Occasionally, Dimitri did have it in him to wonder what he had done to make Ana despite him with such a feverish intensity; it might have been the complete clash in their social structures. He came from a world so different from her own; the Russian Bratva had been born and bred in him, and deep down, Dimitri knew that made him different from normal New Yorkers. But while Ana Kansuya might have resented and despised Dimitri for facets of his upbringing that he simply could not help, he had chosen long ago to give into the friction between them rather than oppose or reject it. He cared very little whether people liked or disliked him, and he supposed Ana could be added to the list.
If only they hadn’t slept together. It made things unbearably awkward from time to time, whenever they ran into each other.
“You’d rather me bleed out than extract the wound yourself?” he asked with a cock of his head, his brows furrowed together in mild bemusement and concern. He knew it was awkward running into people you’d once been intimate with, and he knew that their personalities were far too strikingly different to ever mesh well properly together, but it was still interesting to watch the way Ana reacted to him; almost as though Dimitri were poisonous–a sort of ailment she couldn’t escape, no matter how fervently she tried. “I thought I was perfectly clear in what I meant; my apologies if you missed the class on ‘metaphors’ in eighth grade, but perhaps I could teach it to you one afternoon.” Deciding that sounded too much like asking to run into her again, Dimitri amended his statement. “Of course, you could always use context clues for inference. I’ll leave the extended metaphors out of the conversation for now, but really, Ana, do try to keep up. And how would you know how special I am? Despite our little hump and dump, you don’t seem to know enough about me to make such a statement.”
“My entire demeanor is based on the fact that I have little time for irritants, and yet you continue to find yourself stepping into my path–why is that, little Kansuya?” he demanded, taking a step towards her smoothly. People were milling about them on the street, a few casting wary glances in their directions as Dimitri narrowed his gaze in the younger woman’s direction. “Just what about me unraveled you so thoroughly that even the mere thought of my existence has you wanting to crawl out of your skin?”
If her brain and her heart could just stop for a minute. Stop comparing every man she’s ever met to him, maybe Ana could not hate Dimitri for anything other than the fact that he was associated, no, the prince of the Russian Mafia. That was just the cherry on top of it all, that Ana, a girl affiliated with the Italian Mafia, slept with someone from the Russians. Even if Ana’s ties were small at best, the Italians had been nothing but welcoming to her, providing her protection from whatever skeletons and ghosts that haunted her from her past. It wasn’t even a concrete threat, but Ana could rely on the mafia to help her as she helped in whatever way she could.
And of course, she slept with one of the enemies as a thank you. There were a few time in her life Ana wished she was a lot smarter than she was.
But there were so many little things and one big thing that made Ana hate Dimitri, and there was nothing he could do about it, not that Ana would want him to do it. “Are you really asking that?” she said, her eyebrows cocking. “You don’t get to lecture me on grammar if you’re asking me if I would hypothetically help you versus let you suffer.”
She held her breath, even as he invaded her space and there was nothing to breathe in but his scent. Dimitri’s natural scent mixed in with probably some expensive cologne or laundry detergent, or whatever it was that coated him surrounded her but Ana couldn’t leave the bubble. “I don’t ask for the world to put me on your path, Dimitri,” she said, looking straight at him. “I don’t like you because you are the opposite of the man I would want to be with, but the fact that I actually didn’t have a horrible time with you the first time makes my skin crawl. So feed your ego with that, I guess. There’s no point in my lying.”