Decisions Ch 10

Author's Notes: Hey guys! Sorry about the long wait. Here's an extra long chapter for you!

Chapter 1:

Iciness. Cold, desolate iciness. I was covered in blood, the red fluid splattered all over my body. There was nothing here. I stood at the middle of the field, looking around. It was all empty, devoid of life. A hateful land of wonderful winter. Yet, despite the flurry snow blowing past me and caressing me as if it were some kind of lover, I felt warm. I felt more warm than I ever have. I could've been only wearing shorts and a t-shirt and I wouldn't have been uncomfortable at all.

It was nice.

It was so nice.

I was a banner. A beacon of warmth.

"And... here we are, amigo." Ricky announced, slowing his car to a crawl and waking me up. He parked on the curb, looking at me over his shoulder. "You awake?"

"Yeah. That was a good nap. Gracias, Ricky." I replied, opening the car door.

"Need help bringing your stuff inside, Chris?" Lucy asked in concern.

"Nah, I'll be fine." I said, gingerly stepping out of Ricky's car. I hobbled onto the sidewalk, balancing on my crutches. I wasn't a stranger to the pair of medical device, but that didn't make it any less awkward. I wish I could've just done away with them, but in truth, I needed them.

Badly.

The knee injury I sustained over the weekend wasn't as bad as initially thought, but it was still bad. I was to take one week off from practice to recover. Then, I was to only do light skating and no-contact drills for another few days before upping the intensity... just in time for States.

"Will you need a ride home, bro?" Ricky asked, leaning over Jazz to look out the window at me.

"No, I'm ok." I said. "I'll probably call my parents and ask for a ride."

"Call your parents for a ride? What are you, in the eighth grade?" Jazz asked, cracking up.

"That's a bit ironic that you're saying that, considering that Ricky gives us rides everywhere." Lucy observed.

"I know right? I feel like an Uber service except I don't get paid." Ricky complained.

"I got you McDonald's that one time, didn't I?" Jazz argued.

"Yeah, like back in November!" Ricky exclaimed.

"Bye, guys." I said, waving and closing the door.

"Tell Annie I said get better!" Lucy commanded, waving at me.

Ricky honked his horn and went back to his playful bickering with Jazz as he drove away, leaving me alone on the sidewalk. I sighed in contentment. I loved my friends... especially her. I turned and faced the opulent house, hobbling up the steps to the front door.

When I arrived at the door, I leaned forward and rang the doorbell. Within seconds, I heard the door unlock and it swung open, revealing a very dark interior.

"Hello, Christopher!" Yulia greeted, giving me a warm smile. She stepped up to me and gave me a hug before stepping to the side, gesturing for me to get out of the cold. "Come in, come in!"

"Hi, Yulia." I chirped, hobbling into the familiar darkened house that was my second home. "How's Stasi feeling?"

"She's feeling better than she did this morning, although the fever hasn't broken yet." Yulia replied. "I took her off her medication so she could sleep. The last time I checked on her, she was still asleep. As a matter of fact, she's been napping all day. The flu must be really bad this time around. Did you have a good day at school?"

"Yeah, as good as it could be without Stasi there." I admitted. I felt guilty knowing that the reason she wasn't at school was partly my fault. "I made some photocopies of today's notes so Stasi doesn't have to copy anything down. Do you want me to give them to you?"

"Such a good boy. But nyet," Yulia said. "You'll give them to her yourself, eh? God knows how much she wanted to see you all day. You are staying the whole day, correct?"

"Da." I replied.

"Otlichno!" Yulia exclaimed, her pale face brightening. "Anastasia will be happy to see you. She was crestfallen this morning when she thought she wasn't going to see you today. Golodnyy?"

"Da," I answered. "Nemnogo."

"Good!" Yulia said, guiding me to the kitchen. "You came right on time. Come, I made Anastasia some borscht so she can get over her flu. I don't think she's eaten anything all day, poor thing. I'm just waiting for her to wake up now. Khochesh' li ty nemnogo?"

"Da, pozhaluysta." I said, smiling. I always had space in my stomach for Yulia's excellent Russian food.

When we got to the kitchen, Yulia made me sit down on a chair and take off my backpack. She tutted when she confiscated my crutches, looking at them disapprovingly and tutting.

"What?" I asked, defensively. "The doctor said I have to use them for a week. It's not like I wanted them."

"I know you didn't." Yulia said, leaning the crutches up against the wall. She turned to the massive stove, taking the lid off of a large metal pot. "I just don't like to see you hurt. None of us like to see you hurt. Bol'shoy ili malen'kiy shar?"

"Small is fine." I replied.

"Small it is." Yulia stood on her tiptoes to reach for the small bowls at the top of the rack. She retrieved it and bustled around her workspace, humming a classic Russian tune I swore that I heard before. Using a ladel, she scooped some borscht into the china bowl before setting it in front of me. I spooned some in my mouth, savoring the delightful taste of Yulia's cooking. Although it was amazing, a part of me was wondering why the soup tasted slightly metallic... unless...

Oh god.

"This is really good." I said, praying that Yulia didn't augment her soup with an SBP. I saw no reason why she'd do it. The Sokolov Family always took in their synthetic blood packs straight out of the bag. Well, except for Stasi. Stasi fed off of me, drinking real blood. Yulia knew the consequences that would occur if Stasi had a synthetic blood pack. Even if she'd had only a miniscule amount, she'd throw up. Her body was accustomed to drinking blood, my blood, and anything else simply wouldn't do for her.

"Oh, stop it, Christopher. Save your compliments for Anna. She will need the pick me up when she arises from the dead." Yulia beamed, giving me a fangy grin. She laughed when she saw my face turn red. "You've been dating for almost six months, been luchshiye druz'ya ever since your first day of kindergarten, yet you still turn red whenever we talk about you two together. You're practically attached at the hip, always finishing each other's sentences and having those wordless conversations. Why are you still so embarrassed?"

I shrugged shyly. My face was probably as red as the borscht! "I can't help it." I admitted. "I guess it had to do with all those years of you, Anton, and my parents teasing us that we would get together."

"We weren't teasing," Yulia said, propping herself on the kitchen island. "We were predicting the future! You two were practically inseparable. Attached at the hip! It's no wonder you're in love."

"Like that." I noted. "That teasing is what exactly makes me turn red."

Yulia laughed lyrically. "Oh, Christopher. When you spend years hoping for your eldest to get together with their closest friend, the only one who is able to make the other happy when they are feeling their worst, for the longest time, you earn the right to be able to make a few jests out of it."

"I guess you're right." I conceded, spooning some more soup into my mouth.

"I know I am." Yulia replied, giving me a sparkling grin.

"How's Anton?" I asked, after a moment.

"Oh, he's doing marvelous." Yulia said. "He's getting a promotion at work. He's going to take over Tarasenko's job."

"Really?" I asked.

"Da. Vasili is relocating to Washington D.C. under the orders of the Royal Family. After what happened in San Francisco last month, the family decided that they need him closer to Capitol Hill than the Golden Gate Bridge."

"That's great. Will I still have my internship with Anton?"

"Certainly." Yulia said, smiling brightly. "Anton loves having you around the office. He says you lighten up the drab atmosphere."

"I try my best." I replied modestly, spooning some more soup into my mouth.

"Did you hear back from UCLA, yet?" Yulia asked.

"Not yet, no. Decisions don't come out until early March." I mumbled. "The wait is killing us."

Yulia watched me, a soft expression on her face. She always treated me like her second son and I always treated her like my second mother. "You'll get in for sure. You and Anna both. There's no question of it. You're both brilliant students who'll get their dues. But, there is something I do want to ask. Elena tells me that you still get headaches." Yulia observed, concerned.

"How does Elena know that?" I asked, not that least bit surprised.

She was as smart as a whip, furiously loyal, just like her older sister. But Elena knew all the gossip at Belcourt. She always had a knack for knowing what was up with who. Stasi and I, not being ones to pick up a lot of gossip, would always find out about stuff last. It was infuriating. So, naturally, it was up to Elena to be our informant when it came to news at the school and we found ourselves perpetually pumping her for information.

"Come now, Christopher," Yulia chortled. "It's Elena we're talking about."

"You're right." I conceded.

"So, do you still get headaches?" Yulia asked, tilting her head.

"A little. They never stopped after I got hit in the head back in November." I admitted. There was no use lying to her. "It's not that bad though. I only get them with bright lights and loud noises."

"Bednyaga." Yulia whimpered, sympathetically. "Do you want me to turn down the lights?"

"No, it's fine. I didn't even notice they were on."

We talked until I finished my bowl of soup. When I finished debating whether or not I wanted any more, I stood up and went to hobble to the sink to wash it, but Yulia pried it from my grasp with her cold fingers and tutted. "No, no, no. I will clean it up, Christopher. Anna might be awake. Go check on her."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "I can just rinse it off."

"Yes," Yulia assured me. "I'm absolutely sure. Go do me a favor and check on Anna for me. She needs you. I'm not sure what to tell you, but today, I missed the perpetual dreamy smile that she has and her happiness. Here, bring up this glass of water for her."

I wanted to argue, but the thought of seeing the love of my life won out. After thanking Yulia, I picked up my crutches and a glass of iced water, slid my backpack on, and left the kitchen, heading upstairs to Stasi's room. I realized that I've been here so often, I could've probably navigated through the entire structure blindfolded. I knew where everything was and every minute detail that came with that. The spot where Elena slipped and fell down the stairs. That spot on the carpet where Stasi accidently spilled a glass of Baikail, Russian Pepsi, and Viktor, Stasi, and I spent the evening furiously scrubbing at it so we wouldn't get killed by her parents.

That door that lead me to the room to the love of my life. The piece of wood that always made my heart hammer in my chest every time I stood outside of it. I knocked softly and listened for any noise. When I heard nothing except for the dull thumping of quiet, muffled techno blasting from Elena's room, I quietly opened the door, peeking in.

Her room was pitch black, the curtains drawn to keep out the irritating rays of the afternoon sun. On her bed, tucked away in the corner, was Stasi. She was wearing sweatpants and a gray hoodie that looked suspiciously the same to the one I lost a few weeks ago. She looked warm, excessively so, being bundled up in all kinds of blankets. Her face was turned towards me, a thin line of drool sliding out of her mouth and onto her pillow. The only sounds I could hear was a faint and adorable snoring emanating from her open mouth, her large fangs as pronounced as ever.

I sighed in happiness, hobbling towards her bed. She must not have been asleep long. Notebooks were scattered all around her bed. Her laptop was still open and running on her comforter. I sat down on her mattress, set the glass of water on her nightstand, and leaned over her willowy body, wiggling my finger on the trackpad. The screen lit up, revealing that she was playing some video games before she fell asleep.

Kerbal Space Program to be a bit more specific.

I resisted the urge to laugh. We were addicted to that game. In the game, you were the head of a space program, designing spaceships to launch them into outer space (duh). We used to compete with each other to see who could make the better spacecraft. Hers were always insanely complex craft that got too complicated for their own good (often blowing up on the tarmac) while mine were just a hodgepodge of mismatched parts, slapped together in a futile attempt to reach the stratosphere.

I closed the laptop, setting it to the side. Stasi was still frozen in her position, her raven hair clinging to her delicate face. I reached down and tentatively touched her cold and clammy skin, brushing some tendrils of raven hair out of her face.

Her fever wasn't that bad but she must've been miserable all day. Whenever she got sick, she got really sick.

You wouldn't have known that now, though. She looked so peaceful sleeping. Over summer break, I learned that vampires not on medication naturally slept unnaturally still, almost lifeless in a way. It was only when Stasi was on medication did she fidget in bed.

Just like a human.

Yet, completely like a vampire.

My brown eyes clouded in thought as I caressed her luscious athletic and well-proportioned body through the sheets. "Hey Stasi, it's me, the Baba Yaga." I murmured softly. "You kind of left me alone at school today and made me completely miserable, but I forgive you. It's actually you that should be forgiving me since the whole reason you're sick was because we went jogging last night even though it was only a few degrees above freezing. I even have something to say to you. Maybe you're not awake to hear this, but I don't think you need to be. You already know this, but, Anastasia Sokolov, you are the most important person in my life."

"I don't care what species you are or how dangerous you think you are, you're the one for me. You're so smart, amazing, adorably clumsy, and you're so much fun to be around. You're beautiful and the epitome of perfection. You've been by my side all my life and I wouldn't have anyone else there next to me. Knowing UCLA in a couple of weeks, they'll be damned happy to have you."

I took a deep breath, continuing. "I'm so glad that it was you who decided to play legos with me on that fateful day in kindergarten and I thank my lucky stars every single day that it was you who became my best friend and the love of my life. I love you. I always have and I always will."

I bent down low to give her a soft kiss on the lips, but as my lips came close, Stasi's eyes opened in alarm. She quickly turned her blushing face, so instead of my lips making contact with her deliciously ones, I got her cool and supple cheek. When I pulled away, her face was lit up in joy and her crystal blue eyes were boring into my brown ones with an infectious glimmer.

She was absolutely beautiful.

"Stasi?" I sputtered. "You sneak! You were awake this whole time!"

"I was." She rasped with a fangy grin. "I faked being asleep, in case you didn't realize." The way her voice came out surprised me. It wasn't the silky voice accentuated by the soft Russian accent. It was a voice that sounded like she her throat was rubbed raw with sandpaper. She reached for her glasses but I stopped her.

"I got it." I told her, picking up the thick plastic glasses that made her look so cute and pretty. I gently placed it over her eyes. "Better?"

Stasi blinked and nodded.

"Did you hear every word?" I asked.

Stasi nodded, raising a cold hand and caressing my cheek. "Every amazing word that came out of your mouth." She croaked, wincing in pain when the words left her mouth.

"Hurt to talk?"

Stasi nodded, pointing to her throat.

"I'm sorry. Don't talk if it hurts that bad. Anything I can get you to make you feel better?" I questioned.

Stasi dumped her face back into her pillow so I couldn't see her blushing cheeks. She mumbled something that I couldn't quite hear.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" I asked.

Stasi popped her head up, looking up at me with one crystal blue eye. "Your attention." She mumbled, embarrassed. "And some water."

"Then attention and water, I will give." I laughed, patting her on her shapely rear. I turned to my right, picking up the glass of water. Stasi sat up in bed, her hands outstretched. I placed the glass in her hand and she greedily took a large gulp. She handed the glass back to me and dove back under the covers.

"I'm sorry your throat hurts." I said, apologetically.

Sore throats were serious business. One time, when I was younger, I had a pretty bad case of strep throat. Every time I tried to swallow, talk, or breath, it felt like someone was going ham on the inside of my throat with an axe. Stasi poked her head out of the thick cocoon of blankets and shrugged, making a 'what can you do' gesture before her eyes widened in delight. She tapped me on the arm, catching my attention.

"What?" I asked, my eyes trailing to where she was furiously pointing: the drawer of her nightstand. "You want me to open it?"

Stasi nodded, pouting.

"You don't have to give me those eyes," I laughed. "I was going to do it for you anyways. But, you look so beautiful and adorable I don't think I can take it."

I leaned over, pulling open the drawer. The interior of the drawer was organized, the contents all sorted. I didn't need Stasi's pointing to know what she wanted. What she wanted was the small pile of brightly covered pieces of paper that stuck to one another.

"Sticky notes?" I asked. "What do you want with stic... ohhhh."

I pulled out a pack of the extra large ones and a blue sharpie, closing the drawer. I handed the sticky notes to Stasi, who gave me a kiss on the cheek in thanks. She snuggled her cool body next to mine, which did wonders for my erection. I hated being a teenager sometimes. Simply being next to Stasi's soft body was cause to give me a hard-on!

With her nimble fingers, she uncapped the sharpie and scribbled something onto the sticky note, peeling it off of the pack and slapping it onto my thigh.

"I love you. I love you I love you. I love you. I'm so sorry I left you at school today. I missed you so much today. I loved what you said and I wanted to say that I loved you too. With all my heart. Except, I can't say anything without my vocal chords imploding." I read aloud, happily. "Sad face. I like how the sad face has two fangs, by the way. Interesting touch, Stasi."

We communicated like that, me talking and her writing. We talked about anything and everything, just like how we normally did. How was your day? (Brutal for me, because I missed Stasi and had to plan for the Athletic's Shrimp Feed without her. Brutal for her, because she was stuck in bed sick.) How's the knee? (Very sore.) What was the dumbest thing that Ricky did today? (Flick a spitball at Jazz during lunch but getting a poor sophomore on the face.)

We went like that back and forth, until my thigh literally became plastered in a myriad of sticky notes. We usually tried to be environmentally friendly, but Stasi went all out when it came to her sticky notes! At first, it was awkward with me being a complete chatterbox and her writing everything out on paper; it was like a one-sided Skype call, where someone types and one person talks. But, I loved it nonetheless. It was new, creative, and refreshing.

"No, you didn't miss a lot at school." I replied, after reading her latest note. "We did another Writer's Workshop in Literature, worked on our lab in Biology, and did some practice on significance tests in Stats. I used my uber-awesome seductive powers with Ms. Casarano in the front office to commandeer the printer and get you a copy of our notes."