I sat on my bed staring at the grey wall, unmoving, uninterested. This had become ritual, habitual almost in the last ten years, the ten years that she has disappeared. A knock on the plain wood door. Zeke. Again. When will he realize that I just don't want to play fucking capture the flag anymore.
Whatever.
"Four! Open this damn door before I break it down."
I flop back on my bed and pull the black comforter over my head again.
"GO AWAY ZEKE."
"NO, get your lazy, depressed ass out here. You are supposed to be teaching the new initiates this year and they are almost here and you have yet to meet the person assisting you."
I groan and roll out of bed, bare feet hitting the cold cement floor of my apartment. I don't want to get up and face the rest of Dauntless, I don't want to help more of the sniveling whelps that call themselves initiates, and I don't want to accept the reality that she's not coming back.
More pounding on the door. It's starting to make my hangover worse as I debate grabbing another beer out of the fridge, cause maybe if I drink enough, I can forget and my problems will just…
More incessant knocking.
"GO THE FUCK AWAY ZEKE." He doesn't get it and my door swings open, slamming against the wall. His dark eyes survey me from underneath a layer of messy fringe.
"You need to stop this Four." He's right but I can't. I've tried and I can't.
"What would she say if she saw you like this? Drinking yourself into oblivion and moping around your apartment all day." He spits the words out at me and I know that it's no secret why I am like I am now.
"It's been ten bloody years Four. She could very well be dead, no one has ever heard from Tris since she left. You're not the only one that lost someone."
I gaze at him through a fog of hangover induced stupor as he glares at me, and he should glare at me, he has every right to, he lost his wife, Shaun; to the war that took place almost twelve years ago now.
That doesn't stop me from growling at him though as he shoves me into the still cold shower, still clothed.