A/N: Ready for a little sweetness, folks? Yeah, you are. You know you are.
As always, please R&R because your support keeps me going! :D
Three days had passed since my first session with the fear landscapes and I was still jumpy. I wasn't sleeping right, either. But it wasn't all just from the sim. Part of it was because of the damned sling on my arm that kept me from laying on my side and getting comfortable in bed. I was seriously hating this stupid thing. But I couldn't take it off. My muscles and joints needed to heal and they couldn't do that if I was trying to move them all the time. It was just downright aggravating.
But today I was watching sparring matches. And holy hell, Gabe was getting better every single round. He was definitely heading in the right direction for Security Patrol. I cheered him on like it was a sporting event. Nearly fell off the little half wall I'd managed to perch myself on a couple times, too. I couldn't help it. I was so proud of him.
Then Gabe did this awesome move we'd seen Four pull off once before where he used the momentum of a lunge to flip his opponent head over heels and onto his back. It was one of the most epic defense-to-offense switch-ups I'd ever seen. I squealed with excitement and bounced up and down, damn near falling off the bricks yet again.
But a strong hand pressed flat against my back and kept me from toppling backwards. Surprised, I looked up and over to my left to see who could possibly be as unoccupied as I was today. Another jolt of surprise ran through me to see the side of Eric's face. The fear simulation flashed in my mind, but he didn't see the terror that entered my eyes for that brief instant. He was watching Gabe's match as if he hadn't even touched me at all.
"I see you're feeling better," he stated simply, still watching the Initiates on the floor.
"Um... Yeah..." I ripped my gaze from him and pretended to be watching the others instead. "A bit."
"And your fear sim didn't go so well."
I frowned. "No."
"You'll get better at it. You always do."
That downright shocked the living hell out of me. If I hadn't been already sitting, I might have fallen to the floor on that one. Did Eric actually say something... genuinely nice? I couldn't believe it. I was speechless.
"Hey, girlie!"
I looked over to see Alex jogging up with a silver pouch in his hand. His steps faltered for only a second when he saw Eric standing beside me, but he kept approaching. He held out the little pouch and a straw once he'd gotten close.
"Doc told me to bring you this. Med pouch."
"Thanks, Alex." I gave him a smile like nothing was going on and took the pouch from him. Doc had been sending them twice a day. A little cocktail of vitamins and pain killers and other meds to help everything heal up properly. Not the best tasting things as far as meds went but it was better than a handful of pills.
Alex gave me a smile of his own before nodding to Eric in respect. "Eric."
Eric grunted and nodded just a fraction of an inch. "Initiate."
And that was the end of that. As Alex turned and jogged off, I watched him. He'd been filling out fast these last couple of weeks. His shoulders had gotten broader, muscle roping around his arms and legs, defining clearly all over his body. Which, of course, I'd seen back at the dormitory. We didn't go as far as to see each other naked in there, thankfully. All of us had reached that agreement on the first day. We'd see nothing less than underwear on the opposite sex, no matter what. And it had been working out perfectly so far. But guys had a tendency to walk around without their shirts on in there, so it was unavoidable to notice how toned they were getting. How all our bodies were changing.
I felt the pouch being pulled from my hand, and I blinked up at Eric. He thrust the straw through a little white dot and handed it back to me. "Better drink up, Ronnie. We need that arm of yours to heal fully. I still want to see you put two daggers into the heart of one of those targets."
I sipped from the straw obediently, still in awe about how Eric was acting today. It was just so strange to not see him cold and angry. I had no idea what to really do with the situation. He just stood there, hands clasped behind his back, feet set shoulder-width apart, watching the sparring matches.
"Eric?"
Jeez, my voice sounded so small when I finally got up the nerve to speak. It annoyed me just a tiny bit, but I assumed it was safer to seem innocent for the moment. I didn't feel like I had the energy for an emotional roller coaster today. I peeked up at him without lifting my head too much. If he wasn't going to make it obvious that were were somewhat conversing, I wasn't about to either. He glanced back at me for a second before going back to his observations.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
My eyes fell to the pouch in my hand. "For saving me."
He didn't say anything. I felt a little pang of rejection, as if he didn't want me to feel like he had saved me for any reason other than I was a promising future member of the faction. And that kind of hurt a little.
Until I felt the slightest of brushes on my spine from his thumb.
I huffed with effort as I picked up another dagger, feeling the familiar weight of it between my index finger and thumb. Screw the doc. I was sick of not being able to do anything. Sick of standing on the sidelines. Sick of being too afraid of my first sim failure to ask Four for another shot at it. Sick of the confusion I'd been swimming in for three days now because of the way Eric had been acting.
I kept my body turned away from the targets down at the other end of the room, lifting my left hand over my head and grunted as I flung the blade at the blue plexi. I missed the outline of the target and the steel blade clattered noisily to the floor. Again. Fucking shit! I slammed my fist on the table. This was driving me crazy. I couldn't hit the fucking target for shit with my right arm restricted like it was. And it was seriously pissing me off.
Part of me wanted to cry. To scream. Throw a massive hissy fit right there on the cold cement floor. I hated that I felt so damn useless right now. I could barely do anything in my condition when it came to my training. I couldn't run. I couldn't do push-ups. I couldn't spar. Couldn't throw my damn knives.
"You're going to have to adjust your stance to compensate for the loss of your arm."
I sighed, not even bothering to lift my head to watch him as he walked up to me. One thing that had become blatantly apparent about Eric over the past five weeks was that he could sneak up on anyone. Especially me. At least this time it didn't catch me by surprise. I was just too frustrated to even care at this point.
"I am adjusting my stance, Eric. I can't do it. I'm missing every time."
"Come here." His hands took hold of my hips. Gentler than he'd ever been during any training session I'd had with him. But he still had enough firmness in them to easily move me where he wanted me to be. He tapped the inside of my foot with his boot. "Spread your legs just a little. Shoulder-width. Center your gravity between your feet. Keep your core tight. You're moving your whole upper body and that's not helping anything. It's only throwing you off."
He kept moving my body around until I was standing more like someone would with a bow and arrow. He straightened my left arm out and turned my head so that I was looking down it almost as if it were the barrel of my rifle. Then he pulled it back, bending my elbow and bringing my hand to my ear. Another straight stretch out and he released his hold on my arm just above my wrist.
"Fluid. Level. Not over your head. It's one motion, not twenty. When you go to release it, lean forward on your leg only a fraction to push the follow-through."
Then he handed me a dagger off the table and stepped back. I looked at him as he folded his arms over his chest and he titled his head in the direction of the target. I was doubtful, but I did like he'd shown and instructed. I centered myself between my feet. Brought the sharp metal beside my face instead of over my head. Leaned forward just slightly as I quickly straightened my arm out and released.
THWACK.
I stood in shock for a second. I hit the target. Dead center in the chest. I looked back at Eric, my eyes wide. He merely smirked back.
"I told you."
"I've been in here for over an hour trying to do this."
"I know. And you've been getting worse with every try because you're getting too emotional about it. You have to learn to remove yourself from your feelings, Ronnie. They only get in your way."
I looked away then, down at the table in front of me. "Is that what you do? Remove yourself from your feelings?"
I expected anger. I was used to that. But it wasn't what I got. I got flat out honesty.
"Yes."
I toyed with a blade on the old wooden surface, spinning it around and sending little flashes of light into my face. "Why?"
"Because emotion can get you killed."
I dared a glance up at him. He'd moved closer. "Not always, Eric. Sometimes, it can save your life."
"Sometimes. But not very often."
I sighed, pushing the blade away. "Eric..."
But the words just wouldn't come out easily. It was almost laughable. A Candor unable to speak her mind for once in her life.
"What?"
"I.." I huffed again. My gaze went to the ceiling, then around the room before settling back on him. "What are you playing at? I mean, really. Why do you do this to me? And why me? I just don't get it. I don't. You're so confusing. It's frustrating."
He stayed quiet for a long while. I felt a tugging in my chest. The feeling of wanting to cry. I couldn't do this anymore. I started to pass by him, to leave him in his silence, when he suddenly reached out and held it out level with my waist so I walked right into it. His other hand came around and grabbed my hip, spinning me to face him. I crashed into his broad, muscled chest, the thin fabric of his shirt the only thing separating my hands from his skin. I looked up, hopelessly confused at this point. His arms held our bodies together as his lips came down on mine. A softer kiss than any he'd given before, but emotion-ridden just the same.
"I'm trying, Ronnie," he murmured against my lips. "For you."
Then he let me go. I stumbled back, breathing heavily and weak-kneed. But he didn't move from where he stood. He was letting me walk away this time. So I did, glancing back several times before turning the corner and losing sight of the most confusing man I'd ever known in my life.
