Disclaimer: I do not own and did not write the Divergent Trilogies, and consequently do not own any of the characters from the book.
Hey guys I'm back! I've been meaning to post sooner but you can't post what's not there... and the garden at my house requires very serious attention. I don't think I could physically bring myself to trim another hedge though. It's been a tough couple days.
Also this fic have officially been posted on AO3! It's under the same name under the account Lily_L_Jeyna... If any of you are interested in popping along to support it a little over there :)
Chapter 14, Tris
"Back again, are we?"
Tris had been climbing up the stairs while silently cursing the lack of elevators and the fact that Peter owned a loft apartment, when she ran into the nice old lady who lived downstairs of Peter on the fifth floor landing. She smiled warmly up at her and Tris couldn't help but pull her own face into an awkward smile as well.
"It's nice to see the boy finding himself a lovely girl and settling down." She commented sincerely, "he's such a sweetheart. You've got yourself a keeper." The old lady added, nodding at Tris, who could do nothing but continue smiling and nodding back. After all, she was rather reluctant to explain the large, complex mess that she and Peter was in at the moment, especially since she wasn't even sure she understood herself.
But after today, all might seem clearer, she thought, and continued the task of climbing the stairs.
Immediately after she knocked, the door swung open and Peter's warm grin and baby blue apron greeted her at the doorway.
"Right on time!" He said cheerily, ushering her into the dining area and pulling up a chair at the table with his oven-mitted hand. "I hope you like lasagna!" He chirped.
"Actually, I'm kind of allergic to the pasta sheets." Tris remarked with a deadpan face, trying to resist the urge to smile when Peter's face became the splitting image of panic and disappointment.
"You're not serious."
She couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing. Peter stared at her with utter confusion. "Oh, my lord, Peter, you should have seen your own face!" She gasped in between giggles and hiccups.
Peter sighed and dug the plate of lasagna out from the oven, splitting it onto two plates. Tris had to admit that it smelled simply delicious.
"Mhmm. That does smell good." She sighed.
"Trust me, it tastes even better." Peter promised. And it did.
As they sat and ate silently across each other, Tris wondered why it was so hard to bring up the subject that she had intended to discuss for so long. Just open your mouth, she instructed herself, ask. Ask about that night, ask about what he wants.
But for some reason the words keeps getting drowned out in her throat. Eventually she gave up and settled for small-talk instead, thinking that she had the whole afternoon to get there.
"Ran into that old lady again downstairs." She informed him. Peter looked up from his plate.
"Oh, Mrs. Whitehall? She's the sweetest."
"She seems to be under the impression that you have found yourself a nice girlfriend in me." Tris probed experimentally.
"Yeah. She seems to be fixated on that idea. Pretty sure she has labelled me her adoptive grandson by now. Embarrasses me every time when I bring girls over."
Tris found herself looking up at this, surprised. "And you do that often?"
"Nah. Just friendly chilling out with co-workers from the office. Sometimes they turn into dates, but very rarely. Haven't had much luck with romances and stuff. Not that I try very hard."
"And why is that?" She questioned, now genuinely interested.
"I don't know. I guess is old Candour habits rubbing off on me. I don't like to do things I don't mean and I've never really been interested in having a romantic thing with any girls I've met before. I've never been a fooling around kind of guy. Molly used to tease me about having a chronic fear of girls. Especially the kissing part."
"Wait, you meant to say that you've never…" Tris asked, trailing off as she became increasingly horrified.
"Kissed a girl before?" Peter finished the question for her, grinning weakly. "Nope."
"So, the other night. That was your…? I was your…?"
"First kiss? Yeah."
Peter's cheeks were now red as beetroots under Tris' wide-eyed stare. He ran a shaky hand through his hair as he finally looked up to meet her gaze, as opposed to studying the fillings in what was left of his lasagna.
"Why are you looking at me like that? Did I do something wrong? Was it a bad kiss?" He inquired uncomfortably.
"What? No!" Tris suddenly exclaimed, startled at the wrong impression that she seemed to be giving him. She sighed and hesitated. How could she begin to explain what it felt like?
It certainly wasn't a bad kiss. It wasn't a hot kiss, either. Not because of the quality, but because a hot kiss was something you labelled a passionate making out session when you're deeply in love and desperate to take in all that your lover was.
That kiss… It wasn't all that. It was more like a hug- holding each other close as everything around them slipped away from reality. It wasn't explosions or fireworks; it was lovely, childish paper cuttings. It wasn't burning fire; it was glowing Dauntless coal. It was warm, sticky caramel covering an apple; it was sweet wind blowing over springtime meadows; it was like nothing she's ever had before.
It was perfect.
"It wasn't a bad kiss." She reassured, frustrated for lack of a better word. "Not at all. It was really nice."
"Yeah? Cool. I liked it too." Peter mumbled.
"So," Tris asked, deciding to test her luck again. "You said that you didn't kiss girls unless you meant it. So when you kissed me…"
Peter smiled a very un-Peter-like smile, timid and uncertain. "I meant it. For real. I really did."
Tris let out a long breath. She didn't know what she was hoping for, or if she should feel relieved, happy, or disappointed. But at least they both felt the same way, that's a solid start.
"So, where do we go from here?"
"Wherever you like. The world is your oyster." Peter shrugged, grinning once again, then, as an afterthought, he added, "I personally would love to ask you out on a date. But as I said, totally and completely up to you."
"Hmm…" Tris replied, cocking her hair to one side and pretending to ponder the choice over carefully. Even though she knew already that her answer was going to be yes. "I don't know, what kind of date do you have in mind?"
"Something nice. Something we haven't done already. Like a picnic down at the beach at ten in the evening."
"Sounds fun." She agreed, even though secretly she wasn't a huge fan of beaches. But she knew she was quite a big fan of Peter at that point, so that was okay. "Consider me in."
They grinned at each other like the big dorks that they were, until Peter stood up and collected their now finished plates.
"I'll text you, then." He said from in front of the kitchen sink.
"Mhmhm, yeah." Tris replied half-heartedly. "I have to go. Promised Caleb I'd help organise his apartment."
"Oh. Okay."
"Thanks for the lunch, by the way. Loved the cooking."
"Ha. No problem. Feel free to drop by for food whenever you feel like."
"Yeah. Will do. The lasagna was so much better than spaghetti, though."
Peter turned around at this and followed her to the front door. "How very dare you." He said with a fake pout, leaning against the doorframe.
Tris laughed and stood up on tiptoes, pecking him on the cheek and turned to head down the stairs, hearing the faint click of the door as it shut behind her.
She pulled another old book off the shelf, coughing at the dust that had been thrown into the air by the movement. Out of the corner of her eye she could make out her brother with a book in each hand, deciding the order in which to stack them.
"The Merchant… Of Venice." She read from the worn hardcover.
"That one stays." Caleb commanded, looking over in her direction.
"Caleb," Tris sighed, "you haven't thrown a single book away this entire afternoon."
"Yeah, I have." Her brother protested, pointing at the pathetically thin pile in the corner of the room, "those."
"Where did you even get this many books anyway?" Tris muttered as she picked up the entire collection of William Shakespeare's Star Wars.
"I got first dibs when they gave them away after the War, during the reform of the library."
As factions have been eradicated, it was decided that the library should be made public rather than enclosed in the Erudite quarters as it had been before. Now it was its own building right next to the town hall, expenses paid for by the City Council.
"So Chris tells me you guys made up." Caleb remarked casually.
"Yeah. I do hope so." Tris replied. "I get the feeling, though, that she still disapproves of my association with Peter."
"You have to understand, Beatrice, that he hurt her too. Just because you've put down the past doesn't mean she will. Not so fast, at least."
"Yeah." Tris mumbled halfheartedly, reminded of all the childhood lectures she received from him on the spirit of Abnegation and whatnot.
"You know, you've never expressed your view on the matter." She remarked a moment later, noticing how he left without commenting the other night.
Caleb shrugged. "What views?"
"Do you have no problems with this whole thing at all?"
"Beatrice, you know I don't hate Peter as you all did. By the time I met him, things had already been in chaos. There had been no room for the violence and general jerkiness that you described. Survival comes first. Plus, I think I was the least of his concern. We left each other relatively alone most of the time."
"Fair enough." Tris replied, picking up another series of books and stacking them on the shelf above, not even bothering to ask Caleb if he wanted to keep it, knowing the answer would be yes anyway.
"I just want you to be careful, and not to do something you would regret, or something that would hurt you."
"Yeah. Okay. Noted."
They worked in silence for about half an hour. Moving around each other in the room like some sort of harmonised waltz. Tris loved the tranquility. She loved the unquestioned co-ordination and the feeling of her brother's strong presence. Silent yet unwavering.
It brought back memories of their teenage years, when they had been old enough to cook but young enough to not have gone into the different factions that they did yet. When they would cut up vegetables and boil water and cook plain chicken breasts, dividing the tasks up between them, not communicating but feeling their bonds strengthening with each passing second.
In those scarce moments, it was undeniable that they were siblings.
"You never told us what happened," Caleb asked finally, his voice evidently tentative and uncertain, as if he wasn't sure if he would get an answer, "with Dom."
Tris felt her shoulders stiffen immediately. Caleb and Christina rarely mentions him but whenever they do, it makes Tris extremely uncomfortable. Tris couldn't quite put her finger on it but she suspects it was because of the way they addressed the man- Dom. The way they spoke his name made it sound like they still liked him, which Tris guessed they did. It made it sound like they were talking about some classmates from school with whom they lost contact with. It made it sound casual, and not at all close to the horrifying event that Tris had to endure.
She had to remind herself that it wasn't their fault and that she had never told them the truth and given them a reason to think differently. Still, it unsettled her deeply.
"I know you guys broke up. We were able to work out that much. But the way you acted… It makes one think there was something much more than that."
There was. There was. Oh, Caleb, you have no idea.
"Did you guys fight? Did he dump you?"
I wish I could tell you, dear brother, I wish desperately that I could.
"Beatrice. Whatever it is, you can count on me. I know I haven't given you much reason to trust me in the past but that's over. Whatever happens, I'm here for you. Whatever you do, I'll stand by you."
But don't you see. Don't you see, Caleb, that you're not the problem? It's me. I wish I was strong enough to tell you. But I'm not. I have never been strong enough.
"Christina and I. We'll both stand by you."
Tris gulped and looked up into those sincere, light green eyes of her brother. She nodded slightly. "I know." She croaked. "Thank you."
She wished she could tell them how much love and care she could feel from them. She wanted them to know that she appreciated it so much, that even if it didn't look like it, she would not have made it this far without both of them.
"It's complicated." She took a deep breath and explained, ignoring the concerned and confused look on Caleb's face. "I'm not ready to explain all of it yet, and I don't know when I'll be. But I will. One day I will tell you and Chris about it. I promise." And this time, she meant it.
Caleb nodded and smiled at her. She smiled back.
Bloop! There it was! No Imagine Dragons references this time :D Solid bro/sis bonding tho! I'm trying to develop all relationships and breaking out of the 'set pairs' of interaction to give the story more depth and direction! Tell me how you liked it!
Sorry for all of you A/N fans... it's really too late and I'm anxious to get to bed. So I'm gonna have to leave it here.
I will say one thing though... William Shakespeare's Star Wars is an actual thing! Written by Ian Doescher... these are not the droids for which thou search'st... LOL it's great.
Anyway, goodnight y'all :)