Summary: Christina and Eric meet each other and it's instant hate when he dangles her off of a railing in Dauntless. After a train ride and a confession, Christina began understanding Eric, his problems and pasts. Unwittingly, Christina becomes his sweetheart after she regressed to his mean. Eric/Christina.
Pairings Throughout The Book:
Part 1: Divergent- Eric/Christina
Part 2: Insurgent- Past Eric/Christina, One-sided Christina/Peter
Part 3: Allegiant- Past Eric/Christina and Four/Christina
A/N- Soooo, this is something I wrote like 11 chapters for. The book 'Regress To His Mean' will have Christina as the main protagonist through the three Divergent books. Everything will go according to the series just with Christina/Eric on the down-low. Part 1 will be the Divergent book but in Christina's POV. Yeah. Enjoy.
Part 1: Divergent
-CHAPTER 1-
Beatdowns
This is my life now.
I look at the training center. There are black sand-filled punching bags, sounds of taped fists breaking the skin and the heavyweights. Dauntless-born and Dauntless-transferred move about, getting hurt in the wildest way.
We're all just sitting ducks in this place, aren't we? We do have to fight each other and it's hot... So we're all bloodied, bruised and roasted ducks on a silver platter for Eric.
Eric's body is tattooed. His semi-wavy hair is short and charcoal-colored. He got a haircut before this training session. I noticed this morning when he walked into the cafeteria. All conversations paused and the air didn't move.
He had something that made everyone else in the vicinity unnerved and insignificant. I hate the way he made me feel small and dominated. He didn't have fans anyway. He's too lost for therapy.
He was highlighted by taught muscles. His gray eyes offer no warmth, kind of like the turmoiled sky in the winter. He is lean and tall. His broad shoulders made him appear solid but it's the way he carries himself that makes me want to hide.
He's the perfect recipe for a disaster waiting to happen. He's already cold, calculating and his voice is frost at any moment. His scowl was infamous and his notorious temper was picked up on by us, the lowly initiates. He wanted to make life a living hell.
We're standing still. The training center is wide and darkened. The scent of sweat and iron reeks. Our shoes are off and the instructors glare at us. We're all surrounding the arena, anxiously waiting for our turns.
At the moment, Will and Al fight.
I can't look. If I do, I'll choose a side. I can't do that.
Peter and Molly are grinning at each other.
It's hard to say that we (Peter and I) were ever childhood lovers and I would rather eat lard than talk to him again.
Ever since our childhood, I knew Peter and Molly would grow old into squabbling assholes with nothing better to do. I want to break their kneecaps. They are just bullies without backbones.
And now I have to fight the tanks that have the devil's tongue.
Molly is built like a tank with broad features, dirt-colored hair, and a mischievous crooked smile. Molly definitely has more mass on me and the advantage that she's a goddamned psychopathic liar without any morals or doubts. She also has that advantage of eight or nine years of hatred locked away in the small, small tiny heart that she doesn't have.
She caught me glaring. She signaled that I would die with a gesture of her index finger running just under her neck. Peter and Drew, the other aggressors, noticed and elbow each other, snickering.
I send a special grimace and roll my eyes.
They will go down. I barely knew anything about fighting- but in the back of my mind, I knew I could beat her if I just focused.
Molly has been watching me as I've been ignoring her, planning my techniques. I hope she goes easy on me- but then again, there should be no easy way. I'd never back down from a fight, especially with lousy people like Molly.
Then my gaze avoids the match going on in front of us. Al and Will are still wrestling. He looks like he will lose. I don't know.
Will is awesome. He's unlike the boyfriends I've had back in my old Faction. Not that he's my boyfriend- we've only known each other for a day.
He has fair skin, shaggy sunshine blond hair and the greenest eyes I've noticed on no one other than Peter. I'd wander through those forests forever. Will could hold himself in a conversation without being too gentle, too heavy or too peckish.
People, I realized, do not like crude honesty.
Honesty just leads to negative and offensive thoughts- which turn into offensive words. Anything could start a fight in this Dauntless pit of mine. However, honesty is what the dauntless hate and love.
It's the truth that they can't handle.
I still love the truth. All my life, I've said what's on my mind. I was either yelling, laughing or swearing loudly. Why have a voice if all one does is shut your mouth? Maybe I go off on tangents and I tend to hurt those I talk to but it's the surest way to tell what's on your mind. I appreciate that-
Another one of Molly's stupid laughs makes me jump.
Fuck. My name and her name is still on the board. I am to face her. Did I want to lose to her, no but did I want to fight her? Every moment of my goddamned life.
Four and Eric are the worst. Did they purposely put me with Molly?
They're cold, bossy and they have no time of day for initiates. Aren't they supposed to help us, not hinder? They just mentioned we have to fight. I didn't necessarily want to fight and lose, cause I knew I would. In Candor, we would celebrate the black and whiteness of our words and debate truths. We never got physical nor did we ever get scarlet red with blood.
Here, it was inevitable.
I want to portray that I'm confident but at this moment, I can't be. I'm against the tank.
Great. Will loses and I see him hobble out of the ring.
I know I'll be injured. She's looking at me like I'm fresh meat and she's the hyena that's about to devour me with dirty, yellow-fanged molars.
"Next up- Molly and Christina," Eric shouts, still having the mellifluous voice that I hate.
When he calls my name, I know the air is pushed out of me and I can't breathe.
I glare at him and we make eye-contact, even though I know everyone else has been scared out of doing that. Interacting with wild animals only get you rabies.
He shoots me a dismissive look. I know he hates me and it's right back at him. But I physically cannot move my lead-heavy limbs onto the blood-stained arena.
Molly's moving like a starving cockroach on the search for a small crumb. She is on my death stage.
Oh, God. This isn't good. I know I am in trouble now. I clench my fist and try to look confident but everyone sees through my act. I crack my knuckles, to convince them otherwise.
I will beat her. If I want to be Dauntless, I have to deal with punks like her and win. I can't be Factionless. I will be victorious, I will win.
I look at Tris.
Despite being so small, she was big in a way. She was about five feet nothing with a small build. She didn't carry herself that way, she's all marble smooth on the outside. She narrows her dull cerulean eyes and she scowls. She's mad for me. Her corn-colored blonde hair tumbles around her shoulders and she's tense.
She cracks a watery smile and I know she's never been one for reassuring others. I don't feel assured.
Eric seems to get annoyed with my inert movements. He snaps, "Christina, move before we make you fight two other initiates,"
My blood runs cold and I feel conflicted. Two?! A long string of curses go off in my head and I can't help but widen my eyes. He's... he's terrible. I crawl into the arena, fear to control me.
Tris and Al are beside each other. Eric stares at me expectantly. He gestures to his wrist, tapping the watch he's wearing. Am I inconveniencing him?
He's smirking in a way that he knows I'll fail. I'll lose. Of course, I'd look like a fool in front of him. I shake it off. I want to punch the smirk off his face and win.
Molly charges like a mad bull and I hold my fist above my face, to protect myself. We shuffle around for a few seconds and I get a couple of hits in. Her ribs, her shoulder, and her stupid forearm have felt the burn of my knuckles.
I didn't feel acute nausea anymore and the ringing in my ears drowned everyone out. I felt confident and warm because- it looked good. Sure my bruises would show but I'm not going off- to unconsciousness.
Then, I finally get brave and use my long leg to dart my foot into her side. Molly buckles a bit, gritting her yellow teeth in pain.
Guess what, I like that. The girl deserved it. I want to mess her life up. Ruin her for days.
Suddenly, Molly smirks and dives straight at me, with her meaty arms encircling my waist. She threw herself at me and knocked me over, using her cheese-burger weight to keep me down. The fall onto the arena floor was like getting hit by a car. An icy pain spread throughout my spine and I can't help but rest in the painful moment.
This is going terribly.
I thrash around, trying to get her off of me but she keeps me down. I hate it. She's so damn heavy and she has this mad look in her dark eyes. A new craze, a new ferocity, a new anger emerged and she looked deranged.
"Oh how the tables have turned," I hear Eric mutter. Proud.
She uses her left fist and begins aiming for my face, pounding on the ground if I am fast enough to dodge her. Her fist eventually catches my face with the club-like fingers. My split lip, my jaw, my ear, my nose, my chin- all hit.
The pain makes me see colors. My net of pain spreads throughout my face and I still am desperate to squirm away, get away but it's futile as she keeps on hitting me.
There's the iron smell floating around my mouth and there's wetness surrounding me. Blood, I realize. My blood. There's a throbbing in my ear and Molly's smiling at me like a madman, enjoying my writhing.
My eyes water as I want to do anything to stop the pain. I see her ugly chin and aim for that with my red colored fist. Instead, I get her ear. I hit hard and that affects her so much, she gets knocked unbalanced and falls off of me, to my left side.
I slide away, crawling away, and I tremble. I knew she hated me- but it never got physical. Damn, I'm not ready for Dauntless if this is what I have to go through.
My shoulders heave and my ribs feel like jello. Complete and utter jello that whine at the slightest movement. In my momentary escape, Molly recovers and I know she's looming over me. Her foot collides with my ribs and it hurts- hurts more than anything. I roll away, clutching my middle.
Screw you. Screw you.
I can't- I can't take anymore. I flinch when she approaches me. I struggle to my knee and hold my hand up. I concede. I can't. Not now.
I look up to Eric since I am too panicked to search for Four. My nose is bloody so I try to pinch it. "Stop!" I yell as Molly is preparing for kick number two.
I look at her, pleading.
"Stop!" and here comes the coughing, "I-I'm done,"
I look at Eric, awaiting his response.
Eric and Four got into an argument about the new rules of Dauntless. It was extreme but we're not allowed to back out of a fight. I don't care about the rules, I just want to get out of here.
Something flashes through his eyes. I am scared. I get to my knees and there's blood around me. My blood. That bitch!
He doesn't yell, he doesn't display his damn anything. He's not angered nor is he happy. He is just quiet and moving with grace. He folds his arm and inches towards me on the arena. Molly moved to the edge of the arena, a triumphant smirk on her face, hovering over the blood on her face.
She didn't win. I didn't lose either. Shut up, Molly!
He stands over me with a scowl. He's mad. He says quietly, "I'm sorry, what did you say? You're done?"
It reverberates all around me. I'm done. I can't use words but I'm broken and bleeding. I don't care- just let me go, please. He glares get harder and I flinch. I- I can't do anything but nod. Better be honest than dying on the arena. My face is swelling, my body aches and I want to just sleep for a month.
It makes me feel scared that I haven't looked away.
"Get up," he says lowly. I can hear the simple animosity he has for me. I don't care. But I don't want to get up.
When I don't move, he grabs my arm roughly, his iron grip yanking me up. I don't want to push him away but I kind of pry his fingers off of me.
Before I know it, we're already at the door. We're in some narrow pathway and I can distantly hear water.
Where is he taking me?! I can't breathe and my heart squeezes painfully. I can't even hear what he says to the others but I know that they're following us.
I won't lose to Molly and Eric in the same day.
He notices that I am pushing and lets go and marches behind me, still urging me forward. His big hands press into the small of my back and the warmth burns me. He gives me little pushes but nothing major. I am so reluctant.
"What- what are we doing?! Where are you taking me?" I ask venomously, panicked.
It's so dark and I don't know where we are. I'm just tripping over my bare feet. The rocks scraping the soles of my feet don't matter.
"Shut up," he hisses with just as much venom.
"Eric-" I whine.
"Shut up, coward,"
His words, compared to the pain I received from the fight, feels a hundred thousand times worse. I don't know why. He has the power to change my future and he thinks I am a lowly coward.
Does Four think of me in that way?
That makes me feel all kinds of wrong. Coward. I am not a coward for ending the fight. He just gets off on the bruises and all of this?! Doesn't he?! I know we're supposed to be brave but this isn't cowardice. It was self-preservation and I knew, I knew Molly wouldn't have stopped kicking me. She would have killed me.
Finally, we get to the right side of the pit and no one's around. I hear the footsteps of the just as anxious dauntless.
He grabs my arm once he sees people then he brings me to the white river of chaos. The water's so loud and it roars, vibrating the rock under us. It feels powerful but I know he didn't take me here for a safety reason, safety lesson.
Finally, he shoves me against the old, copper-colored rusted railings that separated me and the water. Me and my death. He stands over me and finally looks angry.
Everyone is gathering behind Eric and they look distraught. Is he making an example out of me?!
He smirks at the water and his gaze spreads over my body. Unimpressed, is what his expression screams. He finally says, "Climb over it,"
"What?" I ask, my fear evident. I go white and my eyes widen.
Eric crosses his arms again. "Climb over the railing," he repeats, pronouncing each word slowly. "If you can hang over the chasm for five minutes, I will forget your cowardice. If you can't, I will not allow you to continue initiation."
What the actual hell is his problem?! He wants me to hang over the chasm for five minutes?!
He is making an example out of me. He nods and I almost shake my head. But I can't be Factionless. Not because of Molly or because of Eric. Never because of Eric.
The railings wet my pants and I know they're cold, narrow and slippery. They're metal and the water sprays over them constantly.
"Fine!" I say flippantly.
I wipe my blood soaked hands on my pants. The bleeding of my nose stopped but my face is still streaked with blood.
I then climb over the railing and I hang. I let myself clear my mind. My thoughts are blank and I'm only wondering about my mortality and my survival. My knuckles are white from holding on too tightly. And I know I can't, I can't do anything but hang on for my life. My open wounds burn and I feel powerless.
The first minute and a half are fine until a jolt of ice-cold water slams my face against the railing and makes my hand wet. My grip is weak and I'm holding on with four fingers. Then there's another huge wave and it hits me. My right hand's grip on the damn railing slips.
I remember clawing for it but my hands are wet. I can't die. I cannot die like this. Al's cheering me on and Tris is frozen, unsure of what to do. I see the varying degrees of horror on the other's faces. Damn Eric looks happy. I will attack him!
When the five minutes are up, Al says it. He glares and his stares are bullets, hoping to shoot Eric.
Eric checks his own watch but takes his time. "Fine, you can come up, Christina,"
And oh, the relief is tremendous. The pain fades and ebbs away. I'm free from this punishment- from the stigma that I am a coward. Al makes his way over to me, being big and tall, he's near to me immediately. He's going to pull me up. He's there as a savior. He never looked so strong to me before. Now he does.
"No," Eric says, his tone too casual, keeping his eyes on me. "She has to do it on her own,"
They all look mortified. I can't even feel disappointment, I am too tired. Damn you. To add insult to injury, he smirks at me. This whole time, he's kept his gaze on me and I looked back, ignoring how acidic the glare was. He liked it. Now I can't act strong. I resign myself to it. It's just pain. The best thing about pain is that it ends.
My bones feel heavy as I struggle. He's creating new ways to hurt me.
"No, she doesn't," Al growls. "She did what you said. She's not a coward. She did what you said."
Thanks, Al. Thank you. Eric doesn't respond but he looks surprisingly pleased by Al's ferocity. I can't do anything but tremble as he pulls me up. Tris is there as well. I'm wet, red with blood and freezing with the water. There's this certain ache. It reminds me of how I am still breathing.
All I know is that I am alive, no thanks to Eric and Molly.
Unknowingly, a laugh escaped my mouth. I'm alive. Bruised and broken but alive. I can celebrate that. I am a puddle but who cares? I'm alive.
That startles everyone thoroughly.
I glare at Eric first. My eyes lift to Tris who looks like I'm going to combust at any moment. I am trembling but I am fine.
Alive.
We return to the training room, and there's a blur of fights. Tris tends to me for the rest of the afternoon but Will isn't seen again. Lucky bastard.
Eric claps his hands together, watching us pant from the obvious injuries we have. Everyone immediately pays attention. I glare at the ground, angry at the world and myself. Am I a coward?! Am I- am I supposed to be Factionless? I can't return to Candor. I can't.
I am so ashamed. I can't even look at any of my friends. Molly taunts me. Both Peter and Molly won their fights. Drew lost to Peter and he's more black and blue than I am.
Every time I lift my eyes, I somehow catch Eric's stare on my face. He's observing me like I soured his milk. The Dauntless leader with soured milk.
In front of us, we're done and he waits for us to shut up. He clears his throat and I avoid his gaze. "That was a good training session. You all have exposed your skill levels and others their cowardice," Eric says slowly. Malicious.
I suddenly look at him to find he's already shooting a pointed glare at me.
I narrow my eyes. Can't he just give it a rest?! I didn't expose my cowardice. Others snicker and I feel Tris's worried stare on the side of my face. Al just looks angry. For me. I feel those emotions being amplified by the tenfold.
"We will return to this tomorrow," Eric says loudly, excited. "You are all dismissed,"
My head aches as I struggle to get up. Tris waits for me and she flounces to my side. I just want to leave the training room as soon as possible. I cannot handle this.
We're released from the training room and everyone has their fair share of bruises when they spill out.
Eric says, "Everyone but you," and looks at me.
He points to me.
The air stops again and I sink a bit. Me. Why is it always me?! My heart becomes ice and my guts are ice water.
I scan the training room. "Me?" I squeak. It comes out as a question. I want to sound strong but I am honestly scared.
He nods and he says to Al and Tris, "Scram. It's a friendly discussion between me and an initiate,"
Ha. Friendly. Try deadly.
I know I might not walk out and rejoin my friends.
They hesitate and Tris is staring at Eric in a way that intimidates me. She's staring into his soul and sees the dirt and sadism he has in there. Al cuffs her shoulder and pulls her away.
I try to cross my arm but the bruises on my ribs make me unable to.
We're alone when the door shuts. He just lets his gaze fall on me, head to toe. I feel exposed and observed. I'm in a black bralette and baggy camo pants that's tied with an old belt. My stomach's exposed and he's staring at me like a meal.
I turn away and cross my arms, the way he is though it hurts. I want to make myself look bigger but I am still short compared to him.
"What?" I snap.
"Watch yourself, initiate," he says slowly. "You do not want to cross me. If you do, there will be consequences,"
I am too hurt and uncaring of these said punishments. So I look away. He's blocking the exit so I can't dash out of there.
"I want to discuss your act of cowardice," he says, like we were in the middle of a casual conversation.
"I am not a coward," I say.
"Your behavior suggests otherwise," he seethes, voice low.
"I am not a coward," I repeat, more sure of myself.
"Don't lie to yourself," he grits and I glare.
"I can't lie. I'm Candor," I yell.
"You're wrong," Eric shakes his head, offering a grave look. "You're Dauntless although you're not acting like one," he whispers in a strangled tone.
I feel ridiculous for yelling when he's stoic and quiet. It makes me feel gaslit and crazy.
"I backed down. So what? That tank would have killed me. You saw how she was. I didn't want to die," I am yelling, and I didn't know know what I was saying. Why am I so honest?!
I feel as though I made an error because his jaw sets and there's darkness in his gray eyes. "Dauntless has no room for excuses or positions for those who make those excuses,"
"It's not an excuse. If you had half of a neuron, you'd know that she would have killed me,"
His eyes flash angrily. "Do not insult me, Christina. It is unbecoming of you and I can make your life hell. I'm above you weak rookie,"
He's just a brick wall and I don't intend on fighting him.
I sigh, seeing red. I can't take any of this. I brush past him, not caring that my shoulder collides with his own. Pain dusts over my shoulder but I can't care. I don't care.
He grabs my arm roughly and twirls me around so that we are face to face with each other.
Then his words come at me like knives. "In Dauntless, we fight and win but we also lose. Those outcomes do not stop us from throwing and sharing punches. We do not shy away from a fight due to the injury we might receive. Dauntless do not think like that. If you cannot see reason in my words, then you are already one foot out of our door. We are brave not cowards,"
I feel angry, my cheeks burn and I want to run away. But he's not singing a liar's tune. There's blood in my mouth because I've been biting my tongue.
He continues, "We do not believe in backing down. If you do not conform to these standards, you will find yourself on the streets with the other non-dauntless. Weak and Factionless. Do you want to find yourself in that position?" he asks.
I don't answer. My mouth goes dry and his grip on my arm is tight. Was it Dauntless of me to not fight? Was it?! If she had bashed my skull in, would it have been better than enduring this special torture?
Dauntless do not run away from the chaos, from the fire. They are holding the matches and lighters while dancing around the flame. They do not care if they get burnt because they are brave.
Was I running away from the non-existent explosion? Dauntless flirt with death but they never kiss it.
Eric hates my moments of contemplation. "Answer me," he says cautiously, squeezing my arm a bit more. Hard.
I grit my teeth and avoid his gaze still. I have to tell the truth, he already thinks so little of me, why add to the hate? Agreeing with him will just inflate his ego thus leaving me alone.
"No," I say, feeling defeated.
He squeezes my arm warningly. He wants me to finish my answer.
"No I don't want to be in that position," I answer and he eases up.
"Then train like you want to be here and pray that you're going to make it to the third stage,"
I look at him, accidentally. Our faces are so close and I can see the little scar that's above his lip. I'm looking up to him and I notice there are hints of blue in that ashen mix of his eyes. He looks dead serious and his strong jawline is set.
Then it hits me. "There are three stages?!" I ask, horror in my tone.
Oh, God. When I inhale deeply, I smell his scent. He smells like spiced rum and expensive cigarettes. A little earthy.
He narrows his eyes. His brow is pierced and the edge of his lip is pierced as well. The silver reflects the light of the room. "There you go again with the fear," he says, annoyed, a matter of factly. "If you never try, you can't win or lose and that's your problem,"
"You don't know anything about me," I scoff. Is he serious?
Now he's angry but he's not yelling. "I know enough. Keep it that way until your initiation ends. If you make it to that stage, that is. Don't give me or any of the other instructors trouble,."
"Don't act like you're trying to help me. You practically dangled me off of the railing and I almost died. For Dauntless saving lives- that was the opposite," I hiss as I pull away. "Don't pretend you care,"
I head towards the door, secretly pondering his words. I don't look but I know he's glaring at the back of my head.
Good.
My arms still burn from the memories of hanging over the railing for so long. It hurts to even clench my fingers. I've been through worse. My muscles are new and sore but I hate the effect he has on me. What type of spawn does that to a person?
Does he get off on our suffering? Almost as terrible as Peter! That dick.
I hate it. I hate him. Eric didn't have to be so, so idiotic. Both Four and Eric are idiotic. The stupid number and stupid tattooed idiot. It doesn't help.
I just wanted to quit a simple fight with the bitch Molly. She destroyed me out there and I get punished by Eric. It hurts more than I know. I'm still damp from his little stunt and I know, I know that he finds pleasure in me almost dying.
He's ruthless, Will told me one late night. He was ruthless and I understand, in broad daylight. While I hung on, I counted fifty-six different ways to react to my cowardly ways.
I just asked for a fight to stop. I panted, there was blood in my mouth, my ribs ached and all he saw was a kicked dog?! I was so confident- Dauntless are never supposed to be nervous yet I found myself stepping onto the mat.
It annoyed and flustered me to no end.
I am in the dim hallway, clenching my fist. I will not get out of this. This is my life now. I chose Dauntless. I will be Dauntless.
Tris is at the door. Al is there. They're standing abreast to each other. They both look terribly worried. But I wave it off.
"What did Eric say?" Tris asks, still anxious. She's usually so grounded but she looked like a wreck. For me, I add in a small tone.
I am huffing and my mind reels. It hurts to breathe. Damn you, Molly. I try not to limp.
Eric mouthed off about me being a coward, I want to say. I can't, though. I like how I have some control over my words, now that I am in Dauntless. I might not be Dauntless because I don't act like one. God. Does everyone see me like that? I want to tell them all the stinging words he said. At the end of the day, they are still my competition. I can't look weak in front of them. I can't look weak in front of anyone.
So, I shrug. "It's just Eric being Eric," I say nonchalantly, acting as though that explained it. "He wants me to square up,"
Al looks like he's going to punch the wall and Tris shakes her head softly, muttering something.
"You've already done enough. He's just a sadist. We don't know how to fight. We don't know anything and he's beating on us," Al growls.
Tris just sighs, like all the energy has been taken out of her. "I hope he doesn't target you,"
"You know, he already has. Four times," I say, thinking about it carefully. She winces because she knows it's true. "So he has and will."
I was over a railing because of him. Fuck.
Tris clenches her small fist and becomes quiet. She'll deal with it internally, all on her own like she always does. I look at Al. "Thanks... Thanks for pulling me up," I whisper, trying not to get emotional.
Al doesn't look like he'll murder Eric and softens. He's so gentle. "Yeah... it was no big deal," he scratches the back of his neck.
Tris looks at me and says, "We'll stop him. He won't touch you,"
She's determined. I think about that. All he was saying was stupid but I was just... relieved.
"I hope he drops dead," Al says quietly.
"Don't we all?" I say, in all of my crassness.
Despite ourselves, they laugh. I want to but it hurts my ribs. They help me wobble to the cafeteria for dinner.
We take a look around the filled cafeteria. There are fights, loud laughter, piercing conversations and brawls. I love the noise, it feels like Candor.
Candor and Dauntless are similar. There are altercations, loud smart asses and people wear a lot of black. However, there's bloodshed, more alcohol, and fights. There's always some energy that reminds us we're free. We don't care.
My gaze sweeps across the cafeteria and I realize I am looking for my sister. She'll never be in this crowd.
Rose... I miss her.
I spot Molly, Drew, and Peter laughing. They loved the sight of my bruised face. Molly smirks and Peter gives her a high five. I glare at them.
Will is sitting alone with obviously reserved spots for us. It makes me feel good cause I know the spot beside him is for me. Me only.
Before I can feel happy, I spot Eric. I can't help but tense up. My mood always changes when I think of him.
He's with a group of Dauntless who are not afraid of him. Friends. He's talking freely. His hair is slick and he's easy-going, not letting his guard down, but calm. He has white teeth, even from here, I can see them glint.
I want to make him swallow his stupid, perfect teeth.
Suddenly, like he sensed me staring, he turns and notices me. He looks straight at me and I don't look away. Maybe he's numbed by the drink in his hand. It's a red cup and I've seen movies.
He doesn't glare at me like I am, he instead scans my face, all analytical. Then as if to shatter my world, he winks.
What the hell?! It makes me so confused that I curse and shift away from Al. He only wants to do me dirt.
Al notices and apologizes, automatically blaming himself. "Oh- sorry, Christina, I didn't mean to,"
I say it's fine and he looks pained. Tris is beside me and she shoots me a suspicious side-glance. "Who were you looking at?" she simply asks.
I quickly avert my gaze and Tris raises a pale eyebrow. Suddenly, Will's deep voice calls out. It's smooth like caramel. "Guys," he says. "Over here,"
Will takes one look at me and sinks a bit. Al is supporting me, on arm draped over my shoulder and another arm around my waist.
"What happened?" he asks, rushing over to me. Even though he's bruised and in pain, he's already by my side, fawning over me.
I wince when we moved too fast. He takes Al's position and I sigh in relief. Tris and Al left, to get food.
Will settles me on the bench and I take a moment to breathe. Will's eyebrows furrow and I reach out and pull his ear. "Don't worry. I'm fine," I say, even though I am lying. I don't want him to worry.
He shakes my hand away.
When he's not crunching the statistics and numbers in his head- he's worrying. He scoffs, not believing me. He clasps my shoulder and squeezes it. It also makes me look at him. "What happened?" he asks again because no one answered him before.
"Molly and Eric happened. I'd imagine me being triumphant instead of them," I grit out, not wanting to recount the experience.
Thinking about it hurts. Has no one talked to him? People must be talking. It makes me happy that no one knows of my embarrassment. It soothes me.
"You had to fight both of them?" he yelps and people look at us. I shoot them angry looks. Mind your own business.
I shake my head. "No. Molly beat me up real good and Eric- Eric made me hang off of the railing over the chasm because of my said cowardice," I tell him. There's no point in hiding why I am in pieces. "He's such a hypocrite."
He looks so angry, his pale face is splotched with red. "Why would Eric do that?" he growls.
"Why would anyone?" I grumble. He's crazy but a bit right. "He's loony,"
"You look like a walking corpse. Are you okay?" he asks and leans in closer and his minty breath brushes over my face. He smells like lavender and creeks. Not authority and smoke. Weird.
He wants to ask more questions but my stomach growls. "Looks like another monster came out of hiding," Will says, referring to my grumbling stomach.
I smack his arm, shoving playfully. "I just get angry when I'm hungry, I'm not a monster when I'm practically starving," I laugh. I haven't eaten anything since lunch. It's near nighttime, I think.
He shrugs and says, "What was that? I couldn't hear you over the growling,"
He stands up and runs off. Tris and Al aren't back and I am happy with our little group. Will was smart and powerful, Al was gentle but strong and Tris was so pure and brave.
I look around, to check where they are. Again, I catch the strong gaze of Eric. And I hate this. This time, it was him looking first. What the hell? He glares at me this time and I wonder what I did. Does my breathing make him upset? Am I digging my grave? Why is he so hot and cold?
My friends come back and I am still recovering from Eric's mind games. I suddenly feel sick. I want to leave. They come back with my food. It turns out that both Tris and Will got me grub. I'm happy. They care.
I stay quiet and they chalk it up to me getting my ass kicked. Really, I'm pondering Eric's words. Am I weak? Do I really need to stop being so afraid? I- I am so confused. I fought the darkness growing inside. I eat too much but it feels good.
I need to fix that... but how?
When I've had enough of the laughter and Peter's non covert wanting stares, I lie and say I'm going to the bathroom. I actually head to the nurse's wing in the pit. I had to ask around but I finally got there.
It's all black and sterile. People lay in cots and beds, trying to heal.
A doctor spots me and shrieks. She's Dauntless but a little too scared of wounds, I can tell. She's all over me and checking me for injuries. I suddenly feel ashamed. People have broken wrists and bones and I just have bruises. They need this more than me.
I try to leave but she clasps my arm and scolds me until I lie down. She gives me painkillers and some morphine. The morphine makes me feel like I'm floating.
There are tattooed and bruised Dauntless with wild haircuts and even stranger piercings. Most people are more ink than skin and metal than flesh. I feel like I'm on my deathbed. Everyone's laughing, proud of their small battle scars. I wish I was proud.
Instead of coming back to them, my friends, I collapse on the bed and fall asleep.
The next day, I wake up in the bed I collapsed on. I get two pills and swallow them dry. After she tended to my wounds and gave me a cream from Amity to heal my bruises, I feel better. My face is messed up and sore but I swing my legs over the ledge.
I get up, go to the bathroom and run ice cold water over my knuckles and face. I make my way to the dorms and I realize how early it was. There was no one around in the pit.
How early was it? I ask myself. I check and it's just before six a.m. Damn. Before Dauntless, you couldn't pay me to wake up before eleven. How times have changed. I don't get to kiss my mom in the morning, go jogging with my dad and argue over boys with Rose.
Before I can do anything, I realize I stink. I need a damn shower. I go to my bed and at my bedside, there are some clothes that I like.
I gather my clothes and sigh. I choose black tights and a gray crop top that exposed my navel. I kept the effort to a minimal to not upset my hurts. I rush out, using my familiar silver clips to tie my hair back. I run to the training room. My body aches and my head hurts but I have to work on my strength. I have to get better.
It's empty and the lights are on, but some aren't. So it's dark and dim. It reminds me of a black and white horror story.
I ignore my fears and move forward. I remove my shoes and stretch. It aches but I barely notice it.
As I move to the sand-filled bags, I use my forearms to practice building up a tolerance. I have to block punches with the outside of my forearms.
I am just about ready to start punching the hard red leather when I hear; "Well, well what do we have here?" someone says.
I sigh and swivel around and see him. I jump back, collided with the hard bag and pain raced up my back. I bite my lip from crying out.
Why is he here?
Eric.
-End Chapter-
A/N- SOoo. This pairing is weird but like- read Breaking The Habit by BellumGerere and you'll see so much potential. And BellumGerere- thank you for opening my eyes to this crackship. You write beautifully and I wouldn't have known this ship without you. I won't have drugs in mine but I think I'll make Eric an alcoholic or something. He has substance (not only the drugs) and character developpement and I want to emulate you in this! Keep on rocking! My story will be pretty long, covering all three books and I will follow the storyline or not, idk. Tris is kinda awful but I love my guy Four! Yeah. And like, Christina is all over the place and snarky and not as into Will.