Hello everyone! I hope this chapter is playful when it comes to the development of Eric and Cora. Thanks for reading. I hope you all don't mind that I'm revealing past events slowly. Anyway, enjoy!


6 months ago…

"Is that going to sting?" My eyes lock on the needle in Four's hand as I lay on the recline chair.

Four quirks his lip as if he suppresses a smile. "Just a little. Relax, Cora."

"How? Have you seen the others once they go out the door?" I shrug, frowning. "They look sick to their stomach. Even Jared looked like a ghost."

"The first time is the hardest." Four confesses, his hand resting on the chair handle. "It gets easier the more you do it, I promise. Shall we begin?"

I offer him my arm only to receive a confused look. "It doesn't go there?"

He chuckles, his finger touches my neck. "Breath and try to face your fears as best as you can. I'll be here once you wake up."

I don't even feel him inject the serum until my eyes droop.

I lay in darkness. Pitched black. I try to stand, but my head touches the ceiling? On the sides, my arms are confined as if I were inside a box. My breathing grows frantic as I hit the walls and nothing happens. The space gets smaller, constricting my movements. I want to scream, but my voice is lost. Why am I here? My heartbeat slows and I use my feet to kick the bottom of the box until I hear a crack and fall weightlessly.

Water pulls me into its grasp. The waves crash onto me, roaring like that of the Chasm. I look up, seeing faceless figures peering down. Why am I here? I hear my name being called faintly, but the waves continue to tug me until I am underwater. Unlike above, serenity surrounds me so I swim, feeling the water trying to bring me back up. But I don't listen.

I gasp, the coolness of the chair's leather sending shivers from my spine. My breathing isn't shallow, but rather normal. Four looks up from the screen, slightly pale. "How long do you think it has been?"

"30 minutes." It felt longer.

Four frowns, wide eyed. "It was exactly 7 minutes. From the screen, it looked like you gave up your control of each situation and then solved it in seconds. Most initiates do not calm themselves to those levels until their fourth or fifth try."

I sit up, hands resting on my knees. "It was too fictitious. Like the fear proposedly worsen to shake me."

"You aren't supposed to notice that. It is meant to feel real."

I swallow hard. "It wasn't."

The following day, I face two more fears: powerlessness and guilt.

Spiders crawl above me, their bites stinging my body. I feel them everywhere and the panic increases slightly. I roll into the pond, the water passing through my clothes. Out of a sudden, I'm in dim room. Sitting before me is a young boy, hardly older than 10. He stares at me while a voice pressures me to finish the job. The trigger fires and I see the boy fall motionlessly. I press the revolver against my temple.

I'm back in the little room with the quiet leader.

"You shut down the simulation." Four gapes, rewinding the footage again. "Your first action was Dauntless, but your second could count as a –"

"Selfless act," I add, goosebumps forming on my skin.

He's going to kill me. The confession was sealed as well as my fate.

"Cora, don't tell anyone details about your simulations." Four glances from the screen, his expression benevolent. "We'll continue to work on this. The important thing is to face them as a Dauntless would."

I nod and let out a sigh while I stand. I pause at the door and say, "Thank you, Four."


Present

"Your idea is not bizarre at all," Harrison lets out a chuckle, pulling the door leading to the Pit open. "I think it's a good start to something big."

He hands me the notepad filled with all the details of the proposal. "I want you to present this exactly as you did with me. However, be mindful that these faction ambassadors will challenge you. Try to contradict, find fault, anything possible to create a misperception."

I nod, smiling softly. "With all due respect, sir. How are you so…accepting?"

"If we don't change the way we think, there won't be any progress for us to admire."

The response takes me aback because Divergents tend to be seen through a negative eye. Something tells me that Harrison knows beyond what is expected.

"Thank you, sir."

A hand pats my shoulder once. "You belong here, Cora. Don't ever forget that."

Lunch moves along like a train. I spend the time typing on the tablet, copying the notes and fully developing the intricates of this project. I must present the final draft to Eric by night fall. Upon sighting, Usha scolds me for not coming to visit her at the shops.

"Are they working you overtime?" she asks as I let my head drop on the table briefly. "Because you look tired."

"No," I grumble. "It is just today. It's like a slow day, you know. I think I need a nap or something."

"I think there's a cabaret tonight –"

I shake my head. "Another time, Usha. I'm sure Julien wants you to spend time with him too."

"We practically live together, dear." She snickers, resting her head on her hand.

"Ah shit. I need to pick up some groceries!"

"Well, then let's go."

We hustle into the busy corridors of the shops. I purchase the essential first: enough food for days and the restless nights ahead. Usha insists on stopping at the apparel corner and so I let her drag me like it's my first time in the place.

Unlike me, Usha is fancy and extravagant. Originally from Erudite, she resembles an organizational caretaker because her days are always booked with countless of activities.

"When was the last time you bought a dress?"

I frown while seeming pensive. "Spring, I think."

She tosses me a dark, long sleeve dress. "It's mesh on the top. That gives it an elegant, yet seductive tone."

I smile and buy it, no questions asked. The day will come for it to be worn.

"Lunch tomorrow?"

"Are you cooking for me?"

She flashes me a smile. "Just for you though."

Back at the apartment, dinner is light tonight –tomato soup and bread, followed by strawberries. My body refreshes after taking a calm bath, breathing in the smell of lavender. I email Tris, trying to coordinate a day for us to meet. I'd like to get her perspective on things.

Instead of emailing the report, I find myself in front of Eric's door. My eyes widen at the sight of his tank top and boxer briefs. He smirks when my eyes lower for a split second. "Can I help you?"

My face heats up. Did I catch him at a bad time? "Uh –I just wanted to give you… this." I extend the papers as his expression stays smug.

"You can come in," he purrs, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I stutter before responding. "I think that's not wise."

"Get yourself some water because you look a little flushed." He saunters away, putting the glass on the table and disappears into the room.

I close the door behind me as he comes back with sweats on. "Funny man."

He chuckles, skimming through the report. I eye the liquor on the kitchen counter while he's busy. It is vodka, but a type I don't recognize. Peach flavored, all natural.

"Trying to get wasted?" I hum.

"Maybe," he answers absently.

I study the bottle, trying to find any other labels. "Where did you get this? Is this a new product or something?"

He glances over, smirking. "Courtesy of Amity. They also have their own special collection."

Candor didn't really do hard liquor because let's be real, the multitude of quarrels that erupt would drastically increase with the rumbles of an honest drunk man. Wine was a typical beverage because lunches and dinners lasted for long periods.

"Would you like to try it?"

I nod and he serves a full glass for both. "Back to your report," he sighs and places it with a stack of folders. "Good work. I think we are set for the summit."

"Thank you." I murmur, settling into the softness of the couch. I taste the vodka, the sweetness of peach creating a lovely contrast to the usual bitterness. It's the purest liquor I have ever drank. "Can you get me a bottle of this?"

He smirks, nodding once. "Only if you are worthy."

I pout and take another swing, warmth spreading through my stomach. "That's not fair. You have too much power for that matter."

"I guess we'll just have to find out." Eric sits beside me, his thigh pressing against my own lazily. What is he doing? "How about we play a little game?"

"That involves?"

His arm stretches out behind me, but he isn't remotely close. The tips of my ears feel heated again. "Candor or Swig. Ask a question and answer or drink."

"You do realize you're speaking to a former Candor." I snort, feeling ultimately relaxed. He offers a way for us to find out more about each other. With alcohol in the mix, our secrets may be divulged. "Are there any off limits questions?"

"No, you can ask anything." His eyes glint with mischief again. The opportunity of unraveling Eric is tempting to say the least. For once, our interaction turns intimate and curiosity peaks. "You first."

"Fine," I ponder, deciding to start with something simple. "Why did you invite me here?"

He raises the glass to his lips and breaks into a laugh at my annoyed expression. "Kidding. Because I only invite good company." It's short and direct, barely revealing anything.

"Ah, so you do tolerate me?" I challenge, triumph invading my mind.

"Nope, it's my turn to ask." He lets out a chuckle and stares at me. I brace myself for any possible scenario. "How honest are you?"

I pause, shooting a questioning look. "Uh –very. I seldom lie. Out of all the possible questions, you pick that one?"

"Is that your question?"

"No, that doesn't count." I snap, rolling my eyes while I take another sip of vodka. "Now I'm really questioning your motives."

His smug expression pisses me off. "Everything in due time, sweetheart. Give me your worst."

"Does it anger you that people think of you as a traitor?"

His eyes narrow, hardening at the last word. He inhales sharply and gulps a portion of his drink. I wait until he looks at me again, his icy eyes do not give any indication of an answer. "Do you think of me as one?"

The question catches me off guard. Eric has always acted as though opinions were a grain of sand. He never gave two shits about people or their thoughts.

"No." I murmur, feeling his fingertips brush the back of my neck briefly, just enough for goosebumps to form. The buzz from the alcohol has not taken full effect yet, but I feel already intoxicated. "What do you regret most?"

"I'm getting the notion you don't favor yes or no questions." He rumbles low, slightly vexed.

"But that makes it interesting." I purse my lips, amused.

"Points for bravery." He shoots a glare, but doesn't drink yet. "I regret taking part of this game."

I snort. "Right. Why don't we both answer truthfully no matter the question?"

He lets out a dark chuckle, dripping with malice. "Get ready to drink up then." I frown, wondering what his next move would entail. "When did you lose your virginity?"

I stiffen, my cheeks blushing. My eyes study him as vodka hits my tongue. I could have lied to him, invented a split-second story, but I choose not to. Vulnerability did not stir any fear for me. "I haven't yet."

It floors him for a moment. He stays silent, smirking as if he debates whether it's true or not. "You mean there hasn't been anyone?"

Abel has been the closest thing to a romantic relationship, but we were young and naïve. He ended up staying at Candor where he made his desired life as head of the magistrate's court.

"There was someone, but we didn't go far." I respond, eyes never leaving his.

"Name?"

"You don't need to know that, Nose." I tease, feeling light headed. "Now that you have ventured into dangerous waters, it's my turn. How many women have you been with?"

He watches me like a predator and says, "Four." A wave of jealousy surfaces at his confession. It doesn't surprise me that Eric has experience. He's handsome, he's a leader, and a brave icy character. "At the moment, the number is zero."

The last part sends a shudder from my spine. The intensity of his gaze overwhelms me. "Were any of them serious?"

The questions slip from my lips causing an amused expression across his face. "No, they never went that far."

"What a gentleman." It comes out playfully instead of sarcastic. The alcohol buzz puts me in a daze. "Scoot over, Eric. I want to lay down." I pout, lifting my legs after placing my drink on the nearest table. Instead of sliding away like a normal person, he places my legs on his lap.

"It doesn't bother me." I hear him say before raising the glass to his lips. The coldness of his fingertips is hard to ignore and I can't wrap my mind on the current scene.

"You look like a statue from this angle." I giggle and then see the corner of his lips turn into a smile. "Are we still playing?"

"I don't know. Are you still with me on this planet?" he teases subtly, his hand resting on my knee.

"Depends," I reply and close my eyes.

An abrupt movement shakes me awake. I'm still next to a sleeping Eric sprawled in the couch, breathing heavily in the same position. His brows are pulled together fiercely, shuddering repeatedly. I glance at the clock that reads 1:56am.

"Eric," I murmur, already at his side. "It's just a dream, Eric." My hand cups the side of his face gingerly. He relaxes, his arm wrapping around me as I curl against his warm chest.


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