XIV · DIMITRI

Dimitri Delacroix's point of view

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I COULDN'T BELIEVE SHE HAD JUST asked me that. Insinuating she wanted to court my little brother, when I know, she was trying to provoke me, was a low move even for her. But she shouldn't have done that, you don't play with other family members.

Not to mention that I would never let her get close to him, because knowing how naïve and easily-impressed he is, he could fall for her and would end up getting hurt. And the thought of her with him made me blind with anger.

"No! I do not think I could introduce you," my tone was serious and she smirked amused. "Don't you dare to try anything with my brother, Isabelle. I can't allow you to hurt him."

"Oh," she put her hand above mine, "Dimitri, why do you take things so seriously? Are you afraid that your brother might fall in love with me?" Yes. "Wasn't you saying that no men would ever fall for me?"

I glared at her irritated, "My brother would never. Because he prefers the same thing as you do," I whispered the last part and she blushed when she got the meaning of my words. Of course, it's a lie, but it's a harmless lie. "So, don't even think about it!"

"Whatever," she exclaimed, taking her hand away from mine, redder than ever from top to bottom. But then she seemed to have another mischievous idea and turned to my mom, "Aunt Genevieve," why is she calling her that? "Does your son have any best friends?"

My mother, melted by how the savage called her, nodded, with a sweet smile. "Yes. The Crowned Prince and Princess, and Jean!" Mom pointed to my friend who was eating in front of me.

"Me?" He questioned confused, probably because he wasn't paying attention to our conversation.

But I intervened before she could run her mouth again, "You shouldn't waste your time, Isabelle. Two of my best friends are in a relationship with each other. And Jean is engaged." I'm not lying. "To Lady Maribel Colbert, the only offspring of Viscount Achilles Colbert and it's been almost a year."

She seemed almost disgusted, "More two lives wasted," I heard her muttering, which made me grin, because she really doesn't seem to like the idea of marriage. But she put on a smile, "Congratulations, Lord Aveline," so she knows who he is?! "Seeing as you are the second son of your house, you wouldn't gain the title of Baron, but you are lucky that now you will become the next Viscount of House Colbert!"

"It's not luck, Princess. It's simply, love!" I couldn't help but flinch at his words.

"Oh, so it isn't a convenience marriage?" Adrien asked.

"No. We met each other when we were around 15, in a ball. And since then, I've been courting her. It's true love," that makes me nauseous.

Isabelle scoffed at that, "True love only exist in books!" She exclaimed in disbelief after hearing my friend say that. "It's a fairytale they tell kids to give them hope of a better future and successful love life."

Her dad seemed sad to hear her saying that, and so were her siblings. Maybe growing up without seeing her parents loving each other because they were separated by death made her think that way. Although I can't disagree with her, once, after seeing my parents' relation my entire life, I've come to the same realization as her.

"And that's why romance books are so famous," she said looking at nowhere specific. "It gives people hope. Hope of one day living something similar as what they read. And it also gives them standards. When you read a book where there's the perfect guy, and the perfect girl, you just won't be entirely okay with having less than that."

We all stared at her. But something told me I was the only one here who actually understood her. Which made me feel very uncomfortable.

"That's why I think a writer is one of the most manipulative types of people out there. They have the power to gives others hopes and dreams, to make them fall in love, to make them despair... But I also think that a writer is either a dreamer who dreams of living what he creates in his stories; or someone who's totally hopeless, and just want to lose themselves in the world of fiction and fantasy because they know real life is nothing like that," she sighed, and when she got back to us, she avoided our eyes.

"That might be the reason why books are so addicting," I muttered and their eyes went from her to me. "Real life is incredibly disappointing when you don't have anyone who can make you feel alive. Someone who makes you feel a burning fire inside yourself, makes you feel anger, but also amusement. A person who can make you forget the rest of the world and just be yourself!"

Duke Florentin chuckled softly, "I had that, with Adelaide. And in the beginning, we actually hated each other," that doesn't sound so good.

My mother giggled, "True. We met when we were around 8 years old, and every time you two crossed paths, you would always bicker with each other. Teasing, cursing, fighting. But when you needed someone's help, you were always there. And the spark between you was obvious to anyone who was around, like I was. I think, back there, I used to be envious of what you had."

"I faintly remember my parents bickering all the time, but always laughing and loving each other dearly as well," Adrien added smiling sadly.

Mom turned to Isabelle, "Dear, I may not have lived a love like those of books, but I assure you, your parents had. It was obvious to everybody that they were crazy for each other, despite the bickering and teasing. I did not have a true love, but I saw it happening right before my eyes!"

When my eyes turned to Isabelle, her face was blushing, but she seemed beyond annoyed. It was like she didn't feel comfortable hearing any of that. "I don't know about that. After all," she got up, "I almost have no memories of my mother," then she sighed. "I have to go, enjoy your day."

Then she left us.

"She's acting strange," Mathis exclaimed when we couldn't see her anymore. And then he glared at me, "She's odd since you appeared. You've been getting on her nerves like I never could. It's bothering me!"

"Me?" I feigned confusion.

"What did you do to my sister? Did you offend her?" He asked suspicious.

"His Grace did nothing," Jean defended me. "If one thing, it was your sister who kept getting on his nerves. He even tried to save her from that monster, but she pointed a dagger to his throat to defend such a beast," I glared at him, but he didn't seem to notice.

Adrien arched his eyebrows, "Did you met Jade?" His eyes were on me and I couldn't even avoid it.

"Accidentally, yes. I got lost and went to the inner garden. The panther was there!"

My mom smiled excited and the Duke slapped his forehead. "Do you still have that panther?" So, she knew? Why didn't she ever tell me something like her best friend having a black panther as a pet? Isn't that important?

It's a damn panther, not a cat!

"Adelaide's black panther died some years ago, but she had a cub, and it is now Belle's. She named it Jade," Duke Florentin said, sighing. "Don't wander around like, Dimitri. We are trying to keep Jade only on the inner garden and in the outdoor garden, since you two are here. So, try not to go there."

I looked around, seeing as we were currently on the garden.

"She isn't here. She's probably sleeping," Adrien told me. "Did you really thought Belle was being attacked?"

"Yes. But she got offended by it."

"Did you point your sword to Jade?" Mathis questioned me, with his eyebrows up and I nodded. "Then, of course she got angry. Even if it was accidental, Jade is like a daughter to her. And her best friend too, as confusing as it sounds. She'll probably hold a grudge against you for that for a long time!"

My godfather took a deep breath, "Belle tends to be quite hard on forgiving others."

Passing my fingers through my hair, I rolled my shoulders. "I don't really care. It's not like I appreciate her existence either. She makes me want to strangle her," my mom gasped to that.

"Dimitri!"

"What? I'm being honest!"

"I know the feeling," Mathis chuckled and I felt a sudden relief. "Just avoid saying triggering things while teasing her, alright?" What could possibly be a trigger to that savage? "She's not as tough as she seems."

That's hard to believe. He must say that because he's her older brother. "If she doesn't say triggering things to me, I won't say it to her!" I exclaimed like a spoiled child and they all sighed, even Jean, although my friend sighed in a mocking way. "Now, I have to go. I'm a Duke after all, I have duties to attend even if I'm staying here this week!"

After greeting them, I made a sign for Jean to follow me and we left the garden, then the manor. And the asshole was still eating a croissant with milk jam. He kept glaring at me as we entered my carriage.

"Rather than to keep staring at me like that, you can just ask for a painting of my face and it'll last longer," I exclaimed, annoyed.

He giggled, "What's gotten into you? You're acting quite strange since we came here."

"Strange? I don't see any difference."

"Keep lying to yourself," he mocked. "You are not falling for the savage Isabelle Baudelaire, right?"

"Excuse me? Do you take me for a blind person?"

"Ha... I really hope you aren't, my friend," he ate the last bite of the damned croissant. "If two people like you and her were to get together, this world would be doomed!"

"Cut the bullshit, Jean. Nothing is happening between us two, alright? You're delusional!"

Rolling his shoulders, he looked at the window, "Great. Because as Duke Florentin Baudelaire and your mother were talking about how he was with the late Duchess Baudelaire, I had the impression that you his daughter were quite the same."

I glared at him, "Say that again and I'll forget we are best friends and kill you."

Giggling, he met my eyes, "Damn, you are attracted to her!"

"No! I am not!"

"You are both attracted to each other," he accused me.

How can I get out of this situation, Gods? "Don't shit by your mouth, asshole. You've been reading too much romance books, your head is messed up, dear friend!"

"Gods, I hope I'm the messed up one here."

"Can you avoid mentioning that savage, please?"

Sigh. "I really hope I'm delusional," he said to himself. "She may be physically beautiful, but don't let that fool you. The second she opens her mouth she ruins that beautiful part of hers."

I found myself clenching my fists on my sides, and took a deep breath to calm my nerves down. "I know. You don't have to worry. I'm never falling in love. I don't wish to end up like my mother."

He felt bad, I could see it. But thankfully, he read the mood and said nothing afterwards, for his own good. Delusional jerk.

Not even if she was born again, I would fall for Isabelle Delannoy fucking Baudelaire!

In real life it's impossible to fall in love for someone you hate, and if you do, it's because you never hated the person. And I'm sure I hate her. Yes, I may be slightly physically attracted to her for some unknown reason, but that's all.

We are incompatible, like the sun and the moon, water and fire, winter and spring!