Chapter 45

Nikola was lounging on the bed, with only a sheet to cover his middle, as Dimitri painted him.

“For how long have you felt like this?” Asked him, the blonde, as he expertly did his brush strokes.

“Ever since you showed me the videos. I think, on some level, I was outraged with myself,” which was good, Nikola reasoned. That meant he had morals, in this life, if not in all the rest. Dimitri hummed.

“I’ll leave your punishment to you,” said the blonde, and Nikola’s eyes widened.

“What do you mean,” Nikola shifted in bed, but then remembered he was being painted, and became still again.

“I mean, there is no worse punishment than self-punishment. And that is what you are doing now, morsel. You are torturing yourself over what was. Agonizing over your choices. If I was a better man, more smitten, I would have stopped you,” Nikola didn’t argue with that. Dimitri was being honest now, and the brunette appreciated that.

“So, every day, we come here and do a timeout?” Dimitri nodded slowly.

“That is the plan. Until you stop hating altogether. No one can know about it, either. You have an image to uphold,” Nikola wanted to tell Dimitri that this image was fake, now, but kept silent. “Done. Come and see.”

Nikola got off the bed, naked as the day he was born, and approached the canvas. He saw that he had a neutral expression on. Had he been like that the whole time?

“I take it you are not happy with the painting?” Asked Nikola, and Dimitri snorted.

“You are not happy either, come here,” Dimitri positioned Nikola on his lap and breathed in his scent. He still smelt of the bathing salts they had used.

“Do you want to do something now? Or, can you attempt to smile?” Nikola mulled over the question and attempted to crack a smile, but it came off as a frown.

“I don’t think I can,” he said, bowing his head down in defeat.

“We can watch something. Were you aware that I can view the lives of everyone who lands here like one big TV show? Some of them land here because of their thoughts. It is amusing to watch how different their actions were from what they truly wanted,” Nikola hummed.

“No, thanks, come back to bed,” that was more of a plea than a demand and Nikola felt himself being scooped up and carried back.

“So, we cuddle?” Dimitri sounded hopeful, and Nikola squashed the little voice in his head who reminded him of what Dimitri had done during the time loop. There was no place for that voice in this relationship.

“Sounds nice. Dimitri, tell me of your childhood. You are grown and so you must have had one, long ago. Do you still remember it?” Dimitri snuggled closer to Nikola and covered them both with the blanket.

“Vaguely. I liked to paint, even then. That was what attracted Arikel to me. I painted her one night in exchange for a loaf of bread. I had this gig going where my patrons would pay for the painting while knowing I would include inside the price for the materials. But during those years, before I was turned, I lost my job at the water mill, and so I was just starving,” Nikola then wondered where Dimitri had gotten painting supplies, and Dimitri answered the unspoken question.

“I painted on old newspapers with charcoal. Mostly the poor, for the rest didn’t want such shabby work. Then, one night, Arikel saw one drawing that I couldn’t sell. Something I did while waiting for patrons. At that point, I haven’t eaten for three days. I think she would have given me the bread anyway, but, when she saw the drawing, she went and picked up real art supplies and invited me to her Heaven,” Nikola’s opinion of Arikel rose suddenly. Was she a nice vampire then?

“She had me paint her, then, she had me bathe and eat. After which we talked, had a night of passion, and she embraced me. From then on, she insisted I was to refer to her as mother, which was really weird for me,” Nikola could imagine. It was a bit twisted, but who was he to judge?

“And that is all there is to know about Dimitri Popescu, the mortal,” Nikola didn’t agree with the statement.

“Can I see some of your memories from before that? A glimpse, at least?” Dimitri kissed Nikola’s forehead.

“Are you attempting to humanize me, Niki? To put me on the healing path like you did Vasilisa? I am not broken. And if I was, I long since healed. Long before you. Now, that is not to say I am not twisted, but I am not broken,” Nikola nodded at that. Dimitri respected himself too much to hate himself. Nikola was happy for him.

“How did you fit in with other vampires?” Dimitri shook his head.

“I didn’t. I wasn't concerned about the beast, and I killed. First those who had watched me starve, and then random people. My beast was a roaring thing when I met you, the first time,” Nikola remembered being gripped by the throat and bitten and then a knife to his stomach. He shuddered. That had been his most horrifying death. Perhaps because he hadn’t realized it was one, back then.

“Did you attempt to mend things before our last life together? At least once?” If Dimitri had, would the Nikola of back then have forgiven him. When he had all his memories?

“I was angry. At you, and then, when you brought back Uriel, and he became twisted, at him too. Angry is sugar coating it, too. So, no. I stubbornly attempted to destroy you. But now that is over,” Dimitri hugged Nikola tighter and closed his eyes.

“Do you promise?” Whispered Nikola into Dimitri’s skin.

“I promise. As long as you promise to take some consoling with me every day. And for us to never part,” Nikola kissed the skin underneath his lips.

“I promise. And Dimitri, I am sorry,” there were too many things to be sorry for, so, Nikola didn’t bother naming them all.