I do not own Divergent or any of its characters.
It's her lips that I see first when I open my eyes. I'm smiling despite myself; I love seeing her lips so much. Usually I much rather see her smiling as well, but right now they are pressed into a thin line. Right in this moment I cannot blame her for trying not to show any emotion at all. Her eyes are shut tightly, she looks almost as if in pain. And it seems that she is in pain, not physically but emotionally. Again, I cannot blame her, the guilt still riddling through my entire being; guilt of what I have done to her.
It's her eyes opening that draw me away from her lips. Her eyes that I much rather see bright and full of love. Yet, right in this moment they are boring into me with everlasting disappointment. She does not hide it, and once more I cannot blame her. I'm disgusted with myself, even though I don't even remember fully what happened last night.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispers.
I swallow the heavy lump in my throat and answer in earnest, "I couldn't help it. If I knew-"
She rolls her eyes and moves away from me; I try to follow her but I'm incapable. In frustration I hit my head back onto the mattress. I want to hold her back, keep her with me, but my body just won't budge.
"Wait!" I cry out and she stops mid track, her hand already on the door knob.
She sighs heavily, clearly not wanting to face me again, yet she turns her head towards me. All the love and compassion she used to show towards me up until last night, have seemed to have drained from her. It hurts to know that this is even my own doing. Not really all of it; I had been intoxicated, but I had gotten into this state of mind consciously, deliberately. For my own selfish reasons.
If I had known what would happen, I would have never agreed. I should have known that working for Jeanine would get me into trouble eventually. It's just the worst that could have happened that she would activate the sequence after my first night with the girl I had been longing for for so long.
Leaning on my elbows, I sit up as best as I can and say, "I didn't know I would hurt you." It sounds lame even to my own ears and I cast my gaze to the ground.
I blink repeatedly in surprise when she closes the distance between us in just a few quick steps. When she hits my chest with her balled fists, I wince, but I don't move otherwise.
"You should have known," she chokes out and I see tears streaming down her cheeks. Her beautiful face is contorted into a hateful expression. "You should have known!" she repeats, anger lacing every word. She hits me again and I don't dodge or move away; after all, I can't. And it seems quite fitting because if she weren't hitting me, I'd probably hurt myself for what I've done. That's what I would much rather do than to ever hurt her again.
"You could have stopped it before it happened," she sobs out, slumping down next to me and leans her forehead on my chest, "and yet you didn't."
For a blissful moment she doesn't move away and I bury my nose in her hair. I breathe in her scent and I revel in the feel of her hair against my face. And she lets me; I don't even know why, but she lets me. She holds onto me and crushes the tank top between her fingers, regardless of the blood stains still marking the fabric. I don't even know whose blood it is, might just as well be my own.
"Please," I whisper eventually, "I'll do anything to make this right again."
Her scoff is light and muffled against my chest, and she takes a moment before she lifts her head to meet my eyes. For a moment she looks hopeful, maybe it's only myself who is being hopeful, though. Her lips lift in a cautious smile, but as soon as I reciprocate, the corners of her mouth drop. My hands ache to touch her, but I simply can't.
"Anything?" she all but whispers.
"You know me. I'll do anything in my power for you," I murmur equally as quiet. I smile before I lean down to kiss her. To my surprise she doesn't hesitate to kiss me back and sighs in unison with me. It has only been last night that I kissed her for the very first time, but it feels like we have kissed numerous times before.
Her fingertips caress my jaw tenderly still, even when she breaks the kiss. Both of us breathing heavily, I lean forward as much as I can. Burying my head between her neck and her shoulder, enjoying the softness of her skin, I hear her let out a frustrated sigh.
"What if there is nothing for you to ever make this right again?" she asks and it sounds almost final, not as though she intended to pose it as a question.
Gritting my teeth in an attempt to swallow my pride, I lean back to look at her. I ponder the words for a moment, knowing fully well what they imply before I eventually respond, "Then I'll have to live or die with the consequences."
There is a lingering silence between us and I'm dreading what she has to say next. I fear it will be the last words she will speak to me. But as much as my mind whirls, I cannot bring myself to say anything else.
"I actually thought you loved me," she mutters and it is cutting deep into me. I had just confessed my love to her last night, before all of this genocide shit storm was unleashed. And now she doesn't even believe the last words I have said to her.
"I do. This was never up for discussion," I rush to say and I feel a glimmer of hope when she looks at me. "I know, I didn't tell you everything when I still had the chance. But I was honest with my feelings towards you." She sits up, straightening her back with a shaky sigh. Her eyes remain dead and I curse myself for my stupidity; I should have known, she is right. "I'm still honest with my feelings towards you. Please..." I stammer out as desperation churns my insides.
My hands ball into fists when she gets up, and for a moment she stands before me, just staring down at me. "Please, believe me," I plead with her, "I love you."
She shakes her head as if to shake the earnesty from my words and I catch a glimpse of fresh tears welling up in the corners of her eyes when she turns away. Growling out in frustration as I struggle helplessly against the restraints, I try to follow her but she is out of reach within the blink of an eye.
"If you really loved me, you would have never let that happen."
With those words she is out of the door, locks it and leaves me alone with my guilt. And as I close my eyes, hope dwindles that I will ever be close to those lips again.