one else ever has."
I couldn't help but feel my heart flutter at his words, even as my mind screamed at me to be cautious. There was a danger here—one that went beyond the physical. But there was also something undeniably compelling about the way he looked at me, as if I were the one thing in a world of shadows that still held light.
"Dimitri…" I began, unsure of where to even start.
He reached out slowly, carefully, as if testing the limits of whatever fragile bond we were forming. His fingers brushed against mine, and I felt the coolness of his touch send a thrill through me.
"I know this isn't fair to you," he said quietly. "And I can't promise you that this won't end badly. But I couldn't leave things as they were. Not without trying to understand why you affect me this way."
I looked at him, searching his eyes for any sign of deception or insincerity. But all I saw was someone who, despite everything he had been through, was still capable of making choices that went against everything he had known.
And in that moment, I realised I didn't have an answer to give him—not yet. But the fact that he had come all this way, risking so much, was something I couldn't ignore.
So, instead of pushing him away, I let myself lean into the uncertainty, into the moment that felt both terrifying and thrilling.
Taking Dimitri's hand, I led him toward the bed, trying not to dwell on how surreal this whole situation too much of my legs were on display, but he didn't seem to mind—in fact, his eyes tracked my every movement as if memorising each line and curve. There was something both thrilling and nerve-wracking about having his full attention.
I turned on the TV, fumbling with the remote, and heard him shift on the bed behind me. He leaned back against the pillows, eyes following me with curiosity. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and genuine confusion.
I glanced back at him with a playful grin. "I'm educating you on how to be a vampire," I said, selecting The Vampire Diaries from the menu.
He raised an eyebrow, a trace of skepticism in his expression as he tried to piece together what I meant. I hit play and settled beside him, close enough that I could feel the coolness of his presence. He shifted slightly, making room for me, and after a moment, his hand rested gently on my leg. It felt almost instinctive, yet strangely intimate.
As the show began, Dimitri's confusion turned to something like cautious interest. He watched the scenes unfold, and soon enough, his questions started.
"Why are they in high school?" he asked, sounding genuinely perplexed.
"Because that's where all the drama is," I explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And the whole 'good vampire versus bad vampire' dynamic."
He remained silent for a moment, then offered another question. "And the constant brooding?"
"Gotta have the brooding," I replied, laughing a little. "It's part of the appeal. That, and all the love triangles."
"Love triangles?" he repeated, his tone bordering on incredulous.
I nodded eagerly. "Yep, and sometimes love squares. The show is basically vampires dealing with normal teenage problems, plus a bit of murder and eternal life thrown in for fun. I love watching it at home because it annoys my family. It's like making fun of them."
Dimitri's lips twitched as if he couldn't quite decide whether to be amused or baffled. He glanced between me and the screen, trying to process it all.
"And you think this is accurate?" he asked, a playful skepticism in his voice.
"Well, not exactly," I admitted with a grin. "But it's entertaining! You could learn a thing or two about the dramatic entrances."
"I'll take that under consideration," he replied, though the amusement in his eyes was unmistakable.
We continued watching, my leg brushing against his as we sat close, and I couldn't resist launching into a rant about how the show's portrayal of vampires was both ridiculous and oddly compelling. Dimitri listened, occasionally nodding or offering a dry comment that made me laugh.
His hand rested lightly on my leg, the gesture feeling so natural that I almost forgot how out of place it really was. But then, in the middle of my latest rant, he reached over and gently tilted my face towards his, catching me completely off guard.
"Dimitri—" I began, but he didn't let me finish. He leaned in, and his lips met mine in a kiss that was sweet yet intentional, a quiet statement rather than a question.
When he pulled back, I was left breathless, the words I'd been so eager to say completely forgotten. Dimitri's eyes held mine, and I felt a small laugh escape, the absurdity and intensity of the moment overwhelming.
"Not exactly textbook vampire behaviour. I couldn't help myself," he murmured, his voice low and warm.
"Well," I replied, trying to sound more composed than I felt, "maybe you're just rewriting the rules."
Dimitri's expression softened, the corners of his mouth lifting in a subtle, almost disbelieving smile. It felt like a moment that didn't quite belong to the rest of reality, and I found myself wanting to capture it, to hold onto this brief sense of shared space between two people from such different worlds.
"Rewriting the rules," he echoed thoughtfully, as if testing the phrase on his tongue. He leaned back slightly, his hand still resting on my leg, fingers brushing absently against my skin in a way that sent shivers up my spine.
I couldn't help but grin, trying to ignore the warmth spreading from where his touch lingered. "What's wrong?" I asked, tilting my head. "Afraid of a little rebellion?"
Dimitri chuckled softly, the sound deep and surprisingly genuine. "I've spent my life following rules," he admitted, his eyes drifting briefly back to the TV, then returning to me. "It's not in my nature to… challenge them."
"Well," I said, nudging his shoulder lightly, "maybe it's time you embraced your rebellious side."
He shook his head slightly, but I could see the flicker of amusement in his eyes. "And this show is part of my education?" he asked, his tone almost teasing.
"Absolutely," I replied with mock seriousness. "Consider it a crash course in twenty-first-century vampire."
He seemed to relax more as the show went on, occasionally making dry comments that revealed a subtle, clever sense of humour beneath his reserved demeanour. I responded with exaggerated sighs and exasperated explanations, turning what could have been an awkward situation into something almost comfortable.
As another episode played, I felt myself rambling on about how the characters' motivations never made any sense, when suddenly Dimitri shifted closer, his gaze narrowing slightly.
"Are all these… plot lines so complicated?" he asked, the amusement in his voice mingling with genuine curiosity.
"Pretty much," I replied, shrugging. "It's all about heightened drama, big emotional stakes, and—"
Before I could finish, he reached up and pressed a finger lightly to my lips, silencing me mid-sentence. The unexpected gesture caught me off guard, and for a moment, all I could do was stare at him, my words forgotten.
"Perhaps," he murmured, his voice low and deliberate, "we don't need to analyse every detail, darling."
I opened my mouth to protest, but Dimitri didn't give me a chance to find my words. Instead, he leaned in and kissed me again, this time with more intent, more feeling. It wasn't urgent or demanding, but there was a softness there that I hadn't expected—a hint of something deeper beneath the surface. I attempt to take it further.
When he pulled back, I felt a little dizzy, my thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. Dimitri's gaze held mine, and for the first time, I saw something in his eyes that felt almost… vulnerable.
"Sorry," he said softly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You were getting carried away again."
"Right," I breathed, unable to hide my own grin. "I guess I do that sometimes."
He chuckled again, the sound both familiar and strange. And for a while, we just sat there, close enough to feel each other's warmth, neither of us quite willing to break the fragile peace that had settled between us.
The TV continued to play in the background, but it felt like white noise—just another detail in a moment that felt entirely our own.
