So did any of you guys see Insurgent? What were your views on it? Personally, I loved it, but it lacked the sense of character as barely any of Tris' friends properly talked to her. Obviously, my favorite scenes were the ones with Peter in them xD
Enjoy this chapter :P
The pressure of Peter's large hands woke me up the next morning. I moaned slightly when I felt that my back was completely moist in a warm substance. He must be rubbing in the cream. I lift my head lazily to let him know that I am awake. I try to raise my ass but I feel his torso pressing down on it and smirk slightly. "Morning,"
"Morning," Peter replies, "Does it hurt?" I glance at my shoulder and shake my head.
"No," I say. "Is it looking better?"
"Much better," he says.
He climbs off me before I am tempted to get up, but I press my chest into the mattress when I realize that my shirt is off. I smile to myself and rest my head back, listening to Peter behind me. By the sounds of it, he is zipping up his pants.
"You took my shirt off," I state. I feel him grinning when he talks.
"How else was I going to rub your back?" he purrs. The seduction in his voice makes me shudder.
"I think you were looking for an excuse to get me naked," I bite my finger as I wait for an answer. Since when did I become so bold?
"You're not naked," he says. "You still have your pants." The bed sinks near my hip where Peter takes a seat.
"Still very exposed," I turn my head as far as my neck would let me to look at Peter. He notices my discomfort and shifts onto the floor. I smile as he leans in closer to me and rests his head on his wrists.
"Come to work with me tonight," his breath is on my face.
"Near the fence?" My eyes scan his face. He looks determined. Although, I'm not sure what the determination is for.
"I don't want you to get lonely," he says. I feel my heart sink when he says that. His Candor is showing; he can't lie to me. It's obvious that he only wants me to tag along because he is afraid somebody else will come and beat the shit out of me. "What?" I fake a smile when he furrows his eyebrows.
"Nothing." That doesn't seem to convince him.
"I see it in your eyes. What's the matter?" he grazes my lip with his finger and I look down, sighing in defeat. There is no point in avoiding this.
"Nobody's going to come back," I breathe. I flinch as he cups my face with one hand and look up at him.
"I know they're not," he says. My eyes travel down to his lips.
"No, it's not that," I clear my throat. "I just... I want you to know that I can stand up for myself."
"What are you talking about?"
"I let my guard down the last time. I wouldn't let it happen again if somebody attacked me."
His expression softens when I realize that he understood what I was saying.
"I know that," he says. "You're the bravest person I've ever met. You're a survivor." Peter's fingers skim my jaw line, making the corner of my mouth twitch upwards.
"Then why do you act like I'm in need of constant protection?" I sense a tone of frustration in his sigh as he closes his eyes and opens them a while later.
"I want to protect you, Tris," he concludes. "I've never felt that way towards anybody before. Generally I wave it off and save my own ass. But with you it's different."
I bite my lip and check his dark eyes for anything he might be hiding. But I don't see anything.
"I know you lost the only protector you had," I gulp and glance down. "And I know that you don't trust me, but none of that matters to me. I'm just happy you're here with me."
I blink away the tears that are threatening to spill. How the hell is Peter Hayes capable of saying such affectionate things, and being so right at the same time? I fear that he'd notice the moisture in my eyes and keep them cast down. Unfortunately, he does. Quickly, I try to avert his attention.
"So we're going to your workplace?" A small smile creeps onto my face.
"If you want," he replies. "It'd be more fun for both of us."
A stifle a sniff and look up at him when I'm certain that the wetness on my eyes has subsided. "Yeah, okay." I watch as Peter flashes his grin at me and close my eyes.
I should run away now. Before I fall in love with him and get hurt again. But something pulls me closer to him instead of repelling me from him. I don't think he lied about what he said. For the first time I actually felt him reaching out to me and making me warm. The cold ice that froze my soul has finally begun to melt.
Suddenly, I feel his warm lips brushing past my shoulder and making their way to my neck. Automatically, I turn to lie on my side for him to get better access. Shit, what if he can see my boobs? I take hold of his head and try to guide it in the direction of my lips. Successfully, his lips meet mine and I smile against them as he chuckles.
Before Peter has the chance to do anything, I reach around me and pull the covers over my chest. I don't think he cares because the aggression he adds to the kiss nearly bruises my lips. We move our lips together passionately. I reach up and grip his hair tightly when he pushes me onto my back. I barely feel the sting.
He pulls away abruptly and I feel his heavy breathing hitting my face. I open my eyes to see him staring down at me. "I want to fuck you." My heart skips a beat and suddenly I'm feeling brave.
"Then do it." His eyes are darker than I've ever seen them. I can feel my face heating up and I pray to God that he doesn't see me blush.
"Not yet," he whispers. I let out a sound that is something in between a moan and a gasp. "I'll fix you some breakfast."
Afterwards he stands up and leaves.
I find that I am able to wear tight shirts without them irritating the injuries on my back. The cream Peter used really worked well. I stand looking into the mirror for the first time in two days. I almost don't recognize myself. I started applying make-up that Peter brought for me along with the clothes that day. I don't look tired anymore. And I am smiling. Oh, and I finally put on a bra which feels like I haven't worn in forever.
"Ready?" Peter calls out, running a hand through his hair. I turn and smile at him. He is wearing a Dauntless jacket, and he left his hair uncombed. That makes the two of us. My hair is too short to comb anyway, a good pat will do. I look back into the mirror to check I that I am wearing the right clothes: black pants; brown boots; white tank top and a blue button-down shirt over it. I have missed one of the factions: Abnegation.
"Yeah," I say as I follow him out of his apartment.
Peter is working later than usual. Apparently somebody in his department couldn't make it, so now he is covering for that guy. I glance at him from my seat as we drive down a badly lit road. His eyebrows are furrowed, as if somebody just pissed him off. I smirk slightly and reach out to tap his shoulder. Immediately, he breaks away from his thoughts and grins at me.
"Are you excited to accompany me on this delightful stakeout?" He murmurs. I giggle and answer.
"I am excited. But I wouldn't call it a stakeout." From the front window, I see the lights on the fence flickering brightly.
Peter parks his car near a dark building I haven't seen before. There are some men equipped with torches at the entrance, laughing hysterically at something. I turn my head to the left and see that a part of the fence is already destroyed. Not a major part, but there is a definite gap which would allow three trains to pass through at the same time. I get out of the car after Peter and give him a small smile when he takes my hand and leads me towards the entrance.
I watch as Peter greets his colleagues. They are all alike in terms of body figure. They have broad shoulders and bulging muscles, threatening to rip their shirts. I tear my gaze away from them and smile at Peter as he introduces me.
"Err, this is Tris Prior," he points at me with his thumb. One of the guard's jaw drops.
"Tris Prior? As in Beatrice Prior?" he lowers his torch. I cast a nervous glance at Peter before answering.
"Yeah, that's me."
"It's an honor, Miss Prior," I blush as the tallest guard kisses the top of my hand.
"Y'know it sounds weird when you start repeating her name," Peter says. I am thankful for the utterance as it evicts some laughs from the guards.
"Sorry, it's not every day you get to meet the savior of the city," one of the guards says.
"I'm not a savio-"
"Are you here to inspect our workplace?" The guard that kissed my hand asks, interrupting me.
"No, I'm just-"
"Actually, she's here with me. Keeping me company," Peter says, wrapping his arm around my waist. One of the guards wolf-whistles before his friend lets out a chuckle and I look down.
"Go on in," Peter takes his badge from someone and leads me into the building. I press myself against Peter and watch my feet as we walk, hearing the crowd of men laughing behind me.
"Well, that was embarrassing," I say. Peter squeezes my hip and turns around the corner.
"It's fine. They've just never seen a celebrity before," he explains. I wouldn't call myself a celebrity. I reject that title. What really did I do? I killed most of my friends during the war; got my parents murdered; lost Tobias; made my brother flee away and now they call me a hero. The truth is that everybody hates me. It's the people who don't know me that think I am amazing.
I am not.
"Make yourself comfortable," Peter says as he opens a door. I walk in and look around in awe. Dozens of computer screens cover the walls. They are stacked on top of each other and curve so that if you stand in the middle of the room, you can see them all clearly. Peter closes the door behind us and I turn to look at him. "Basically, we need to look out for suspicious behavior."
I glance at a screen on my right and see the guards we passed minutes ago, still laughing and talking amongst themselves. It must be their break.
"It's a very important job. I must ensure that nobody stops the process of demolition. We deal with a lot of lunatics."
I walk over to a desk chair and sit down slowly, keeping my eyes on the screens. Their cameras seem to be planted everywhere. There are about four behind the wall, three near the exit and the rest in the compound.
I feel Peter rest his hands on my shoulders and smile. I put my hands on top of his, standing up. "Here," I say. He gives me a curious look but obeys and sits in my spot. I get down on his lap and press my back against his chest. His arms twist around my waist and keep me from sliding off of him. We stay like that for a while before he speaks again.
"My family died too, you know," his breath is hot on my ear. I furrow my eyebrows slightly as he continues. "My mum, dad and sister."
"I didn't know you had a sister," I say, trying to change the subject. But he carries on.
"I hated you for that. I regretted ever helping you in the Erudite compound. I couldn't forgive you," he whispers. I look up at the cameras instead of his hands.
"Is this supposed to make me feel better?" I croak. His chest falls and rises quickly, letting out a pointless breath.
"No," he says. I feel my face getting hotter as his grip on me tightens. This is exactly why I can't trust him. He acts like he is about to murder me.
I turn my head and look into his eyes bravely. They are dark with rage. Suddenly, I regret turning to face him when his fist connects with my stomach. I groan and try to get up from his lap, but he keeps my pressed against him with his arms. "Peter, please!"
I shriek when he slams my head against one of the screens in front of me.
With a gasp, I jump in Peter's lap and look around in fear. I am in the same room, but something is different. His hands are still around me, but they are gentle.
"Tris, hey," I widen my eyes as I turn around to look at him. My heartbeat calms down when I realize that I was dreaming. His expression is soothing and shows clear concern. "You okay?"
I take a minute to look around again. I spot a wall clock and furrow my eyebrows when I see what time it is. Ten past midnight. We've been here for a while now. I must have fallen asleep.
Peter's touch sends me back to reality and I look down at him again. He pulls away from kissing my shoulder and stares at me. His eyes are alert.
"I tried to wake you. You looked like you were having a nightmare," he says. I sigh in relief when he confirms that the fight I experienced wasn't real. My heartbeat slowly goes back to normal and I nod at him.
"I'm okay," I whisper breathlessly. Peter wraps his arms around me when I press my face into his chest. I try to blink away the look he gave me in the dream, but it seems to be glued to my eyelids.
"Why was six afraid of seven?" he asks. It takes me a minute to realize that he is telling a joke and I shrug, smirking. "Because seven eight nine."
I smile into his chest and shake my head when his body starts vibrating. I look up to see him laughing silently when he slaps one of my hips gently. "That was terrible." I don't know what it is but it cracks me up too. I let out a giggle and shake my head again as he looks into my eyes.
"You loved it," he whispers. I am about to protest but as fast as a bullet, his lips are on mine. As we kiss, I recall the dream again. It's not going to simply disappear, I know that. I recall the look in his eyes. It was so different from the Peter I see now. What if that actually happened if he hadn't been taking anger management classes?
He pries my mouth open with his tongue as we swap positions on the chair. A moan escapes my lips when I feel his hand travelling up my shirt. It lingers below my breast as I pull away from his mouth. His lips attack the sensitive spot on my neck and I smile slightly as he pulls me closer.
I open my eyes slightly and widen them at what I see. On the screen that is located near the fence are at least five men armed with guns. They sprint in the direction of the security building, leaving a dead body behind them. "Peter," I gasp.
"I know," he whispers, trailing his lips down my chest. I roll my eyes slightly and push him away, earning a confused glance. It is replaced with terror when he follows my gaze to the screen. I sit up quickly and put a hand on the spot Peter just kissed. Who are they? They are heading here really fast.
"Shit," Peter whispers behind me. I turn around with the chair and watch as he clicks a gun and tucks it under his belt.
"You have weapons in here?" I ask, standing up.
"Prepared for everything," He explains. I gulp when he opens the door and looks around. If I knew that he didn't transfer to Dauntless, I wouldn't ever know about the faction he chose. He is unprotected and stupid. Nobody simply pokes their head out of the door, knowing that there are armed men out there.
"Are you insane?" I yell, pushing him against the wall and shutting the door. He glares at me.
"What are you doing?" He asks, watching me take the gun out of his belt and shoving it into his hands.
"You said you have to be prepared for everything!" I yell again, only causing his face to grow more confused.
Do I really have to do everything myself?
Please review and tell me what you think :)
