pretty play

three

i think of what the reporters would call me and rowan.

and suddenly i don't know if i want to tell him anymore. i cant risk rowan being hurt and everything is going so good for me right now.

but then, rowan should have a father figure, dimitri should know he has a son.

my head is spinning so i shut off my lamp and close my eyes.

it's been over four years since i've dreamt about dimitri levin.

but last night i did.
and i recall what happened in the dream very well.

dimitris hand glides up my bare abdomen...

he finds the sweet spot on my neck...

i throw my head back, gripping his hair...

i shudder as the dream floods back to me and i'm probably beet red.

instead of relishing my thoughts, i decide to get rowan up.

walking into his room, i don't shut the lights on, my mom always did that to me as a kid and now i'm not considered a morning person.

i walk over to the edge of his bed and i crouch down, gently playing with his hair.

"пора вставать, любовь моя." i whisper and he stirs a bit, his lashes fluttering.
(time to get up, my love.)

i gently shake him one last time and his eyes open, looking directly at me.

he smiles and wraps his arms around my neck, hugging me.

"good mornin' mama." he whispers and i giggle.

this will never get old. i think back to these little moments and they make me remember how much i love being a mom.

"good morning baby, how did you sleep?" i ask and he pulls away, a sweet smile resting on his face.

"i sleep good mama."

"that's good, let's get up, come on." i say and he nods, sitting up in his little bed.

i grab the clothes i picked out for him and i get him ready for the day as always.

when we make it out to the living room i ask rowan what he wants to eat for breakfast and today he has requested scrambled eggs.

he watches the tv while i focus on his food, and i hear my phone ring.

grabbing it, i don't bother to look at the caller id before pressing the answer button.

i rest my phone on my shoulder so i can use both hands to cook.

"hello?"

a deep breath is harshly sucked in and i take the phone in my hands, glancing at the id, it's a random number.

"who is this?" i ask, growing worried.

"nadia." a rich, russian accent drawls in and im stuck in place. i cant move or breath.

"dimitri." i whisper.

"nadia, it's nice to hear your voice." he says, my voice nearly gives out.

"dimitri."

"that's my name, no?"

"why are you calling me?" i manage to get out, i already know his answer.

"you know, nadia." i called it. maybe it's the way he repeatedly says my voice, or how he says it, but god do i want to make that dream real right now.

it's been four years since well, you know.

"i don't think i do." i whisper, causing him to heave a sigh.

"i want you to be honest with me nadia, do i have a son?"

a/n- CLIFFHANGER AGAIN HAHA
no but i'm so in love with andrei svechnikov it's not funny.

hi kendra