His Precious Flower

Chapter 12

"Get off me! You're sick!"

I struggle as best I can, but it's hard when your feet aren't even on the ground.

"Flavia! Stop!"

I shake my head and continue to try and work my way out of his grip, but it's useless.

"Stop fighting me, flower!"

His grip increases around my waist so much that I loose my breath for a second. With nothing to

do, I stay still. What have I gotten myself into?

Dimitri drops to the floor and holds our wet bodies close together.

He sighs relieved and buries his head in my hair.

"It's not how he made it sound."

Not as bad? Not as gross?

"You're telling me what he said isn't true?"

Dimitri shakes his head hesitently.

"Not exactly."

"Then what exactly is it?! Explain everything!"

Dimitri sits me sideways in his lap and I do my best to keep a relaxed posture, but it's hard when

you don't trust who you're with.

"It is tradition to find a woman and either continue the bloodline or make her kind of like... Your

own child. According to tradition, I would take care of you like a baby, but drink your breast

milk. Usually if there are brothers, they share the woman in that sense. She feeds them all and

becomes part of the community."

I scrunch my nose and nearly gag at the thought of Ivan being that close to me.

"So it's all true and you're just trying to convince me to stay," I finish off.

"No! No, flower. It's different."

"How?"

Dimitri takes a deep breath and fiddles with a strand of my hair.

"Having children is up to you. It's your body. Though I do hope you will let me teach your body

to breastfeed, I would NEVER share you. It's one of the rules, remember? No letting other men

touch you."

I nod and tilt my head in thought. So I can do what I want basically. Like a normal

relashionship... With some kink.

"Did you just admit you want me to have your babies? Or... Not, but do baby things?"

Dimitri smiles softly and nods.

"I know we've known each other... What? Three days? But I'm certain you are perfect for me,

flower. I'm aware it's too soon, but when you are comfortable with it, I want you to be my wife."

Obviously I'm surprised. It's a bombshell infact.

We must sit in silence for several minutes, but as I'm unable to process these questions, I focus

on more current ones.

"Where are Ivan and Danil?"

"I told them to stay on the pool deck. When they're finished swimming they'll leave unnoticed.

I'll make sure they don't come by unanounced again."

Thanking him with a kiss on the cheek, I look down to my feet and notice some of the bruising

and bloody gashes from hours of ballet have finally begun healing with the abrupt break.

"When will the theatre be done?"

Dimitri pulls out his phone and checks something before responding.

"Normally it would take about a month, but I have five teams working on it day and night. A few

weeks was the esimate, but it looks like they'll be done in a couple days."

I smile at that and think about getting back to dancing.

"Why didn't you like the list of plays? They've been doing those every year."

Dimitri scoffs A bit.

"Exactly. The same plays over and over. It's a wonder people hardly show up. The new theatre

calls for new shows and that will bring in more money."

I nod in understanding. I suppose that makes sense.

"You didn't tell me you had a brother."

He shrugs nochlantly.

"We hadn't gotten there yet, but now that you've met him why don't you tell me about your

family?"

Anger and hurt hits me like a train.

The topic makes me uncomfortable, but Dimitri did confess he wanted to marry me, so I suppose

I could open up some too.

"Promise not to tell or do anything about it?"

He tries to argue and gets a bit upset when I wont elaborate without a promise, but he eventually

agrees.

"I'm sort of a runaway. Or was. I'm legal now, so they can't do anything if they do find me."

The surprise on Dimitri's face matches the amount of questions I can see in his eyes.

"What do you mean NOW you're legal? Flavia, how old are you?"

He looks very serious right now and hope my answer won't change anything. I don't think he's

that much older.

"18."

Dimitri's mouth opens a bit and he blinks at nothing for a moment.

"I-i thought you were like 23 or 25 with younger looks. You're so put together...mature...

experienced ballerina...you lived alone..."

He seems to putting peices together and I know he's figured out that I lived alone when I was

younger than eighteen too, but one question nags at me.

"How old are you?"

Surely 25. That was his guess for me too after all. His hesitation and shaky hand make me

nervous, but it's his answer that shocks me.

"I'm 38."