V

I would like to say that my romance with Ivan ended with that drunken, reckless night… but it was only the beginning.

I woke up unsure of where I was. Slowly the pieces came together in my head: Ivan was sleeping next to me, and I wasn't wearing any clothes.

I was horrified.

I had slept with my master! Not only that, but I had been completely drunk and didn't remember any of it! What if he had done it on purpose - intoxicated me so that he could take advantage of me? But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I was less paranoid about Ivan's intentions, and more frustrated that I had been too drunk to remember anything. What if he never slept with me again? What if he was just using me before moving onto someone else? Last night could very well have been the best night of my life, and no matter how hard I tried, it was all a blank blur.

I woke Ivan when I rose to get dressed. I glanced his way, but he didn't look at me. We pulled on our clothes in an awkward silence. Ivan called a footman. We waited, neither of us saying a word or even looking at each other. The entire carriage ride I kept glancing in his direction, trying to get some kind of clue as to what he was thinking. But Ivan only bent over with his hands clasped between his knees, his brow creased as he stared intensely at the opposite wall. I worried, but I hoped that he was only collecting his thoughts.

When we arrived at the mansion and walked through the door, he finally turned to me. "The downstairs dining room is dusty. See to it that it is clean by this afternoon."

My jaw dropped. I just stared at him, unable to even manage a "Yes, sir." Ivan didn't wait for a response, turning on his heel and quickly disappearing into the halls.

I stood there alone in the foyer and commanded myself not to cry.

What did I expect? Of course he would just use me for his own pleasure and then throw me aside like the slut I was. That's all I was to him: His servant, his territory, a cute boy at his disposal. I ran to the shower, scrubbing my body furiously. With each rinse I hated him more.

Ivan didn't come to dinner that night. I rarely saw him, and when I did he never made eye-contact. It broke my heart. The worst part was that Eduard and Raivis knew exactly what I had done. It created an entire new level of tension between us, and I felt more alienated than ever before.

By the third night, I was on the verge of another breakdown. I began to consider running away - back to Feliks, who would love me for who I was, not for what I did in bed. I didn't even care of the consequences - I couldn't stay in this hellish mansion any longer.

The third night, I had the unlucky task of bringing Ivan his night tea. I knocked on the door, feeling a heavy weight on my chest. "Your tea, sir."

There was a long pause. At last a deep voice, "Come in."

My muscles seized. Normally Ivan came to the door to get his tea. Part of me screamed to leave, the other part was too angry to miss this opportunity. I wanted answers.

I pushed open the door and stepped into his room. It was dark - I searched for him, then there was a movement and the door shut behind me. I jumped, and the tea tray fell to the floor with a crash.

"Šūdas!" I cursed. I made to open the door for light, but a large hand stopped me. I froze. I could feel his entire body towering over me in the dark, his hand over mine. I could feel the rhythm of his breathing, I smelled the crisp scent of vodka and sunflowers. In the darkness, and with the hint of my fear, my senses were sharpened. It was just Ivan, all around me, filling my lungs. His presence was so overwhelming that I couldn't force myself to move. We stayed there for what seemed like eternity.

"I - " Ivan seemed to be trying to say something, but he couldn't get out the words. "I'm sorry."

I was completely caught off guard by this. It was one of the few times he would ever apologize to me.

"I - I shouldn't have taken you. The alcohol…" My vision had adjusted enough to see him clench his fist. "It was fun at the time. But I do not want this for you. For us."

My heart sped up. Us?

"I…" Ivan swallowed. He looked at me intensely in the darkness. "I cannot name what I feel for you. But you are very, very important to me. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want you to think - that I would…" There was a new thickness in his voice, and with shock I realized that he was on the verge of tears. "I'm not like that," he whispered, desperate for me to believe him.

There were a thousand questions I wanted to ask, but came out was, "What are we?"

"I…I don't know…" Another long pause. "Do you… do you remember?"

"No."

His voice lowered to a whisper as he leaned over my shoulder, his breath tickling my ear. "Would you like to remember?"

An entire new heat washed over me. "Yes."

I remember that kiss. And the one after that. And after that. I remember each and every new and exhilarating second of that night. By the end we were chest-to-chest, our legs tangled together beneath the covers. I smiled up at him, enjoying looking into his face and threading my fingers through his hair.

"What is this feeling," he whispered, staring down at me with awe.

"In my language we call it meilė."

"Meilė," he muttered, testing the foreign word on his tongue. "Then how - how would I express this to someone?"

"We say, Aš myliu tave."

"May I tell this to you now?"

I laughed. "You don't need permission!"

Ivan looked embarrassed, as he had many times that night. When I had stopped laughing he gazed into me with those mysterious eyes, his voice soft as if saying the most important words he would ever say: "Aš myliu tave, Litva."

I felt a chill sweep down my back. Of all the years we had been together, Feliks rarely spoke my language. I ran my hand down his cheekbone, feeling the rough stubble scrape my fingertips. I smiled as I whispered, "Aš myliu tave, Ivan." And by the look in his eyes, I could tell that I was the first to ever treat him with such gentleness, and that he was more grateful than words could express.

I still look back on that night. Sometimes I wish I had never addressed Ivan as anything more than my master. Other times I find myself longing to relive that night, with the Ivan who didn't even know how to say "I love you" in his own language. With the Ivan who insisted that he wasn't "like that," and who gave me a choice. Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like had I never fallen for him. Would I have eventually gotten closer to Eduard and Raivis? Would I have run away to be with Feliks? Would I have become so lonely that I would have attempted suicide?

I will never know the answer to these questions. But what I do know is the night I fell in love with Ivan Braginsky changed my entire life.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed/favorited/followed this story! I didn't expect such great feedback, and I'm glad you're enjoying it!