Note: New story...not a repost!

"Hello?" I call out into the kitchen as I walk in tentatively. A young girl with red streaks in her hair looks up from the sink and asks, "Are you the volunteer?"

"Yes." Affirming her question, she breathes out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank god!"

"Wait here." She turns towards the far end of the galley and shouts, "WE HAVE A BODY!"

Immediately two voices respond in panicked unison. "WHAT? Another one?" "Who jumped into the chasm?"

I see the redhead roll her eyes, "Not THAT kind of body! We have a volunteer!"

"Oh!" A young man with a shaved head appears from around the corner, wiping his hands on a towel. He studies me as he walks towards me. The furrowed brow and disapproving scrutiny is a bit unnerving. "You're not Dauntless born. You've never baked before." How could he even tell.

"No, but I'm willing to learn."

"Figured, a Stiff."

"Was." I'm a bit annoyed at the condescending tone of his assessment.

"Yea sure." He waves for me to follow him and stops in front of a large wooden counter.

"Work here." He hands me a sheet of paper, "Follow this recipe exactly and you can't go wrong. You need to make at least eight trays of this cake. Ten would be even better. No matter how much we make, we keep running out. People here are addicted to this stuff."

Before I even realize what I'm saying, the words fall out of my mouth, "It's that good?"

He looks at me incredulously, "You've been here four months and you haven't tasted the cake?" I shake my head in response. "Why the hell not?"

"I didn't want something to miss if I didn't make it through initiation." It was logical in my mind.

"Well you made it. Try a slice later. It always tastes best when it's still slightly warm." He returns abruptly to whatever he was doing before and leaves me with just the recipe and the hope that I know what I'm doing.

I grab an apron and tie it around my waist while reading over the recipe carefully. It sounds simple enough. I gather all the ingredients from the refrigerator and pantry and set to work.

Two and a half hours in, the aroma of cake wafts through the kitchen. It's smells absolutely heavenly. I'm pouring the last sheet tray of cake batter when the timer goes off. Opening the oven, I stick a toothpick into the cake making sure it is baked evenly before removing it to cool. I grab a tray that has been cooling for 30 minutes. The frosting is just about ready to be applied. I've been working along side the redhead while she was rolling out biscuits and chopping vegetables but all in complete silence. I'm about to ask if she wants a slice but she's no where in sight. I remind myself to shed my Abnegation tendencies and set to serving myself first.

Picking up the chocolate square with my fingers, I take a small bite. I've never tasted anything so heavenly in all my life. It's soft, moist and sinfully sweet...completely decadent that my eyes unconsciously close and I let out a moan in appreciation.

Before I get a chance to fully swallow, a large hand grips my wrist and a mouth devours the rest of the cake right out of my fingers.

My eyes pop open in annoyance at the interruption. I'm not surprised by who I see in front of me. I've seen him everywhere this week - never looking at me but always there. It makes me wonder if its planned rather than coincidence.

"Excuse you. What are you doing?"

"Eating cake," Eric says matter-of-factly with a glint of mischief in his eye.

"Why can't you act like a normal person and ask for your own slice?" I'm tugging my hand back but of course it's useless.

"Cause it tastes better on you," he smirks and starts licking each of my fingers clean of chocolate icing slowly and suggestively. His eyes remain trained on me unabashedly while I feel my entire body flush in embarrassment. I can't bring myself to look back at him directly.

"Are you finished?" I'm trying to appear unaffected.

"Hmm...alm-"

A loud crash interrupts his reply and we both jerk our head in the direction of noise. The red head's facial expression is etched with shock and...disgust. Eric's playful demeanor instantly changes but he doesn't release me. I'm in absolute horror - I can feel crimson paint my face. "Eric..." I urge him to give me back my hand. His eyes remain on the redhead as he takes one last languid taste of my forefinger before letting me go. The standoff between them is pregnant with mutual hatred but Eric doesn't back down. She caves within seconds and sets to collecting the bowls off the ground to be washed.

His face softens and offers me a small smile. "Thanks for the cake."

The moment he's out of the kitchen, the red head huffs angrily at me, "What was that?"

Why is she upset with me? I didn't invite him to eat out of my hand. Feeling defensive, I reply, "Nothing, he stole my cake. Besides, shouldn't I ask you the same question?"

She snarls, "Don't act so smug. He wants you today. Tomorrow you'll be yesterday's trash...like me."

She turns back to her work furiously putting her frustration into cooking. The last two words out of her mouth are so faint, I'm not sure she even uttered them. It's telling how deeply hurt she is.

I take a deep breath wanting to clear the air between us but no matter what I say, it can't change her past or change her feelings. If he can do this to her, he can easily do this to me as well. I pick up the spatula and continue spreading the icing on the cake pushing all thoughts of Eric out of my mind.