BITTER IS THE NAME OF MY HEART- Adrian Ivashkov story

BITTER IS THE NAME OF MY HEART- Adrian Ivashkov story

This is the story of what happens next to adrian, or my version :), so don't read unless you're not afraid of last sacrifice spoilers or you've already read it. =D

Chapter 1

Bitter morinings that are my own.


That's basically the one word that sums up my life. Cold, desperatye lonliness. And pain. The memories, the once so warm and comforting memories of the only girl I had ever loved, now tainted by jagged words and alcohol, they taunted me every waking moment.
Ugh. I stared down through blurry eyes at the bottle I held in my hands. It tasted foul and bitter; much like my heart; but as I took more and more sips, I realised that it was the same bottle of scotch I'd been drinking for almost a week now.
I grogilly rolled over to my side, feeling twinges of pain that were probably shards of glass poking at my back through my shirt. I distantly remembered that not a week ago I had stormed out of a room well dressed, where my white dress shirt wasn't torn and my leather jacket wasn't strewn across the ground and draped across my black jeans.

That was a better time, a simplet time, a time where I was closer to a whole. Of course I had always suspected that something was going on, and I had always known that she hadn't been over him, but was it so much to ask that she break my heart before she jump in to bed with the guy?! At least it would've spared me the despair that lingered uncertainly in my chest for days before I confronted her. Perhaps, I thought icily, it would have been better if she really had of died from the shooting... but no. No, I couldn't do that to her. She may be the decieving, conniving b**ch that broke my heart, but I still loved her more than anything in this world.
More than the bitter taste of alcohol that I so badly needed right now. I took another sip in tribute to this marvellous death sentence.
I wiped my blurry eyes and looked around to see where I'd woken up on this beautiful morning. "Huh." My voice was throaty and tired. The small space I was laying in was almost completely caked in darkness, apart from the small shards of light that peeked in through the cracks in the windows, or walls, or whatever they were. I pushed my head up just a bit. I was in an enclosed alley-way, in whatever part of the world I had flown to over night, and had possibly the worlds worst hangover. It blocked spirits sideeffects in the least bit useful way; I couldn't even try to heal my aches and bruises. Lissa had tried to teach me to heal, and, by myself, without her knowing, I had gotten good eough to heal minor injuries. I doubted spirit could heal the pain I was feeling now, though.
It was... I checked my watch, laughing in spite of myself when I realised that I wasn't wearing my watch. Probably sold it for booze or smokes or something.
I couldn't stop myself from shuddering and falling back in to the day, the day I would relive forever and ever, as I so often did.
Her lips as they pressed in to a hard line and then dropped, her eyes as hurt flashed in them over and over again, her quivering body as my shouted words sunk further and further in to her understanding. That was the last time I ever saw Rose Hathaway.
Remembering that day, I could pinpoin tthe exact second I saw her heart break in her eyes, the exact second she realised that it was over, the exact second I realised -"Hey." I looked up to see a shadow darkened woman standing over me. "Get up." When I simply stared at her, she groaned and held out her hand. She was scowling. "Come on. Get up." I reluctantly sat up, and could see a lot clearer where I was. I had passed out next to a dumpster, in an enclosed alley as I had guessed. The walls were brick, and there was a shattered glassy roof that covered and shaded only where I had been lying. The girl was watching me, one hand on her hip, as the other one was extended towards me.
I took her hand, and she was surprisingly strong as she lifted me off the ground. I stumbled a little, and she looped an arm around my waist and helped me hobble out in to the light. "Geez," she grunted while we walked. "How much did you have to drink to end up here?" I looked out of the corner of my eye. She was smiling a tiny smile. When I didn't reply, she dropped her smile and kept dragging me along. "Let's at least get you cleaned up then." she whispered, and smiled briefly again.
I was kind of in shock. I was being dragged to who knows where in who knows what country. Don't get me wrong, she was pretty- i glanced over at her again- really pretty, but she- "Here we are." her voice was painted with mock enthusiasm, but there was a part in her eyes that was tingling with adrenaline and anticipation. How could I read her eyes so easily as I could Rose's? The thought suddenly formed when I pictured my face in those eyes. They were big and cat green, and her thick dark lashes shadowed them in a way so gorgeous that I actually marvelled at them. I dropped the thought when the hurt returned to my chest, not even realising that I had started to picture her instead of Rose.
What had I been about to think? That she... wasn't Rose?

I honestly didn't know.

I looked up to see where 'here' was, and was surprised to see a neat little cafe tucked in behind some tall buildings and skyscrapers. The girl helped me walk inside, and we took our seats. She looked at me for just a little while, no real expression on her face, and then called a waitress over and ordered two 'supreme breakfast deals'. I hadn't eaten any real food since, well since rose.

The two meals finally came, and I pretty much shoved my whole face in to it. It was a big plate full of bacon, toast, eggs, waffles; pretty much the grease monger special.
"Adrian." I cocked one eye up to look at her, the rest of me foccused on scooping food in to my mouth. She pursed her lips, and then nodded. "Adrian Ivashkov." I looked up to meet her gaze, and swalloed my mouthful of waffles. "Yes?"

"I remember reading about you. You had something to do with breaking that dhampir out of prison, didn't you?" I scowled and looked away from her. "She didn't do it." I couldn't believe I was defending her. But, then again, I did.
"No. I, uh, know. That she's innocent, I mean. That, uh, that Ozera girl did it." "Tasha, yes." The girl nodded, and bit her bottom lip briefly as se looked out the window.

"Not that I'm opposing to the free meal or anyhitng, but, uh, who are you?" She looked back up at me again, somewhat startled, and when I just stared back, she answered quickly without having to think. "Dawn Firwood."
Did that name sound familiar...? No. I had definitely never met this girl in my life.
Plus, I was almost 100% sure that she was human.

"And how do you know all of this, Dawn Firwood?" She looked at me, eyes wide, lips set in a small and plump pout, and then finally answered without words.
She brushed theblack hair back from her cheek delicately ands slowly, and for a moment I wondered what she was doing. Then I saw it. A little gold marking on her creamy white skin, the marking that so many had worn through generation after generation to symbolise the connection between the human and the moroi worlds. "You're an alchemist." I said. She nodded, and started playing with the food on her plate with a fork, avoiding looking at me.

I forced her to, following her gaze. "Why are you helping me?" She looked up at me seriously. Her eyes, for a second, were wide and innocent and just... well, green. And then something settled over them, like a little veil, and she spoke in a soft voice. "I don't know." I frowned briefly, and then reocnsidered my words. "I mena, don't you guys think that we're, like, evil creatures of the night or something? Why the hell would you be helping someone like me?"

She thought for a second. "You seemed... different." I nodded slowly, and looked down briefly at my now empty plate. "Like, special different, or drunk-alcoholic-might-eat-breakfast-with-me different? How did you know I wasn't a dangerous lunatic?" She smiled. "Are you?"
"Lunatic? Definitely. Dangerous? Eh, not so much." she laughed quietly and smiled at me, and I briefly smiled back. "Right. Spirit. I forgot about that." I was just a little taken aback. "You're not comparing me to the famous dragomir princess. Or, er, recent queen, I heard." She shook her head, still smiling. "I'm not the type to compare you to Lissa." "Lissa?" I cocked my head ot the side. "I thought you guys call her Vasilisa." Dawn blinked once. "Sydney is my second cousin, so I get my information on the troublesome crew from her." I sniffed. "Yeah. Haven't seen 'em in a while. Not since, well, a while." I didn't want to get in to that with a girl I had just met. She shrugged, still smiling. "Last I heard they've turned in to the couples crew. What with Lissa and the Ozera boy, and Rose and- oh. Adrian I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" "No it's fine." Ouch. That really struck deep. Dawn's lips quivered, and she swept her hair over her cheek, flustered. "I mean, I know what happened with you two. I didn't mean to offend you-" "It's fine, Dawn. Really. Hearing it from you wasn't as bad as witnessing it, believe me."

We were quiet and awkward for close to ten minutes, until Dawn finally asked me, "Did you love her?" she spoke softly, and met my eyes levelly. I nodded. "Dimitri's good to her."
She looked down at her barely touched plate, and then slid it over to me. "You're starving, Adrian. You need food." Food wasn't what I needed, but I didn't scare her with the details. My last feeidng was many nights ago, and was tainted with vodka and teenagers. I finished the plate in under fifteen minutes, and leaned back on the seat, exhaling noisily.
"Wher have you been sleeping?" I went to answer her, and laughed. She laughed back.

"Oh, right, Stupid question. And look at you! Have you showered at all since you left court?!" I thought for a while, shrugged, and sniffed my shirt, I smelled of alcohol. A thought suddenly occured. "Where am I?" Dawn grinned. "Las Vegas. You really don't remember anything from your drunken haze, do you?" I shook my head. She laughed once, and then folded her arms across her chest. "Come on, then. I think I can get you a spare change of clothes."

The car ride was long and almost silent, and we finally passed all of the bright, blinking vegas buildings, which were replaced with trees, marsh, and finally smaller buildings. "Where are we going?" She didn't look away from the wheel. "Spring Valley, Nevada. That's where I live right now. That's where we're going." I settled back in the car seat, nodding slowly.
So, alright then. An hour ago I had been lying next to a dumpster with an empty heart and stomach, and now I was full and in a car on the way to an alchemists house. Yep, not weird at all.

We finally reached the house after a little while, and Dawn stopped at a small apartment block. We took the elevator up to the floor three levels under the top floor, and it took her but five minutes to find her room, unlock the door, and get me inside.
She flipped on the tv and instructed me to sit, going straight for the phone. I sat down slowly on the black couch, not really seeing the pictures on the television, and listened. Dawn made a quick phone call, speaking really fast, and then put the phone down and looked at me. "Clothes are coming for you. They'll be here in about half an hour. I'm gonna go take a shower, so just stay sitting and watch some tv, k? I have cable." She started to leave, but then turned to look at me again. "Oh, and Adrian? Stay out of my room." She winked briefly, and turned and walked down the hall, to the bathroom. I waited on the couch, and after a few moments, heard the shower start. The rush of water reminded me of my own hygene problems, and I got up and started wandering aimlessly around her apartment. Despite what she had said, I couldn't help but poke my head in to her room. It was painted dark blue everywhere, apart from the white carpet. I walked in slowly and flipped on the light behind me. Her bed was a double, with starry sky bedsheets and a whole lot of pillows on both sides. Her room was fairly clean, apart from the heaps of clothes and her laptop strewn across the floor. I walked over to her dresser, and looked in to the mirror. My dark brown hair was greasy and dishevelled, and my eyes were somewhat bloodshot and ringed. "Damn," I said aloud. "I look like strigoi." That was a bit of an exaggeration; I looked fairly good for an alcoholic moroi who hadn't showered in a week and had been living on a human schedule. My pale skin was washed out and dry, but it wasn't the chalky white I'd seen only a handful of times. I stared down at Dawn's dresser. It was cluttered with photos, c.d's, a document file folder, and a half empty bottle of scotch. "Huh." Dawn didn't really strike me as someone who drank. If she had a bottle of scotch this big, I thought to myself, then perhaps she had a smaller bottle in one of her draweres that I could, uh, 'borrow'.
I opened her first drawer and dug through some shirts and jeans. Nothing. I opened her next drawer, and shut it instantly, ignoring the black laced bras that had jumped out at me.
I gave up when I'd decided that I didn't want to risk opening one of her private drawers again, and walked over to her bed. The covers were slightly creased, so I sat down. I looked up at the roof. It was painted dark blue with yellow and white stars, looking like a starry sky. I mused at it for a moment, until I heard Dawn call my name from the bathroom.

I walked hesitantly down the hallway, making sure to flip the light off and shut the door behind me. "Yeah?" I called back when the water sound got louder. "Can you do me a favour?" "Uhh..." I stared down at the door leading to her bathroom. "Sure."
"Grab the phone and put it on the bench, write on the benchtop notepad CHO. K?" "Um, okay. sure." I went to leave, but turned back again. "Hey Dawn? Why are you still helping me? I'm a gutter-rat alcoholic that you're alloting a free meal, outfit and cable-time to. What's the deal?" It was quiet for only a pindrop of a second w\before she responded. "Like I said: you were different. And I'm no judge of character so I have no right to judge character even if he hadn't said thank you for the meal." I could practically smell the sarcasm and the smile that I'm sure she was stifling. "Thank you." I stuttered out, and turned to leave. "Oh. And Adrian?" I turned back to the door.

"If you ever go in my room again, I'll kill you."

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