Irresistable; Shania×Peter One Shot
I can't stay mad at him.
When he stabbed Edward in the eye, I was furious. It was not only an obvious display of cowardice, but it went against any morals I learned growing up. My father always told me that you should never resent someone simply because they prove to be a challenge for you. He used to say that I should take that resentment and morph it into determination to do better next time. Not take that and stab them. In the eye. With butterknife. Thats cowardice.
It upset me quite a bit, expecially when I found out that Molly and Drew were also behind it, encouraging him to do it. I refused to speak with him for days, but he would come up behind me and wrap his arms around my waist, his hot breath tickling my ear. When I wouldn't respond, that just made him more anxious and determined. Until the dope finally just kissed me. Thats when I realized.
I can't stay mad at him.
When he beat the living hell out of Christina simply because he knew he could, I was furious. Not because she's a girl, in fact, far from that. Christina is one tough **. But I grew up knowing that you shouldn't hurt or pick on someone weaker than simply because you can. The biggest thing about Dauntless is bravery, and bravery is not conquering those weaker than you when you don't have to. Thats considered cowardice.
This upset me a lot, expecially when I found out that Christina was in the infirmary. I went to go visit her and I brought her lunch and dinner every day. I tried avoiding Peter, but nearly every night that I got back to the bunks, I would find him fast asleep on my bed. He would be bruised and damaged by todays activities, and so was I. But he left just enough room for another body to cuddle in next to him. Someone small. So each night, I would crawl into his arms and he would pull me close to him and press his face to my neck. Thats when I realized.
I can't stay mad at him.
When he left me the first time for Molly, I was furious. Not because he left me, but because he left me for her. Can't he see that she'll never love him more than I could, even though she dares to stand where I stood? But in school, I eventually learned that if you love something, to let it go. If it comes back to you, its yours. If it doesn't, it never was. But avoiding Molly when I was near him and refusing to be lovey when I was watching? Thats cowardice.
This upset me a great deal, expecially when they would cuddle in the dorms when he thought I wasn't watching. But I was, and I was also dying inside. Until the one day that I went into the mess hall and on my seat was a fresh platter of food and a small arrangement of flowers reading "I'm sorry." He came up and wrapped his strong arms around me and pressed our foreheads together. It was a sensation I used to love, used to crave, but now I missed. Thats when I realized.
I can't stay mad at him.
When Peter passed on to heaven or hell or wherever the ** we all end up one day, I was 18. He was 19. I wasn't furious, no, thats not the right word. There isn't a word I know that can describe what I went through in those bitter moments. Words can't explain the feeling of having your heart torn in half by an imaginary force, of feeling a part of you getting torn out and cast away from you. To know you'll never get back what was once yours. I didnt mourn after his death. I got up and moved on. I still think about him all the time and it still hurts because I still love him, but no more living in the past and mourning. Thats cowardice.
I was upset, yes. Expecially when I fould out he died by gunpoint. By his own gunpoint. Not purposly, of course. It was dark and he couldn't see very well. Atleast, thats what I heard had happened. Can't trust people like Tris sometimes, though. What was she even doing there? I still like to lay in my bed and think about all the good times we had. When he picked me as his partner for paintball, which was the first time he ever asked me out. When we teamed up for capture the flag, and he tended to my wound I got from toppling out of a tree. Those nights that I would wake up hysterically screaming for my brother and how he would kiss me and hold me even after the screaming was gone. How he cared about me like no other person has. Thats when I knew for sure.
I can't stay mad at him.
Now, 10 years later, I realize I no longer care if its cowardly or not. I miss him, I want him, I need him, I love him. I mourn and find myself waking up at night, not screaming for my brother Ethan, but for Peter instead. I no longer care how much of an ** he was when we were younger and how arrogant I was. What I wouldn't give to have him back next to me. I wonder how my life would be now if he wasn't shot. Would we be married? Would we be happy? Could there even be the possibility of having a kid?
Thses are the questions that will remain unanswered until I join him, wherever it is he went