Dr. Dmitri Khalfani

On the run from his Alpha, Dmitri is a genius with no place to call home.

[lionheartmarlene]

When he opened the door she kept a keen eye on him, watching him for signs of being too exhausted or any other of a plethora of problems that might have befallen him. She worried about him almost without thinking about it, the affection she felt for him as natural to her as breathing. For all intents and purposes, he was her brother and she would always be loyal to her family. “Crime waits for no-one.” She reminded him, closing the door behind her and crouching besides the bomb to look t over the best she could. She didn’t doubt Dmitri’s skills in making it in the slightest, it was just for such a specific job and a rather important one.

Marlene glanced over to him as he sat down, smiling easily at the sight of him. For all his own faults and habits, the life of being a college professor seemed to suit him well. It was just a pity that she didn’t believe it was what he should be doing and maybe that was why she asked him to build her bombs and continue to dip his toe into the kind of life he’d tried so hard to get away from.

“I can stay for a little bit, but I’m not helping you grade papers. None of that shit means anything to me.” She grinned, dropping onto the sofa, not being able to resist looking over to attempt to read one of the papers. Curiosity extended into her picking up one of the ones he’d already marked, making a face even as she just read the title. “I don’t understand how you do this shit every day for months. It’s boring and genuinely complete gibberish.” A thought occurred and she pulled her wallet out of one of her pockets. “Oh, how much do I owe you for the bomb?”

[dmitri-x]

It was nice to hear she wanted to stay, and he smiled gently at the butterfly flutter of happiness that filled him. Though, Dmitri had a deadpanned expression down to an art form. Most of those closest to him knowing they would quite literally need to twist his arm to get him to express anything remotely solid. So he kept his feelings to himself, wrinkling his nose at her comment on the school work. 

“You just made yourself sound ridiculous,” he commented dryly, smoke billing out his nose while his scripted handwriting moved along the corner of a paper. “Chemistry runs into every vein of our profession. I look forward to Sev and I speaking gibberish for you next time we are working together. Maybe I can actually establish a new language--”

He was smiling lazily, not looking to pick a fight but did find your words dissatisfying. It was always this level of superiority that reminded Dmitri why he didn’t entirely want to give up the life he forged for himself outside the family. All the drugs they made were created from chemistry. That bomb she so desperately wanted was only forged because of his extensive knowledge of the subject paired with molecular knowledge to volatile substances. And yet he was the one in the boring life because he didn’t take barbaric satisfaction out of taking a life. He was never enough.

“I don’t want any money,” he responded, “I crafted most of the supplies from things I have gathered in my warehouse over the years. The only thing was my time, and well-- the fact I didn’t blow myself up was a plus. Just fill my fridge-- you know I am terrible at making food choices.”

[purebloodperfection]

Narcissa noticed how Dmitri tugged at his sleeves, “Would you like anything to drink? I can ask the receptionist to make us some coffee.” This was one of the few people who the lawyer truly worried about. She went out of her way to make him comfortable, knowing that they had grown up with the same feeling of being unwanted. 

“Now that you offer, would you mind slipping some purgation into his food while he isn’t looking? It will make for a very funny deal tomorrow.” While Narcissa enjoyed joking this way, she knew Dmitri would never do it. He was the only person as clean as she was, which made their bond very different from that of Marlene and Al. “You are probably enjoying the lab time then? Almost like working in court, just more siency.”

[dmitri-x]

Dmitri hid everything about his life really well. It was a his loner personality, mixed with his need to not divulge any of his business to anyone less his Father. And even then sometimes Alastair had to ring it out of him. The fact Narcissa thought so highly of him made him feel fake. Especially when he had just build a bomb for Marlene cause she asked him too, and he had a toe in the drug trade with Severus. He seemed good on paper. Two doctorates. A tenor professor at twenty five. 

He laughed a little. The sound rare, and always generously given to Narcissa.

“I am-- always enjoying the college students,” he responded with a soft smile. Not lying in that statement in the least. He did love his job. “You realize I could literally make anything you wanted to happen undetectable in his glass.” It was another tease, but still he was truthful. “Maybe we can make him gassy with a special compound that would probably put him out of a few important meetings unless she wants to enter the room while suffering under such ailments.”

[lionheartmarlene]

Luckily for Marlene, and subsequently for Dmitri, she wasn’t doing anything illegal when her phone went off with a bright and cheery tone that seemed entirely out of place as it echoed around the mostly empty flat and Marlene tried to stem the flow of blood from her leg. A stray sharp metal pipe had been in her way when she’d made an exit from her last client and although it seemed determined not to stop bleeding, she was certain it wasn’t bad enough that she needed to go and see Dorcas. She swore as she realised just how much blood had got onto her jacket and she tossed the black leather away in frustration, managing to find a bandage somewhere in the apartment and wrapping it sufficiently that she was no longer in danger of wrecking the rug. It was then that she actually picked up the texts, grinning when she saw that they were from Dmitri instead of just being more work. 

[ sms: dmitri ] you’re the best [ sms: dmitri ] i’ll be there soon

It didn’t take her long to change the bloodied jeans she’d been wearing, though the jacket posed a slightly bigger problem. Until a glance to the side showed her that Severus had apparently left without his. She slipped it on, deciding to wait until she got to Dmitri’s to see if there were any hidden goodies in the pocket, grabbed her phone and left the flat, heading straight to Dmitri’s on her bike. 

Marlene trotted up the steps after making sure her bike was secure, knocking on the door as she wondered again why he hadn’t given her a key before she reminded herself that he didn’t have a key to her place, so surprise shouldn’t be the immediate thought on her mind.

[dmitri-x]

Dmitri had a bright neon purple marker in his hand, holding it out like it was his smoke over the one precariously hovering against his lips while he circled and graded lap reports. This was surprisingly his favorite part about teaching. No students around-- no peer pressure-- or need to appear a certain way in front of him. Just their work. Pure thought and discovery without all the emotions attached to their actual person. He could hear each voice as he read through them. Saw their mannerisms clear as if they were plopped on the couch with him. Or maybe the hash he had picked up had been laced with a little extra. 

He shrugged, and yawned when the knock came. Moving up to open the door. 

“Hey--” he yawned again, covering his mouth with the back of his hand while shuffling back towards the large leather couch. “I am actually grading papers less the code line.” Dmitri chuckled, “next time you have me build you that--” he nodded towards the bomb tucked safely by the door. “Make sure it’s not when my students are in the mists of pure panic to upcoming finals.” 

It was a joke. Dmitri could build a bomb while critiquing someone’s report and find the time for a few other things. He plopped back on the couch, kicking his feet up on the corner of the table that wasn’t covered in papers. 

“Are you staying? Or just picking it up?” it was asked carefully, not wanting to give away that he always enjoyed company but always found himself quite alone.

[scorneddaughter-blog]

Keep reading

[dmitri-x]

“I know I didn’t,” he murmured as a deep rumbled noise in his throat as lips brushed against the thick skin there. His pulse quickened naturally. Making the muscles along his thighs tighten in a squirm as the whirl and drag of nails to his scalp made him near boneless. He sighed. A lazy smile falling comfortably, dragging his calloused palm across her abdomen when she crowded a different way. Warm breath brushing in refusal to tell him against his cheek.

“No hostages,” he chuckled imagining that was hilarious. His Father would blow up the city if someone attempted something so foolish-- it would be very amusing to the genius. “And I am always sad, not just here. Boring news your friends have worked up,” he admitted turning his head so he could capture his lips to hers in a deep kiss. His parting lingered. Ghosting contact but not taking anymore. He could feel urges recede like the tide. Gretchen always the one who can rid it the quickest, which was why he was just as curious about her. Why he came here.

“Maybe ask the right questions and you’d get somewhere with me,” he offered, a different relaxed high enveloped his shoulders to relax. His arm still carefully wrapped around her middle but not imposing. 

[dmitri-x]

@lionheartmarlene​ Dmitri’s House

The sun danced across the living room this time of day. Little specks of dust floated in the loft space, rolling in a lazy shape when he blew a line of smoke it’s way. He was relaxed on the couch. Limbs spread out in a lazy position, all across the coffee tabled lied stacks of papers. Final’s were being prepped soon, and all the last quarter of their semester has been lab reporting. He didn’t care if the scent of weed clung to their work, but found getting through it always required at least a casual high. 

He pulled out his phone, balancing the smoke against his lip. 

[sms : marlene] grading papers

He text with simplistic delivery, knowing she’d understand what he was actually asking without putting anything into a text claiming his intentions. He took a long hit, sitting up to pick up a paper and leaned back with a relaxed groan. 

Dmitri eyed the small package near his door before he started grading. It was dangerous to keep a fucking homemade bomb in his home, but he had it in a special built container to maintain the blast radius should it happen to go off. At least he tested that part out, not wanting Marlene to get hurt because of something faulty. Dmitri attempted always to keep one foot firmly out of their family business, but it was terribly hard. He helped where he could-- when he wanted too. That was what his family had to deal with. 

[sms : marlene] your present for your friend is wrapped [sms : marlene] stop by?

[dmitri-x]

Dmitri’s Home -- mafia au week

Details:

Rooms: Three bedrooms, two baths

Private back deck

Owned for Six Years

Lives alone

[scorneddaughter-blog]

          “If this is a game, then it’s the longest, most boring game I’ve ever played.” The two of them together were an extraordinarily stubborn duo, and if this were a game, Gretchen was certain that neither of them would give up. Granted, she didn’t have much to lose - but neither did he. She’d find someone else to dance for when he came in and he’d find someone else to dance for him. But the challenge of finally seeing some sort response to anything she did was a challenge she didn’t care to give up so easily.

          Her hips rolled against his as her digits skimmed back up his chest and over his arms, resting for a moment at his wrists. “The human approach?” she repeated, looking upwards in thought. She wrapped fingers around his wrists and moved his hands to her waist. “Well, for one, don’t look like you’re about to doze off.” There was a nudge from her to raise his hands, guiding him upward but taunting him with a stop just below her thin bralette. 

          “Don’t get me wrong, I love when men I deal with shut their fat mouths and sit back and enjoy what they’ve spent hard-earned money on, but every time you’re here, you appear so disimpassioned and miserable that the girls and I have started making stories up about who in your family died this time. Do you even enjoy coming here? I mean, I know you do; I’ve felt that before. But are you being paid to come here? Is someone holding your family hostage unless you come here?” Sitting back, she pulled her hair up and nodded towards the scanty bralette. “You ought to get rid of that.”

[dmitri-x]

The pressure under his palms was enticing as she inhaled around her taunting words. Each rib expanded gently, a familiar motion signally life-- it was morbid over sexy. Dmitri’s mind always traveled to other places, ones people didn’t want to go with him. With a flutter of lashes he could transport himself internally. Open a vault of information and pluck out anything, and everything he’s ever read. He imagines such a place was organized in large, medieval tomes. Scrolls scripted in half drying inks that were closed with wax seals to give him organization. Dmitri could slip there now, leave this room entirely while holding a conversation with her. But he didn’t tonight. His attentions crashed. A tremor hitting the edges of his fingertips because-- “you have it all wrong as I expected.” 

He said it softly but with great bite because it was Gretchen and she could take it. Dmitri could imagine their spun tales. Why the man walked in here to drink in silence, never with anyone. A distant expression always filled out on his face until they led him back here out of pity-- curiosity-- eagerness to learn the truth. He opened his eyes, unclasping what she wanted while examining her exposed skin with a clinical eye. 

“I am not paid to come here,” he felt a different thirst make his veins hot. Not the lust teasing him to let this unfold, but for the addiction he was fighting with every ticking second on the clock. He swallowed thickly. The new scars along his arms wouldn’t stay hidden for long...and he knew he needed this distraction because if he didn’t he’d go somewhere to give him what he wants.

“There is nothing elaborate to it. What lures you to me then? Over eager to know the real story?”

[dmitri-x]

[severssnpe-blog]

“How about I give you the old beakers and you can break them up for us, hmm?” Severus thought that the old beakers were still serviceable but as long as he wasn’t the one paying he wasn’t complaining. “Of course.” He nodded, his tone sympathetic with just a hint of mocking. “Although you might not stay twenty steps ahead for long. You know that scene from Freddy’s Dead with the PSA? You know the one with the eggs? ‘This is your brain on drugs’? And then Freddy hits him in the face with the frying pan? That could be you if you’re not careful. Frying pan boy.”

Severus shrugged. “I was probably just gonna watch something on Netflix. Nothing fancy.” Mari Kart and food did sound tempting. After several moments of deliberation he shrugged again. “Alright, I’m in. But I’m Mario. What are we ordering, pizza? Make it Pizza Hut if we’re going for pizza - the garlic bread’s good.”

[dmitri-x]

Dmitri rolled his eyes, and waved off his minor intervention and examples. The scientist knew everything happening to him down to a molecular level and it didn’t sway his need for it. He had gotten clean on a couple occasions...but he slipped up again a few months ago. Dmitri hoped Severus would keep such a thing a secret between them because if his dad found out he was using again Dmitri wasn’t sure he’d survive another round of fighting. Not that it was anyone’s problem but his own. That much he knew-- but he couldn’t help it. It was a problem, this lurking addiction shifted and transformed into various things. If it wasn’t the drugs it would be something else-- worse even. Maybe. Dmitri found a strange comfort in knowing his limits with the controlled substances he was more than familiar with than slipping into the unknown. 

“Pizza-- wow. You are so boring. Why am I friends with such a boring person? Haven’t I taught you anything about free food?” He tossed his hands up playfully, already pulling out his phone and the credit card with his name on it. “We can order that because it sounds great, but we should make some fancy restaurant bring us food even if they don’t deliver. Have a little fun. Try some weird shit.” He typed on the app while he talked. 

“Seriously though, everything is good right? No one poking their nose into the business?”

[scorneddaughter-blog]

6th April, 2016 12:15am @dmitri-x

          Hazy smoke and pink lights. The typical night for Gretchen consisted of this, accompanied by an assortment of people, mostly older. peculiar men. It was rare that she met anyone she took a liking to in these situations. In fact, it had happened a total of one time. Dmitri Khalfani was a somewhat regular customer, and anytime he was around, Gretchen was quick to slip off stage, take him by the hand, and lure him into a private room.

          This was the very thing she’d done tonight, a Wednesday of all nights. A lounge chair and a thin, corner lamp were the only furniture within; she eased him down onto the chair with a push of a finger, following him down and placing her hands on his chest. Silence… silence… silence… as she met his lips with hers - a bold move and one many of the girls refrained from doing due to warning from the other girls who’d been at this longer (some men simply didn’t handle it very well). 

          “You’re back,” she breathed, hooking either leg over both of his, “You know what I love about statues? How still they are. You can expect them to be still every time you see them. Humans, however,” her hands roamed a little lower, tips of fingers smoothing over the hem of his trousers, “Move. All the fucking time. You can’t get them to stay still. In my profession, though, I unfortunately find humans a bit more enjoyable to work with than statues. So, if you’re feeling at all up to it, I’d like for you to be a human tonight, and not a statue.”

[dmitri-x]

Her kiss was met with a lazy approach, lounging back. His eyes closed in a relaxed high. Sharing the taste of cigarettes and weed lingering on chapped lips. Dmitri had his vices. That was the problem with everything for him. How during the day time he was in sweaters and taught over eager college students theories in chemistry and genetics (when he took on extra classes). Now, he was in old clothes, blending into the poorly lit background like he slept right there on the floor. The long sleeve shirt stolen from Severus closet months ago and never gave it back didn’t fit his frame right but he took comfort where he could get it. 

“Sounds like you are giving up on this game we have been playing forever,” he drawled out, Dmitri not aroused nor affected by her words as always. The reasons for him being here went deeper-- always deeper just no one ever realized it.

 “What would you consider the human approach to reach your level of enjoyment?” He emphasized the word your with a quirked grin, tilting his head back to rest it along the back of the chair, situating his legs out to bare weight if necessary but appearing as if he’d rather take a nap than have her in his lap. Yet he did always come back didn’t he? Just like said. 

[severssnpe-blog]

Now run, run away from the boys in the blue, Oh, my car smells like chocolate —– now you’re never gonna quit it If you don’t stop smoking it

{ @dmitri-x }

[severssnpe-blog]

Severus looked up from record player in the living room. “How did you- you know what? Never mind.” He could only assume that one of the other residents in the building had let Dmitri in. Severus made a note to keep the door locked in future. “A box.” He deadpanned, beginning to rifle through the crate of vinyls for something to put on. “You can put it on the table over there. Give me sec and I’ll have a look.” Finding the vinyl he was looking for he put it on the player, dropping the needle.

“Honestly, it’s a miracle they haven’t caught you yet.” Standing up, he crossed over to where his friend leant against the table. Carefully pushing the tissue paper out of the way, he raised an eyebrow. “Beakers? Oh, you shouldn’t have.” He drawled, picking one up and inspecting it.

“Yeah, sure. I wasn’t planning on going down to the garages today. Figured a day off was in order.”

[dmitri-x]

“Good, clean beakers are important. And the next cook you should be sure to get rid of all the old ones. Just break them up, I’ll take those to work and document them as a loss so the books stay balanced,” he waggled his brows teasingly, Dmitri got a small rush from operating stolen supplies from the college for Severus. “I won’t get caught. My big brain keeps twenty paces ahead of them. No school official is brilliant enough to work it out, it’s quite impossible. I have thought of every angle to keep this safe.” 

Dmitri pondered that statement. Scratching the back of his neck. The FBI would probably be, but they had to have reason to look, which would take the school to notice which is where he was confident he could keep it well hidden in paperwork. “What are you going to get into? Want to smoke and play Mario Kart? We could order a bunch of greasy, bad food with my dad’s card.”

[purebloodperfection]

“Dmitri!” Narcissa beamed up as the man walked in, “You are a grace sent straight from heaven.” Her smiled broadened even more when she saw what he had brought her. The air around them filled with the sweet aroma of cinnamon and icing sugar, “I get to see you and eat a cinnamon bun in one day? I couldn’t care less for a reason even if you asked me to join Al in a heist,” she looked up from where she rummaged through the bag, her face serious, “not that I’m giving my permission to do that.” While Narcissa knew Dmitri was the good child, she also knew how badly he wanted Alastair’s approval. getting her to agree something would not be beyond him if it would help Al.

“I’ve been… Busy. case upon case upon case. And Malfoy isn’t helping things on.” The last part she growled, irritation for her rival clear in her voice. “And you? Have the students not managed to drive you crazy yet?”

[dmitri-x]

“Heaven? Really?” he flashed a devilish smile that somehow softened the hard lines of his features. At her continued words he shook his head, “nahhh, that suggestion won’t come from me unless it was quite necessary too.” He scratched at his wrist, tugging down his sleeves before he too was struck with the smell of cinnamon and bread. It relaxed him being around Cissa. Never having grown up knowing his mother after his parents were killed...he sometimes sought people like her that were trustworthy of their business. Someone he could feel normal with... hear compliments like she was already giving out. 

“Malfoy again? I think he wants to take me out to dinner this week--something about a scheduling issue with my Father,” he shrugged, settling into one of her chairs. “If you want me to do anything to him while I’m there--” he laughed before he could finish it-- not being serious entirely. I mean. Dmitri would probably do anything for Narcissa if she really wanted him too. “They aren’t too bad this year. I didn’t take up so many classes to teach. Focusing on a few research projects that require more lab time than I can afford to give up.”

[gerwulfalpha]

To say Al had had a bad day would be a brutal understatement, a bad week more like it. And not business-wise, oh no, business was just peachy as per usual. The thing was Dmitri had been missing for the entire weekend and while that in itself was not that much of a novelty, Alastair had been walking this Earth a little too long to know better than to doubt his instinct. Something was wrong. Obviously wrong. For a number of reasons  - for one his son, unlike him, was not much of a party animal so such escapades weren’t any party or hook-up that got accidentally extended; secondly, Dmitri had been acting odd again as of late, avoiding all sorts of conversations on the topic and with certain individuals Alastair had had to handle as an emergency, he hadn’t quite found the time to pry whatever it was out of his son properly; thirdly… well, Dmitri did have a history with drugs and not of the good kind. All the above, naturally, led the older man to not worry per say but be at least concerned at best.

But seeing as he had flatly refused to baby Dmitri in any shape or form since he had been nine, Al had resorted to the next most logical step - taking his mind off stuff via stripers, maybe cocaine (should he dial up Evan? or maybe Luc? was Molly in town? hmmm…). Currently, the girl sitting in his lap, however, was not proving to be much of a distraction, maybe because strawberry blonde had never really been his thing or maybe because he was simply not letting himself relax? Yep, that was probably it.

Just when he was about to force his mind back on to the blonde, the buzz of his phone reached his ears. Fuck. As much as he’d hate to get even more distracted, something told him to have a look, which he did, much to the girl’s disapproval, expressed in a pout of surgically enchanced lips.

Double fuck.

Swiftly, he pushed the blonde off him, throwing a hundred dollars on the table in front of her bewildered state before taking his suit jacket and leaving. “Pick up, you lil shit”, he cursed under his breath as Dmitri’s phone range for a bit with no reply. This was not something Al would text over, that much was given.

[dmitri-x]

The vibrating cellphone startled him from the daze still fogging his mind. The device barely maintained a battery life but how it screamed loudly in the quiet house against the dirty floors of the kitchen. Dmitri stared at it move. Each ring sending the plastic into a tailspin. Bright white light blaring DAD on the screen. The phone sent it to voice mail– Dmitri noticing the fourteen missed calls from the weekend add a tick into the fifteen. A nasty taste settled on his tongue, his empty stomach quivering and sending him to glance down by whoever was sleeping in the kitchen. 

The scent of weed clung in the small space near the cabinet, but it was the small stash tucked by the man’s side that had something dark in him twist in want. He reached out for the pipe, inspecting what was partially cooked in there before he enclosed his fist around it. He was smart enough to know what was actually running the show right now. His mind reeled to organize all the research he’s done on the substances. Knew the chemical compounds. How they were affecting his brain, dulling his senses into a world of fake euphoria. He was nineteen and having being in college since he was sixteen, Dmitri always was way ahead of everyone. But what no one understood was how loud his brain was…relaxing was forever difficult, and he was already working himself to the bone. He took a hit. Lit the bottom of the bowl against the crystal with a spare lighter from his pocket were a pack of crunched up cigarettes resided. Dmitri inhaled the smoke quickly in a guilty desperate move, feeling himself relax against the cabinets.

The phone buzzed again, and it made him jump back to reality for a few blissful seconds. Stirring awake the person next to him who shoved him harshly away. Dmitri appeared confused where he was. A sense of Deja vu igniting familiar repetitions from minutes before but not realizing how he had gotten out here. His brows furrowed, trying to jump start his brilliant mind to work out what was happening, but he could only hear the vibrating of the device on the tile. The harsh light reminding him who was on the other end. DAD– twenty missed calls.

The nineteen year old weakly wrapped his fingers around the phone, crawling up the side of the cabinets until he was some what standing. Sliding his finger on the screen out of muscle memory to answer. He just breathed a distant “‘ello I’m…fine papa,” in German in the phone before it dropped to the floor with a hard clap of plastic to hardwood. “Shit–” he enclosed his hand back around it before bringing to his face. His stomach groaned in hunger pains again, but he ignored the weakness to his limbs. How much he wobbled to bruise his shoulders towards the back bedroom through the haze clinging to fog his brain into a distorted need for dangerous, lethargic sleep. Nails dragged for support along chipping wallpaper until he collapsed where he had been before. The musky mattress invaded his inhale, phone still near his ear as he fell into silence.

[purebloodperfection]

April 4, 2016 Narcissa’s Office Open

Narcissa frowned at the document in front of her, trying to make sense of its contents. She held her hand up when a figure appeared at the door and finished reading before saying, “How may I help?” 

[dmitri-x]

“Afternoon,” Dmitri walked in with a soft smile, and waved a familiar bag in his hand. “I was in the area and figured you could use a pick me up. Your favorite if I recall right.” He set the treat bag on the edge of her desk, “It’s not a bribe, though I feel as if my Father would have wanted it to be out of opportunity am I right?” He chuckled, clearly making a joke he wasn’t good at making. 

“I just wanted to see you. How have you been?”

[dmitri-x]

@itswitchery College Teacher Break room

“This coffee...” he grumbled around the rim of the cup, not enjoying the bitter taste but needing to wake the fuck up. He had a late night in the lab and a headache had been lingering for a few days now in refusal to give him a break. He knew why he was having one. That his fingers trembled just enough to tease him into wanting things to stop the racing feeling always enabled in his body. Dmitri wanted the world to crash to a stop, and yet he was here in the break room in the morning grading papers while some woman whines in the corner about her children not napping. 

He rolled his eyes. “Good morning,” he lifted his eyes to Minerva, “well, as good as it’s going to get. What are you doing here so early?” 

[dmitri-x]

@gerwulfalpha

His stomach growled. Could feel the tightened pressure of hunger compress angrily around his middle. He moaned in frustrations into his pillow, willing it to go away because he wanted to sleep more. To go back into the dream he had been lingered in for an unknown amount of time. His lips parted, dry skin catching along his tongue-- a cotton taste making his throat quiver and demand he drink some water. Dmitri didn’t know how many days he had been laying here. A handful? One? He groaned again-- fingers curling into the sheets. Stretching all his limbs as the world in the unknown place he was laying in rushed to a frightening reality. 

“Oh shit--” he tried to sit up but managed to only slam his head against the edge of a table. Attempting with more failure than success to push his weakened body up from the dirty mattress. His head swirled from his lack of proper nutrients. Once more feeling the stinging awareness of his thirst cling to the back of his throat to make his words feel strained. “Come on get up...”

Dmitri managed to leave the room he had ended up in. Someone’s house he didn’t actually know-- stepping over a couple people he stumbled into the kitchen to drink from the sink. The cold water stopping the cramping in his stomach. Getting home would be the challenging part alongside explaining his absence all weekend. Morning dusted the sky in hues to remind him that he had to be at the college in no less than eight hours, so he swallowed his pride. Knowing he was about to make a mistake-- but also he couldn’t stand or make it out of the kitchen. Having sloped down onto the floor next to someone sleeping. Feeling blood from the cut now marking his forehead drip down between his brows. Guilt clawed in anxiety in his chest. He pulled out his phone confirming the five am time.

[sms: dad] i fucked up again [sms: dad] im sorry... [sms: dad] i dont know where i am