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Marianne remembers the first time Dimitri approached her in the cathedral five years ago. He had told her that he would never regret helping an ally, even if it meant losing his own life. After that declaration, she had insisted that he stay far away from her. Now, in the very same cathedral, their roles are reversed. Dimitri stalks in circles like a beast cornering its prey, mumbling incoherently under his breath to phantoms only he can see. He doesn’t realize she is there, at first; it takes Marianne stepping into his line of sight and reaching out to lay her hand on his chestplate. He awakens to reality with a growl and a pained cry. “Who goes there?”
She swallows and looks into his eye, watching as it darts left and right, pupil dilating and constricting as he gains awareness of his surroundings. She sees that he’s not all there. “Dimitri–” is all she manages to say before he snatches her wrist from his chest and bores his gaze into hers. His grip is tight with fingers like talons, and muddled noises pass through his lips until she sees the last light leave his eye.
“You.” He throws her hand away and turns from her, facing the rubble burying the altar. “Leave me.”
His warning is firm, but not angry, not yet. Though she knows he will likely crumble in front of her, much like the cathedral itself, she presses with conviction. “I won’t.” When he glances over his shoulder, daring her to continue, she does. “You kept me company when I tried to push you away. Now, I will do the same for you. I’m…I’m not leaving you, Dimitri.”
When he faces her the second time, he seems to grow before her eyes, with a stature so hulking and frightening that even the sun would cower from him. Marianne, however, is something of a monster herself. She stands firm.
“Whatever you are seeking from me, you will not receive it,” he warns, slowly stalking towards her, each step pronounced and planted. “I have nothing to give.”
“That’s not true,” she whispers, reaching out towards him to touch him, to welcome him, but he stops in his tracks, and she folds her hands in front of her heart instead. “You…you give me a reason to keep on living. Perhaps if we continue on, we can reach the happiness we both seek.”
Dimitri throws his head back and howls, shaking the entire cathedral with his booming voice and macabre laughter. “Happiness that I seek? Do not dare speak for me. You know nothing of my desires.”
She bites the inside of her lip to stop it from quivering. “I know what you told me five years ago. I treasure your words. They give me reason to move forward.”
His whole body relaxes for a moment, awash in a revelation that brings forth more maniacal laughter. “Do you miss him?” he snarls, regaining control of his body through jagged movements. “The whimsical, delusional boy that held your hand and kissed you in this very cathedral?”
He remembers. After all that happened to him, Dimitri still remembers. The kiss had been chaste, shy even, and he could not bring himself to speak to her for a week afterward. But even when he refused to look her in the eyes, he sat that much closer in the dining hall and let his hand linger in hers that much longer. That kiss was a silent promise that they would remain at the other’s side in their darkest hours.
“That boy is dead,” he declares with a grim finality. “I am all that remains.”
In one swift movement, Marianne floats to him on her tippy toes, cups his cheeks in her hands, and kisses him. It’s featherlight, quick, and delicate, just like their first was, and as she lowers herself back to her heels, she whispers a prayer for Dimitri’s soul, that he would return to her with the discernment and tenderness he possessed when they were classmates.
Instead, Dimitri grips her forearms, forcing them back to her sides. His kiss is nothing like the one she remembers from their shared past. It’s hungry and deep with tongue and teeth, and when she pulls back enough to take a breath, he closes the distance instantly, pressuring her backward as he prods around her mouth, drinking her like life-giving water. She turns rigid when her back flattens against the column reaching to the gaping ceiling. This encourages him all the more, and he presses his body into hers and jams his leg in between her weak knees. She melts into him like cubed ice left on a steaming stovetop. No longer content with holding her arms in place, Dimitri’s hands wander to her shoulder, to the glimpse of skin underneath her neck, and to the curve of her hip, hiding that which he needs under layers of skirts. He groans and drags his teeth against her lower lip. All she can do in response is shudder and gasp, eyelids fluttering closed as he rocks himself into her.
“Open your eyes,” he demands against her lips, reaching for her face and tilting her chin as he leans back. She falls against him. “Look at what you have done,” he reiterates, clutching her shoulder with one hand and her face with the other. “Look upon the beast you awakened.”
She breathes heavily, watching as water pools in his eye and trickles down his cheek. He tries to subdue the way his body pulses, trembles, and shakes, overwrought with more raw emotion than his empty soul can handle.
“I told you to leave,” his voice cracks.
Marianne takes one more deep breath, head no longer spinning, and carefully reaches for his face one more time. She rubs her thumb against his cheekbone, brushing the tear to the dusty floor below.
“I’m not leaving you,” she promises, pulling him down and kissing him again, lightly and delicately. Dimitri can no longer speak, so she holds his face in her hands and lets his quiet sobs replace his mad growls, blanketing the cathedral in something somber yet fully human.