After I Chose You

O n e

Dmitry and I walked, arm in arm, across my grandfather's bridge and into the heart of Paris just as the sun, which was slowly setting, painted the sky rose and lavender. Everything was quiet. Paris' usual commotion and clamoring noise had slowed to a faint hum and we found ourselves nearing the middle of the bridge.

We weren't going anywhere in particular. We didn't have anywhere to go and we didn't need to be anywhere. We just...walked, having no destination in mind. We dawdled mindlessly in complete silence, arms linked, down the bridge.

I had come to Paris for one simple reason—to find my family...and I had done it. I had planned on living my happy ending with them, but instead I chose to live it with Dmitry.

Except...
...this wasn't exactly the end.

It was the beginning.

What now?

I had fulfilled my goal here in Paris and chosen the route I wanted to go on.

Now what?

Where would we go?

What would we do?

Dmitry stopped walking all of the sudden and my arm slipped out of his. I paused and turned back to him, frowning in concern, "Dima?"

He gave me a small smile before set his suitcase onto the ground and leaned over the bridge, glancing down into the water without saying a thing. I picked up my red skirt and walked towards him, joining him at the ledge of the bridge. Except, instead of staring at the view, I watched him closely. His chestnut brown hair was softly blowing in the gentle breeze and he looked deep in thought.

"If I would have known kissing you would make you this quiet , I would've done it sooner," I joked, trying to pry him out of his thoughts...but Dima didn't even turn to look at me. He just continued watching the rippling water below us. A few river boats went by and he watched them intently. "Dmitry?" I asked, my voice pleading, "What's wrong?" I began to worry—was he regretting walking away from everything we had come to Paris for? Regretting choosing me over whatever he had been planning to do after I found my family?

•••

"I don't want to be in love with someone I can't have for the rest of my life," Dmitry stated quietly staring at his feet, his hands clasped together and his brown eyes filled with something I didn't recognize in him—sadness. My heart skipped a beat. Dmitry...wanted to spend the rest of his life with me? I hadn't expected that kind of proclamation.

"Goodbye," Dmitry uttered, standing up from the suitcase he had been sitting on. He then bowed and finished dismally, "Your majesty." Before I could even open my mouth to speak, he turned away, his suitcase in hand and his brown hair falling on his forehead. It was now or never, Anya. Stop thinking.

"I always dreamed my f-first kiss would be in Paris with a handsome prince." I felt my cheeks begin to warm as I realized what I had just blurted. Not that I would ever take it back—it was true, I just hadn't expected it to come from...me. It seemed like something I'd wish I had said after replaying a conversation nearly a thousand times in my head, yet it had come out so naturally and smoothly, that it felt unreal. Had I rehearsed it? Maybe I had...in my dreams.

Dmitry turned back to me, staring straight into my baby blue eyes and stated in a forced and painful tone, "I'm not your prince...Anya."

I felt myself smile lovingly at him and I began to walk forward. Dmitry didn't budge; he just stared sadly at me. "The Grand Duchess Anastasia Romanov would beg to disagree, Dima," I countered. As soon as he heard "Dima," the stone cold expression he had been trying to put on melted away and emotion washed all over his face. Dmitry had been trying to close himself off—I recognized it. But I wouldn't let him.

There was no better way to prove my point than to do what I had dreamed of doing for the past few weeks or so—kiss him. So I did. I smashed my lips against his, cupping his face tenderly with my white gloves, and enjoyed the moment. He seemed shocked at first, his whole body tense and his arms frozen in midair, but after a few seconds, he quickly wrapped his arms around my waist, pulled me closer, and then kissed me back with passion as I let my hands fall to his chest. I hadn't planned to fall for him—goodness, I hadn't even planned to kiss him right after finding him! But all this had happened—and I chose him over my well-thought-out Paris plans.

We slowly pulled away and stared at each other, smiling fondly as our noses tenderly rubbed against each other for a brief moment.  Dmitry's cheeks were as red as roses and I figured mine probably were too, but we said nothing of them. Instead, Dima swung me off of his suitcase and set me down on the ground. He picked up the case, beaming, and then offered his arm for me to link with.

•••

"Dima?" I inquired again, this time more demanding, "Dmitry answer me now—orders of the Grand Duchess Anastasia Romanov."

Dmitry slowly turned to me, tears waiting to spill out of his brown eyes. I gasped slightly and took his hand, "Dima! What's—"

He interrupted, "Why did you choose me?"

"What?" I asked somewhat dumbly and out of complete shock.

"You're a princess," he began, a few tears escaping and running down his cheeks, "You just found your family—your wishes came true and then some, you have a chance to fulfill your dreams, to marry a prince, to live happily in a good estate, with servants and...a bathtub and...large bed. Why would you choose me? I have nothing—no home, no money, no food, no plans, no—"

I stopped him by shushing him softly. I wiped his tears with my thumbs and then caressed his cheek. "Oh, Dima..." I drifted, smiling sympathetically, "I chose and will forever choose you because you have the one thing that that life doesn't have—my heart. Yes, I love my Nana and I am happy to finally have the answers I wanted, but I could never live happily ever after without...you."

Dmitry slowly smiled, "I am honored to have such a valuable treasure as your heart. You have my heart too, Anya. I just wanted..."

"I know," I reassured, already knowing what he was going to say next, "And I wanted you to be happy in Paris."

"I wouldn't be happy without you," he admitted.

"And neither would I be happy in Paris without you," I agreed, grinning ear to ear.

Dima sighed, "I'm sorry for even questioning your choice. I am overjoyed to spend the rest of our lives together. I love you so much. This all just feels like a dream—it's too good of an ending. I just want to make sure you won't regret it. This life...isn't going to be—"

"The same as the life as a Grand Duchess," I finished for him. I nodded, "I know, Dima. I'm not going back. I choose you—no regrets attached."

A grin spread across Dmitry's face and he laughed heartily as he picked me up and swung me around. I squealed until he put me back on the ground, in which afterwards he pulled me close to him and pressed his lips against mine.

It was a wonderful kiss, as was the first one, just moments ago.

"My first and second kiss, all in the same day!" I exclaimed excitedly, "I'm one lucky girl."

"No," he shook his head as he tucked one of my stray hairs behind my ear, "I'm the lucky one." I took his hand and gave it a little squeeze.

"We're both fortunate to have each other," I grinned confidently, settling things once and for all.

Dmitry nodded, smiling widely, "I could agree to that."

"Good," I beamed, as I slipped my white gloves off and he picked up his case. Dima extended his free hand for me to take and I gladly accepted, lacing my fingers in his. We both shared a smile and walked the rest of the bridge, hand in hand in the pale moonlight.

Look at the sky,
Look at the water,
My grandpapa's bridge,
The Czar's daughter,
Who could've known,
I'd be with him,
Crossing this bridge?

Maybe we're sharing this beautiful night,
Me on the left bank, Dima on the right
Almost in sight...
Crossing a bridge.