Heyho there my lovelies! Let's continue, shall we? As usual, thank you so much for your sweet reviews! Enjoy! :-)
Breakfast, training, running, punching, climbing, lunch break, dodging, shooting. The next couple of days were so exhausting I had lost count of all the multiple training sessions Four agonised us through.
Forcing us into Dauntless lifestyle surely had one advantage: we had no time to mope about although I had spotted Candor members several times already, crying in a corner when they thought that nobody was looking. And every time, my heart shrank a little further. I still wouldn't cry. Crying symbolised weakness. And I didn't want to be weak. I could deal with my nightmares all alone, when nobody was listening. Except for Marvel, that was.
However, I figured I developed a whole new problem. While I used every possible opportunity to sass Eric's rules, whatever they were, I found myself checking him out more and more often. And shit, physically being attracted to him had definitely not been part of the plan. I felt guilty–every time I looked into his damn blue eyes, I was reminded of Lucas' green ones.
I had dreamt of him last night. About him trying to save me and my sister, before he'd turned into a burning corpse screaming my name. I swallowed hard, trying not to think about it. It was okay. I simply wouldn't approach Eric in any physical way. Not again. My fear of heights stopped me from doing so anyway… if he wouldn't think of a more cruel way to punish me. The last couple of days though, he'd been surprisingly reserved.
Today, we were practising knife throwing. Right in front of us, about fifteen feet away, I spotted blue lit wooden walls with human shapes carved into them. When Four had shown us how to do it properly, it had looked easy–far too easy. The first knife I threw myself didn't even land near the target in front of me.
My eyes narrowed when somebody chuckled behind me.
"Try aiming." Dorian said with an amused expression on his face, grinning as I turned around to face him. Holding back a smile myself, I rolled my eyes. In the whole faction, he'd become one of the very few people who could instantly cheer me up.
"I'm trying, dickhead."
He chuckled again, this time even louder. I enjoyed the cheerful sound although I was quite upset about the fact Dauntless members were wandering around the training hall while we were taught all this serious shit they already knew about.
"I missed you at lunch earlier. Did Eric make you clean something up again?"
"What? No, I just… I wasn't hungry." I had fallen asleep and dreamt of fire zombies.
"He's being strangely gentle with his punishments." Dorian said, pressing his lips together. I grunted as my fingers traced the cold metal of the table next to me. "I don't trust him. I feel like he's just warming up."
His exact words had been I didn't even get started yet after all and I'd been wondering when "yet" would be ever since. I needed to know when to make a run for it. Had it been a warning? An idle threat?
"Well I guess that's his technique. You never know what you're up to when it comes to him. He takes revenge when you least expect it." The blonde grinned at me. "You know, at first I thought you're completely nuts… and I felt bad because of what's happened to you but now… now I reckon that you're brave. Maybe you are Dauntless and you just never knew."
"You're not the first person telling me that."
"And who knows… maybe you'll also be the first person to kick Eric's arse." Stifling the sudden hysterical laughter in my throat was impossible as such. My hand flew to my mouth while Dorian only giggled. Unluckily for us though, Eric himself noticed the fun we were having just now at his expense. I felt my heart pounding when he spoke up.
"Is there something amusing you, Candor?" My smile faded away in an instant as I opened my mouth in an attempt to reply. Dorian, however, was quicker.
"No." He replied, biting his lip so he wouldn't burst out in laughter. "Sorry, Eric. I guess I just made her happy for a second." He giggled under his breath, yet too intimidated to look the Dauntless leader directly in the eye.
"Well then she can happily run ten laps 'round the training hall to warm up and aim better." Eric snapped, his eyes resting on mine for a bit too long. Silent curses left my mouth when I felt the familiar electric shocks flashing through my body.
"I didn't even do anything, Eric."
"You were laughing. That's reason enough to me. Now get going or I'll make it twenty laps."
I opened my mouth once more but was roughly interrupted when Dorian elbowed me. Hard.
"I'm sorry. Just do what he says. I'll see you again for dinner." He whispered, winking at me before he turned to leave.
"Hopefully." Sighing, I started running, ignoring the confused looks the other Candor gave me and painstakingly ignoring how Eric was watching my every move. I bet he counted how many laps I actually ran and would only love to reprimand me if I skipped one.
Zoom. Not even close. Zoom. I cursed myself. Zoom. It didn't get stuck in the wall but at least I had hit the body, right?
"Bend your throwing arm a bit more, Greta." I heard Four say behind me. So I did. But when the goddamn knife finally got stuck in the wall, it still hadn't hit the actual target.
"Oh, come on." Snorting as inconspicuous as possible, I took another knife. My right arm was hurting already. Impatiently, I glanced at the huge clock behind me on one of the pillars. Ten more minutes until dinner.
Zoom. The weapon in my hand landed on the hard ground. A loud clinging echoed through the room.
"How about hitting the target, Candor." I flinched–hoping he hadn't noticed and swallowed my anger in an attempt not to talk back again. I failed pathetically, especially after I could feel Eric's hot breath in my neck.
"How about shoving it up your arse." I murmured, gnashing my teeth. The Dauntless leader froze in an instant, I didn't even have to turn to him to tell. All of a sudden, everything around me seemed to slow down, though I wasn't really sure if it was because of him standing so close to me or the fact that I had just gotten myself in some massive trouble.
"What was that?" Quiet. Quiet was always dangerous, especially with this muscly man behind me.
Before I could reply, albeit, I was interrupted yet again, this time by Four. He crossed his arms, clearing his throat so all Candor members stopped in mid-action.
"Guys, I think that's it for today. Let's call it a night." A relieved sigh escaped my lips. Way too loud. As I turned away to join the others outside to have dinner, Eric grabbed my arm again. Instantly, I felt my whole body heating up, his long fingers burning my skin.
"Not for you, Candor."
No, no, no physical contact!
"I think I asked you a question." He declared as he let go, still surprisingly calm.
Dorian had been right. This was his technique. Fighting back when you least expected it, when you least envisaged it.
"I chose not to reply."
I was playing with fire–different from the dangerous flames in our house. This fire… it was healing me.
"Who are you?"
"What?" I frowned, crossing my arms.
"Who are you." He repeated, mirroring my indignant movement.
Now what would happen if I played along?
"... a Candor. A proud Candor?" To my surprise, he nodded.
"And where are you right now?"
Keep playing.
"In Dauntless."
"Right… and who am I?"
I suppressed a laughter, enjoying how pleasant it felt to use my risible muscle again–even if it probably wasn't at all appropriate right now.
"You do not want me to answer that." I said, arms now akimbo, waiting for him to continue.
When he raised his voice, I took a step back–for safety reasons only, of course.
"I'm your leader. That means you follow my orders. Stop smart-mouthing me."
"I will when you stop mocking me." I interrupted him harshly. Now that was a lie. I knew I wouldn't stop and give up on the only thing that kept me from sobbing in the hallways when people when I felt unseen.
"I've been gentle with you, Candor. After… losing your home… and your family…" He didn't sound compassionate at all. "I went easy on you but you better don't push it." He warned me, his blue gaze boring into my dark eyes. I clenched my fists while trying to get rid of the powerful feeling rushing through me as he did.
The snappy meaning of his words, on the other hand, made me angry. He was taunting me. Taunting me with pleasure, being indelicate to the core. I felt my fingernails dig into my palms while at the same time I cursed myself, for his dark and dangerous voice kept sending pleasant shivers down my spine.
"Fine." I finally said through gritted teeth, ready to leave the training hall. Once more, he held me back–it was when I noticed that we were the only two people left in here. If he was going to inflict some serious pain on me, there wouldn't be any witnesses now. Shit.
"You stay here and keep practising. You can leave once you've hit every single target, dead centre."
"What? That's going to take ages!" And still, I couldn't believe I was actually even considering obeying him. Perhaps I didn't have that much of a choice but I certainly wouldn't give in that easily either.
"So what?"
"You do realise you made me run around the training hall when the others were practising already? It's your fault I lost time."
"I know." He said simply, sitting down on the metal table and crossing his arms. He was waiting. For me to collapse, throw a tantrum or to finally throw those bloody knives, I wasn't sure.
Grunting, I turned on my heel, scoffing in an irked manner and trying to ignore his scrutinizing gaze in my back as I got into position, prepared… and failed.
"You want me to show you how it's done?"
I frowned, glaring back at him. As if he was going to help me.
"Sure."
Eric uttered a sigh behind me. Hearing him mutter "pathetic" under his breath, I clenched my fists and picked up the next knife, gritting my teeth in the process when suddenly I felt his hands grabbing my waist.
What. No. No, no, no, let go of me! This was wrong. He felt protective, warm… strong… goose bumps covered my skin as I licked over my lower lip, beginning to wonder what those hands would do to my body if I lay in front of him in his bed, fully exposed and… no. No, stop!
The knife I was about to throw slipped out of my sweaty fingers, landing several metres from the actual target.
A loud clatter echoed through the training hall.
Eric stifled an amused chuckle. "You didn't call that throwing, now did you?"
His hands were still on me and with every second that passed, I didn't want him to release me anymore. Shit.
Hastily spinning around to face him angrily, however, happened to be an even bigger mistake. I caught sight of his burning and intimidating gaze immediately, his damn blue eyes having my legs go jelly as I felt my heart skipping one beat after another.
So much for no physical contact, damn it.
"Keep your arm steady. And don't stand there like a tin soldier. You have to be flexible. Don't just move your arm that stiffly, use your whole body."
Did I nod? I couldn't tell.
"Throw."
And I hit the target.
Trouble? ;-)
- Stef