"Okay Comrade, you can go get your notebook now."

"Stunningly beautiful and generous? I'm a lucky man."

I roll my eyes, but fail at holding back my grin. And even though he kisses me again before leaving the room, his abscence tugs on my heart. I mean, I know its irrational to not want him out of my sight just because we won't be seeing much of each other until the tour. And just because I'm in love with him, it doesn't mean...

...god how did I let this happen?

I mean, it's quick. Very quick. If I'm honest with myself, I've felt this coming for a while. I just didn't want to acknowledge how hard I've fallen for him. I bring my hands up to my face, as though I can brush the truth right out of my mind. It's a really confusing mix of emotions, considering.

Because on the one hand, I love Dimitri. With all the butterflies, the giddiness, the euphoric feeling of that first realisation. When I look at him it feels like I'm going to float up into the clouds, and he can steal my breath with a single glance. His good looks are approaching godlike, he's the best sex I've had in my life, and Dimitri clearly enjoys spending time with me too. But we haven't been together long. So it's unlikely that he returns my feelings right now.

Which kind of sucks. But that's not really something I can afford to worry about, given the limited time we have together. And yet it's there at the back of my brain, that niggling doubt. Because if something happens now, if one of the numerous external factors at play right now blows up in our faces, I think it would destroy me.

Then I still have to worry about the tour, about interacting with Dimitri's label without him there as a buffer, of what to do about Mason... I'm sure Dimitri has a fair share of things to deal with on his side as well.

"You look like you're trying to solve the world's problems, Roza."

I remove my hands from my face, glancing sheepishly up at him.

"Not the world's problems," I admit. "Just my own."

Dimitri kneels next to the bed to stroke my face, bringing his smile so close I can feel the warmth of it.

"So I guess I didn't succeed in fucking your brains out?" My lips twitch at his attempt to make me laugh, and he sighs. "If this is what happens when I leave the room, maybe I should just stay here."

My throat tightens. "And deprive the world of Dimitri Belikov's latest hit? I don't think so."

"Hmm, okay. But I will make it up to you."

I roll onto my stomach so I can move my face even closer to him. "Deal. I've found that I like when you're indebted to me."

"Have you now?" he smirks, leaning forward.

"Kissing me now is probably not a good idea," I breathe. "You have a song to write and I'll already have trouble walking tomorrow."

Dimitri's come hither expression dissolves into an adorable pout as he leans back again.

"Okay fine," he concedes. But there's a glint of mischief in those dark brown eyes. "I'll just need you to stand so I can take a closer look at your naked body."

I roll my eyes and do as he says.

"Where do you want me?"

"Everywhere I haven't had you yet," Dimitri answers after a beat.

I blush, but shoot him a warning glance. He just grins at me, twisting my side towards him as he sits on the bed and balances the notebook on his knee. I keep my arm raised as Dimitri writes, meticulously copying the words on my skin onto the lines of the page. Occasionally he reaches up to trace a word with his fingertip, which is pleasantly tingly.

"You know, it's much less impressive on this canvas," Dimitri muses as he transcribes the last line. He holds the notebook up to my ribs, comparing the two.

"Maybe," I allow. "But that way is a lot easier to carry around."

He laughs. "I don't remember having any problems carrying you around earlier, Roza."

The memory sends a thrill through me, an echo of being pressed between his body and the wall. But I don't let my thoughts show on my face.

Instead I raise an eyebrow. "You want to leave this room to write your song?"

"No," he grins. "But I probably should."

I change the subject. "Is it okay if I watch something while you're busy?"

Dimitri shrugs. "You can make yourself at home. Watch something, play something- oh and you're welcome to grab anything from the fridge if you're hungry. Just try not to break anything that looks important."

I smile and reach for his hand, squeezing it a little as he rises.

"Thank you," I say.

He chuckles. "No, thank you Roza. Come find me if you get bored, okay? I'll try not to take too long."

I nod and he presses a kiss to my lips before he leaves. I try not to let myself feel too glum as I watch him retreat. And the best way to avoid that is to keep myself busy.

My first point of call is locating my clothes. While Dimitri can just grab another set from his wardrobe since he lives here, all I arrived with were the clothes I was wearing. I'm able to find my underwear here in his room, but as I clip my bra I realise I need to have a little bit more coverage if I'm going to be wandering around his apartment. So I grab one of his tshirts and pull it over my head. He's so tall that it even does a decent job of covering my ass, so I head back through to the living room.

My jeans are pretty easy to find, having been left in a heap in the middle of the living room floor. As I put them on I spy Dimitri's shirt in a similar state by the sofa, so I pick it up and fold it neatly. My own shirt, however, eludes me. I retrieve my blazer and hang it by the door, keeping an eye out for my errant shirt. But after a few minutes of searching I have to conclude that it's vanished for the time being.

After that it's a matter of deciding what to do with myself. I walk around the apartment for a bit, still half expecting my shirt to turn up somewhere. But as I walk past the window, Dimitri's record collection captures my attention. I find myself completely absorbed as I flick through the albums, feeling like with each title that passes through my fingers I get to know their owner just a little bit better. From what I can tell, he listens to a bit of everything, including a surprising amount of Prince. I'm itching to listen to some of my favorites, however Dimitri's record player falls decidedly into the category of things that look both important and breakable. Without being able to play any of them, my attention wanes as I finish going through the bottom shelf.

So I find myself back in the living room proper, debating what I should do. I could watch TV I suppose, but the sheer size flatscreen that's busy pretending to be a painting is intimidating as hell. In spite of that, I take a quick look around the coffee table for the remote. But when I find a gorgeously fluffy blanked stowed in one of the cubbies, my decision is pretty much made. It has been an incredibly long day, and I am tired. So I wrap the blanket around my waist and retreat to the sofa with my phone.

The pillows are so inviting, all soft and comfortable, and if I breathe in deeply I get the subtle scent of Dimitri paired with the leather. In short it's the perfect place for some mindless scrolling. But as I settle back into the cushions and unlock my phone, I remember that I still haven't listened to Lissa's voice note. And when I open my messages to find it, Gerry's name is at the top of the list.

Right. That.

As much as I don't want to waste my precious time at Dimitri's thinking about Mason, I do at least owe Gerry an update. So I fire him a text telling him I worked everything out. After a little deliberation, I add that I'll fill him in on the situation tomorrow and hit send. It's likely he's out on a job anyway, but otherwise it's enough that he won't go hounding Mason for the invoice that he definitely will not get.

With that done, I'm about to turn my attention to Lissa's voice note when a message comes through from a number I don't recognise. I tap through to get a better look.

Hey Rose.

Well they seem to know who I am, but a moment later I receive my answer on their identity.

It's Mia here. I'll be dropping your car at the apartment in about an hour. Is there anything you need?

I roll my shoulders, trying to ease my discomfort at the reminder that she's running around after me and Dimitri. I mean, I know it's her job. But I can't get past the embarassment of not doing things for myself. So I try to keep my reply blasé.

Hey Mia, thanks for letting me know. I'm fine though, you don't have to worry about anything else.

I figure that will be the end of our conversation but she starts typing again. Curious, I wait for her response.

Oh, so your stay at Dimitri's was planned? You've got a toothbrush and a change of clothes?

I... crap. she has me there. And by her implied tone, she knows it too.

I do not, I type slowly, and grimace as I hit send.

Her reply is almost immediate, starting with an eye roll emoji.

You don't have to feel bad, Rose. This is my job. Please let me be paid to spend Dimitri's money on you.

I huff a small laugh. Well when she puts it that way...

You win. A change of clothes and toiletries would be amazing. And maybe pyjamas too?

Now we're talking. Send me your sizes and preferences and I'll make it happen.

I type out the details, finishing with: thanks Mia, you're a star!

She reads the message but doesn't reply again, and I switch to Lissa's chat. Even though I know Dimitri's on the other end of the apartment, I still turn the volume right down. I hold the speaker to my ear and hit play.

"Rose, I'm so sorry I haven't replied yet," comes the sound of Lissa's voice. Even though it's a recording, it still puts a smile on my face. She really shouldn't sound so guilty.

"It's been crazy busy here," the voice note continues. "But honestly your advice was exactly what I needed. I just talked to Christian and... we're dating now!"

I let out a little scream, echoing the excitement in her voice.

"It's been great, and now I don't have to feel guilty about him working so hard. Actually, you'll be able to meet him soon. They're planning a photoshoot and fundraiser for the grassroots campaign we've been working on, and the board finally agreed to have it in LA!"

A massive grin spreads across my face when that particular bit of information registers. I'll have to make a plan to meet her there. But of course, she's already thought of that.

"So I'll fly you out next month to join us if you're not busy. Anyway, let me know. It feels like forever since I last saw you. Oh and tell me how it's going with Dimitri! Okay bye!"

I laugh at her enthusiasm, but it does nothing to dislodge the bubble of excitement in my chest. I get to see Lissa in a month! I could just about dance through Dimitri's living room. My first instinct is to run to him and share the news, but I stop myself. I don't want to distract him yet, and I can tell him later.

So I type a reply to Lissa, telling her that I won't be busy, that I'm really excited and adding that I'll call her later to update her on everything. As I exit our conversation, my father's text catches my eye and I finally decide on responding that both he and my mother also have phones, and thus possess the capability of calling me too. It's a well worn line of conversation, and I already know that his response will be along the lines of them not wanting to risk bothering me at work since my schedule is so unpredictable. After a moment's deliberation I add that my schedule is open for the rest of this month if he wants to schedule dinner.

Here's hoping I don't regret that later.

Even though I didn't talk to that many people, I find myself withdrawing. This day has taken its toll on me, and I can't muster the mental energy to keep catching up on messages. But I also realise that I don't have the WiFi password, so mindless scrolling isn't an option. I could ask Dimitri, but I still feel like I haven't given him enough time. However I figure there's a chance I can find it written down somewhere in his office, so I head down the hall and onto the room where Tasha had me sign the NDA.

The PC's LEDs pulse like a heartbeat as I enter, casting multicoloured shadows on the walls. The desk is bare, not a scrap of paper in sight, and a quick glance around the room tells me it's unlikely I'll find what I'm looking for. But my attention catches on the unassuming little device on a shelf in the corner. It's a Nintendo Switch, with white controllers instead of the fun colourful ones I've seen pictures of.

Not that I game much. Or at all, really. But I've seen them around online, and I've heard some of the guys on the crew talking animatedly about one game or another at different points. It's the one game console I've always been curious about. Plus this is a rare opportunity for me: I have time to kill and access to a cool piece of tech. Dimitri even specified that I could play anything I want.

So I fire up the switch after locating the on button with a preliminary inspection. Dimitri's profile is the only option, so I log in and scroll through the list of games he has installed. They all look pretty cool, if intimidating, but in the end I settle on a title that sounds vaguely familiar. It features a rad little gothic skull bug dude, and the cartoony style makes me think it won't be too difficult.

Either I'm really bad, or I was wrong about it being easy. Because I die a lot.

But I do really enjoy wandering around exploring the world. I get to fight enemies, talk to the random bros I encounter, and I even find some hidden areas. And I feel a genuine sense of accomplishment when I get enough currency to buy the map.

I finally start to get the hang of the controls, and it only takes me three tries to beat the first boss. But once that's done I realise I've been playing for a while and I'm kind of hungry. So I save my game and put the switch back in its cradle, then head to the kitchen.

Well, it's no wonder I'm hungry. The kitchen clock shows that it's almost an hour past the time I normally eat dinner. So I to remember which cupboard is actually the fridge, because apparently the aesthetic in here is uniformity. And in pulling open a couple, I do manage to locate the plates, from which I grab two and set them on the counter with some cutlery. Finally I open the actual fridge, and my jaw drops.

It's like something out of those organisational videos on tiktok. Everything is in containers, neatly stacked and grouped by food type. The top shelf holds every type of beverage you could possibly want, and there seem to be prepped bags of fruit and vegetables specifically for smoothies? I can only assume Dimitri has staff to do this for him, since there's no way he'd have the time. But I do have to marvel at the fact that while money can't buy happiness, apparently it can buy convenience. And personally that would save me a whole lot of heartache.

The fridge starts beeping at me because it's been open for too long, so I quickly look through the contents for some kind of meal. Grabbing a container that looks promising, I close the fridge and retreat to the counter. And bam, just like that, I split what turns out to be homemade lasagna between the two plates. In the next step of my plan however, I'm entirely foiled.

I listen at the door of Dimitri's studio for a few seconds, knocking when I find that it's silent. But it turns out that's because Dimitri isn't even in there when I open the door. Though judging by the abandoned jack cable on the floor, he can't have moved too long ago.

"Dimitri?" I call down the hallway, but I get no response.

When I manage to find him in his office by the computer, the noise cancelling headphones he's wearing are all the explanation I need. I tap him on the shoulder.

"Roza!" his face lights up as he pulls the headphones off. "There you are. I thought I heard you in here earlier."

I smile at his smile and nod at the chair I was sitting in while playing. "I was, but I got hungry. And I was trying to bring you dinner, but I can't find your microwave."

Dimitri laughs. "Thanks króshka, I'll come help you in a minute. Do you want to hear the song first?"

I tilt my head. "Króshka?" My tongue is hesitant on the unfamiliar syllables.

"Oh, it's a term of endearment. Come listen."

And before I can argue, Dimitri pulls me into his lap and puts the headphones on me. I have to catch them as they slip past my earlobes, before adjusting them for my much smaller head. I turn to Dimitri to roll my eyes, only to find him in the middle of a burst of laughter. To me though, it's entirely silent.

"Wow, these are incredible," I say, my voice sounding strangely muted.

Dimitri grins and I see his lips move, but I just shrug.

"I can't hear you. You want to play the song?"

He reaches past my elbow and taps the spacebar with one elegant finger, and my ears fill with the sounds of his guitar. It's very clearly just a demo, but his voice is raspy and gorgeous.

"Should we slip in between the sheets

Observe how our bodies meet

Watch you as you worship me

Pray that time will freeze

We'll generate some body heat

Bring you to the edge with me

I beg better on my knees

My pleasure to please"

Dimitri stops the track and hooks one side of the headphones off my ear.

"What do you think?"

"Hmmm," I hedge. My eyebrows knit together as I think how best to phrase it, before I decide on: "It's... not what I expected."

"God, Roza," Dimitri chuckles, poking me in the ribs. "So you hate it?"

I laugh nervously with him, feeling my cheeks flush. "I don't hate it," I explain, "I just don't know why it sounds like a ballad."

Dimitri's gaze focuses on me, those brown eyes still dancing with laughter. Or is it curiosity?

"You don't think it's a ballad?" he asks. "Isn't it a love song?"

A wave of warmth radiates through me, and I sternly tell myself to get a grip.

"The lyrics are more in line with lust than love," I shrug.

"Interesting," Dimitri muses. He looks like he's lost in thought. But after a beat, he shakes his head and shoots me a smile. "Okay, so how would you do it?"

I laugh. "I mean, you're the musician Comrade. What does it matter?"

I pull the headphones off altogether and set them on the desk, smoothing my hair back down with my hands.

"I just want to know," he shrugs with an enigmatic smile. Then he pushes the chair back from the desk and shifts out from under me, leaving me alone in the seat. A second later he's offering me his guitar.

"It's not the chords," I say quickly. "And the melody is fine."

"Truly, a scintillating review," he laughs. "Come on, Roza. Just give it a shot."

I deliberate for a second, but Dimitri genuinely doesn't seem offended. So I take the guitar and prop it on my knee, revelling in the weight and feel of it.

"Did you write those chords down?" I ask.

He nods and clicks through to a different window so the chords flash up above the lyrics on the monitor in front of me. Then he gives me a reassuring smile and gestures for me to play.

I read through what he's written first, following the original timing with my fingers. I pluck the chords once at each change, keeping the song at its leanest so as not to overwhelm the silent possibilities.

"I think it should be more staccato," I voice my thoughts once I've gone through it. "A little jazzier? The lyrics shouldn't sound so heavy, they need to be like. Cheekier."

"Have at it, I'm all ears."

I glance at Dimitri with a smile. "I never thought I'd have to sing for my supper."

"Oh, I always knew I'd get you to sing for me," he replies. "I can be very persistent. And I enjoy watching you work."

"You're making me nervous," I tell him, turning my attention back to the monitor.

"It's weird, isn't it?" Dimitri says with a note of amusement. "I've seen you entirely naked, I know what you feel like wrapped around me. But this is a completely different kind of vulnerability."

I glance at him out the corner of my eye. "That sounds an awful lot like a kink, Comrade."

His grin widens. "Imagine that. So how about this: sing for me now, and I promise that I'll make you scream again later."

My face flushes and I turn back to the monitor. I'm turned on of course; he seems to know exactly how to get me all fired up. Yet as my pounding heart sends blood racing through my veins, I find that I'm in the exact headspace that I need to be in order to sing this song. Because now when I'm done I want him begging to fuck me in this chair.

It may seem counterintuitive, but the first thing I lay down is the base line. I keep time with my breath as I pluck single notes on the bottom strings. While I'm not a bassist by any means, not to mention this is an accoustic guitar, I'm pretty sure I manage to get the idea across. Dimitri silently oversees the process of recording the track, showing me how the waveform appears directly in the software he's using. His level of focus is fascinating; I've never really watched him work before and apparently he takes it very seriously. I remind myself not to get distracted.

I put one half of the headphones back on so that I can hear the bass track while I run through the chords. I need my other ear uncovered in order to hear what I'm playing. I hum the words as I go, toying with the timing to make the rhythm more similar to swing. After playing it through a couple of times I'm more confident in how it sounds, so I nod at Dimitri to cue the recording. And then finally I'm ready to lay down the vocals.

Dimitri has to stand in order to adjust the arm of the mic, bringing it much lower down so that it's suited for my height. He brings the levels up for the channel on the mixer, and while he's busy with that I open the recording options in the software. It's relatively easy to add the mic playback into my headphones so I can hear my voice as I sing. Just to be sure, I count down from ten and adjust the volume until it's just right.

Then I play the track back, my eyes flicking over the lyrics as it goes. There are a few places where I have to add words in order to make the timing fit, but I finally shoot Dimitri a thumbs up.

It's showtime.

I clear my throat and take a breath, leaning in to the mic to begin. By this point I've heard the song so many times that I've memorised the words. So instead of reading them off the monitor, I turn slightly and catch Dimitri's eye.

"Should we slip in between the sheets?" I sing the first line, keeping my voice low and breathy, my lips soft enough to kiss. But most importantly, my eyes never leave Dimitri's. So I get to watch as his gaze heat as I work through the lyrics.

"Observe just how our bodies meet?

I'll watch you as you worship me

And you'll pray that time will freeze."

At this point I think Dimitri's expression could melt steel, and I have the satisfaction of watching his lips part, his throat bob. It only gives me extra fuel as I sing.

"We'll generate some body heat, bring you to the edge with me." My tongue flicks over my lips, and my chest expands as I take a large breath. The melody is more involved here, and requires more power. So I briefly squeeze my eyes closed as I hit the high note on the next line: "I beg better on my knees. It's my pleasure to please"

I don't even know if he stops recording before his tongue is hot in my mouth and his hands are on my body.

"Fine," he growls in between kisses. "It's not a ballad."

Later we eat at the kitchen counter, after Dimitri shows me how the cabinet in the corner of the kitchen houses both the microwave and the kettle.

"Are you worried someone's going to poison you?" I ask, waving my fork at him indignantly. "Or is it just considered low class to have your appliances on display? Like, only peasants can be accused of preparing food?"

Dimitri throws his head back and laughs. "Neither," he says as his laughter subsides, "I actually had the designer hide them away specifically to annoy my girlfriend."

I roll my eyes, but can't hide my smile. "Who's your girlfriend?"

"You see anyone else in the kitchen?"

"We still can't know for sure that Tasha's not around somewhere," I joke.

Dimitri playfully ruffles my hair, and I make a noise of protest.

"You are my girlfriend, Roza. And I have it in writing."

"Mmmm, you do," I agree, looking fondly up at him while he takes another bite of salad.

He'd taken one look at the portion of lasagna I'd put on his plate earlier and halved it. Then he grabbed a green salad out the fridge. I didn't think it was polite to comment, but I figure it has something to do with maintaining his incredible physique for the tour. But honestly the salad also looked pretty good, so I traded some of my lasagna to make room on my plate as well.

"So," Dimitri says once he swallows, "what did you get up to while I was writing?"

"Oh, just kept busy. I caught up on some messages. Played on your switch a little."

His eyebrows raise. "I didn't know you game."

"I don't," I grin. "Always wanted to try a switch though. It was fun. And I like that it's portable. It must be great to bring on tour."

"Oh, that's actually the main reason I bought it," he agrees. "Sometimes we'd hold tournaments on the bus. Maybe I should prep you a little, kick your ass at Mariokart a couple of times?"

"That sounds like it would get pretty boring for you. Oh!" Dimitri almost drops his fork at my exclamation. "Lissa's coming to LA next month! Something for their upcoming campaign."

"Oh, Roza, that's excellent news!" he says warmly, "When was the last time you saw her in person?"

I have to stop and think about it. "I think it was her birthday last year. Our free time never seems to overlap much."

"I know the feeling. But I'm really glad you'll get to spend time together."

"Yeah," I grin. "And I'll get to meet her new boyfriend."

Dimitri chuckles, maneuvering a chunk of lasagna onto his fork. "It sounds like you'll have a great time," he says, but then he hesitates. "I wish I could go with you. But with all of the prep I have to do..."

Oh. Right. Somehow I had just assumed he'd be with me. But of course he's going to have way too much to do. I try not to let my disappointment show.

"No, I know," I assure him, trying to keep my tone light. "You're going to be really busy. But I won't get any work until the tour because... Mason. So at least I'll have something to keep my mind off of missing you."

My eyes stay glued to my plate as I speak though, until he pulls me into his arms and all I can see it his shirt. His hand strokes the back of my head, and I press my face into his chest so that he can't see my eyes fill with tears.

"I'm glad you won't have time to miss me, Roza," Dimitri says softly into my hair. "And after a month on tour you'll be reminiscing about this, wishing you could be rid of me again."

"I somehow doubt that," I mutter into his shirt, and then I decide that it's time to have that talk he mentioned on the way over. "So tonight is going to be the last time I see you for a while?"

Dimitri's chest expands as he sighs, and I tighten my arms around him. But he shifts out of my grip and pulls back so he can see my face. Which there's really not much I can do about at the moment.

"Roza, are you crying?" he asks with wide eyes.

I shift my gaze away, trying to cover the awkwardness. "I mean, it's not like I can say no."

A small smile. "You could say no, I just wouldn't believe you."

That makes me smile a little too, in spite of myself. "I can't believe you're calling me a liar."

It's bittersweet, enjoying the banter that's always come so naturally to us in the face of this. It seems like some cruel joke to have finally figured out I'm in love with him, only to have to navigate how to survive without him for two months. Maybe we'll be lucky. Maybe he'll get a break at some point.

"You've got that look on your face again, Roza. Trying to solve the world's problems?"

I sigh. "Still just my problems. It keeps getting harder to say goodbye to you."

"For me as well," Dimitri replies with a sad smile. He pulls me back into his arms, so his next words radiate into me from his chest: "Let's go to bed, króshka. Worrying won't take away tomorrow's problems."

Author's Note

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked the chapter (or if you didn't and you want to tell me why) please leave a review! It's always so great to hear your thoughts. Also, if you'd like to keep in the loop when I post, please feel free to follow and favourite.

It's always such a weird feeling when I post snippets of my own songs and poems. Like, sharing thousands of words of smut? No problem, bring it on. But sharing something with a hint of emotional vulnerability is a little more tricky. In any case, I'm really happy with how this fic is progressing, and I'm honestly amazed at how often I've posted in spite of an insanely busy year. Some days I really feel like adults also need someone to give them a sticker and tell them they've done a good job. So to anyone who needs it: you're doing amazing and I'm proud of you!

The VA universe and the characters therein are the sole intellectual property of Richelle Mead.