A/N: Hey all! Thanks for sticking with me this far. It's been like what? Three months?
Anyway, this chapter is kind of slow-ish, I think? I don't know, I'm quite sleepy right now... I had something which I wanted to write here, something quite important if I remember it correctly, but my brain is really not working well right now and my eyelids are dropping close.
So I hope that you like this chapter and leave a review with your feedback in it, maybe? :)
Guest: Glad to know that you love it!
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Guest: Ahh... There's loads more drama to come ;) Sorry about the cliffhanger, but I wasn't sure on where should I end the chapter. And I decided like, "Hey! Why don't I give it a cliffhanging ending?" I've got to admit that it is kind of evil for me to do it, but yeah :D
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Guest: Thanks :)
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Guest: Thank you! :D For now, I am sticking to my once a week update schedule. But I might post some of the future chapters earlier than they should be posted if I feel like it :)
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Hope: :) You are feeling things right ;) Thank you, I love my Zeke too! Ahh, that article... I hate Tobias for asking Beatrice to write that article. Because I had to write an article about love from her point of view, and it wasn't that easy. But I guess, if you put a lot of effort and dedication in something, it sure will pay off one day. So I have no regrets :) It will take a long time before you get to read the article though. A.K.A., Tobias is not going to read it anytime soon. Why? You'll see ;)
Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent.
I think I'll do one of those "previously... on Arbutus" things!
Previously...
On Arbutus...
"Come on professor... You've got to have your own definition of happiness." Beatrice queries, pushing her professor to get an answer out of his mouth. "You were the one who demanded me to define happiness several weeks ago."
The professor cocks an eyebrow. "Demanded?"
"Yes, you demanded an answer and now I am demanding for you to define happiness."
He taps his forefinger on his chin, eyes shining with mischief as he hums in thought. "Well, it's hard for one to define happiness for happiness is just a state of mind, the way you view things. It doesn't exactly have a definitive explanation for it."
"Professor..."
The professor throws his head in laughter, receiving a slap on his shoulder and an angry scowl from Beatrice as she presses her forefinger to her lips. "Keep it down, we're in a library." She whispers.
"Alright, alright, let me see..." He ponders, his laughter fading out, but his eyes still gleaming. "If Mr. Schulz said that happiness is a warm puppy... Then I will say that happiness is a warm hug from a certain mignonne blond-"
Beatrice punches him in his chest and tries hard to appear angry despite the smile on her face. He breaks into another fit of laughter—a silent one this time.
Beatrice shakes her head at him, still trying hard to hide her smile. "I don't think that is appropriate, Professor Eaton."
"Very inappropriate indeed."
The two of them whirl their heads to find a certain black-haired boy standing a few feet away from them with his arms crossed on his chest.
"May I help you, Mr. Wolt?" Tobias asks, placing his feet on the ground and straightening his back, squaring his shoulders.
Fernando glares at him. "Why yes, yes you may help me by explaining what you are doing here, in a discreet corner of the library."
Beatrice palms her face and shakes her head in frustration.
"Fernando, can you stop being so uptight?" She huffs. "Professor Eaton is just giving me additional philosophy classes."
"In this corner?" Fernando questions, turning his attention towards Beatrice. "I and all other sane humans in this world will prefer the table at the front if our intention is to study."
"Well it seems like we are a rare species then." Professor Eaton retorts.
Beatrice wishes that she can hit the professor's head with a book from her bag as Fernando's tongue runs tangled for a moment before he glowers at him.
"Fernando, if you don't want to leave," she says, holding out a hand to him, her palms facing out. "Then I don't mind. Just don't bother our studies, please."
Fernando scoffs.
"Is this like Stockholm Syndrome?"
Beatrice stares agape at Fernando. "What?"
He marches right up to the professor and points a finger up at him. "What are you planning to do with Beatrice?"
"Help her, Mr. Wolt. I am planning to help her express her views better in her writing and at the same time, get a clearer understanding of what she wants in real life."
"Oh but I think you are just planning to corrupt her mind with all of your filthy thoughts and ideas."
"Well then I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm afraid that none of those are written in my book of intentions."
"Don't pretend to be so pure, you're just looking for a naïve heart to break, aren't you?"
Tobias's eyes harden.
Naïve?
Helen Beatrice Prior's heart is naïve?
Does this kid even know who she is? What she has seen? What she has been forced to live through?
She is wise, she is sophisticated, she is experiences, she is matured- naïve is a disgrace!
"Naïve?" Tobias asks him, cocking an eyebrow.
Fernando tilts his chin up. "Yes. And that's why you are taking chances on her. Torturing her life and degrading her in class then suddenly pretending to be her saviour by saving her from her near death and now helping her with her writing- what kind of twisted mind do you have, professor?"
Tobias pushes himself up from the windowsill.
Fernando takes a step back.
"What kind of twisted, delusional world do you live in, kid?"
Tobias takes another step forward.
Fernando's back hits the sharp edges of a bookshelf.
"Do you believe that you're the chosen one, the only good guy in this world and everyone who goes against you are replicas of the devil?"
Tobias clenches his fingers into a fist.
One more word from that stupid mouth of yours and I swear that I will-
"Well-"
"Stop it!"
A small pair of hands clutches onto his forearm, pulling his fist down from hitting the boy's face.
"Tobias, stop it..." She whispers, voice almost trembling.
His eyes flicker up from their hands to her grey-blue eyes. Her eyes which carries a look of anger and something... something soft.
It almost looks like concern and worry...
For me... or for the boy?
Two librarians march towards the three of them, telling them to leave if they can't keep their silence in the library. Tobias apologises for their misbehaviour, promises that it won't happen again, and pulls Beatrice out of the library with him.
Fernando does not dare to follow them this time.
CCO
Beatrice Prior hugs her knees tightly to her chest with her face in between her arms.
Would she like a hug? Or maybe he should just ask her what is wrong? Or maybe he can make a joke to lighten up the tension between them?
Again, Tobias finds himself helpless and clueless on how to comfort the blonde lady. He knows that all he can do right now is give her some peace and quiet- but it feels odd for him to just sit by her side and say nothing!
Scowling to himself, Tobias picks on the short grass by his crossed legs and stares silently at the ducks in the pond.
Why was she so worried when I was angry?
Was she scared of me?
Was she scared of what I would have done?
Is she angry at me?
"You know," She finally utters, lifting her face to rest her chin on her knees. The scowl on his lips dissipates. "That was the first time I've ever screamed in a library- and I feel so bad for doing it."
A small smile nudges his lips upwards. "You shouldn't feel guilty. That kid was getting out of hand."
"The end does not justify the means, Professor Eaton. Don't tell me now that it is okay to steal because you want to help the poor."
Tobias shrugs, staring at his pile of plucked grass.
"You know, I'm not angry at you."
He frowns.
"I was just worried. You might have gotten yourself fired if you punch a student in the face like what you might have done. I mean, I'm not blaming you for reacting that way. I myself have punched him once. But knowing you, it won't be just a punch."
A cloud of faint pinkish hue swirls into the water as he washes the crimson blood from his knuckles.
The loud crack which breaks through the air as his fist hits the green eyed monster's jaw still echoes in his head. The sight of the blood which seeps down from the cracks on his lips, the eyelid which stays shut after he throws a punch onto it and the pair of lips which finally tremble in fear instead of its mischievous smirk are all that his eyes can see.
A gasp catches his ear and he turns his head towards the sound of the voice.
Her wide grey-blue eyes flicker when they meet and she takes a small step back.
"It's... It's none of your concern." He whispers, slamming the tap of the water shut and storming off.
She can't see him like this. Not when he can't control his rage. Not when the monster in him is still controlling his mind.
Tobias shakes his head. "You are worried if I lose my job?"
The lady frowns. "Yes...?"
"Why?"
She bites her lower lip. "Well, it will be sad if you lose your job, right? I mean, losing your job is... like, it's hard to get a job and you'll need money-"
"I think my father has enough money to support me—working with the government earns you quite the fortune."
"But still... you will need a job, you can't live without working and like... you know? You can't just expect for him to support you all the time and like... you graduated from Princeton! You definitely should be doing something with that degree..."
Tobias smirks. "You're worried about it because if I lose my job, you won't be able to meet me again?"
She glares at him with a scowl. "No!"
Tobias chuckles and shakes his head, lying back to rest his head on the grass.
So she isn't angry at me.
And she cares about me.
And she doesn't want to get rid of me anytime soon.
"What are you doing?"
The professor peeks an eye open to look at her. He stretches his limbs and pulls in a long intake of breath.
"Cloud watching." He replies lazily.
"With your eyes closed?"
The professor drapes his right arm over his eyes. "Yup. You should try it to."
Rolling her eyes, Beatrice shrugs her shoulders and lies down beside him.
The cold late Autumn wind blows lightly above them, once slapping a bunch of dried leaves onto the professor's face to which he sputters and huffs through his nose in an attempt of brushing them off- to Beatrice's great amusement.
"You know what annoys me the most about Fernando?" Beatrice asks with her eyes still closed. "It's that he seems to see me like a helpless little girl. Well everyone really always look at me like a damsel in distress or an old lady. I mean, do I look that bad? I may be a blonde and I may be short, but hey, I can pack a punch and I do work out. It's not like... everyone needs to be my knight in shining armour!"
Professor Eaton lifts his arms from his eye to glance at her. "Do I treat you that way?"
Scoffing, she crosses her arms across her chest. "You have been doing a lot of savings for me last year."
"Well... you were helpless then. And don't try to deny it. But I'm pretty confident that you don't need much of my savings now."
Frowning, Beatrice turns to look at him. "What do you mean?"
"I can see it in your eyes, T... Prior."
Beatrice's frown deepens.
"In fact, if you remember well, I have been telling you ever since last year that you have a dauntless heart. It was you who didn't believe it."
"But if what you say is true, then why did you still insist on helping me out with all the littlest of things then? Like carrying me up the staircase when I didn't even break my leg."
Tobias heaves a sigh and lifts his head up, perching the side of his face on his fist and placing is elbow on the ground. "There is a big difference between what you can and are able to do, and what you can but are unable to. There is a fine line between bravery and idiocy. Deep in your eyes, I have always seen a fire burning bright in them. You had and have the spirit and lots of courage, but right then, you were not as strong as you are now."
She looks up at him with raised eyebrows. "So you mean to say that I wasn't able to because I was weak, but not any longer?'
Tobias smirks and lays his head back down. "I mean to say that you have always looked down on yourself and it doesn't matter whatever others say or think. You should know that you're good, you should know that you're better than what they think- damn what they all say."
Beatrice bites her lower lip and looks down, breaking her eye contact with the professor.
"Miss Prior..." Professor Eaton breathes with a sigh. "Do you really think that all this while, my first instinct was to protect you. Because you're small, and a blonde, and a girl?"
He leans his face close to hers and wraps his fingers around her chin.
"My first instinct is to push you until you break, just to see how hard I have to press."
Her eyes snap up to meet his.
His eyes darken and his pupils dilate slightly.
Her eyes twitch and itch to look away. She resists herself from the temptation.
"The first time I met you, I was able to resist it. To hold back the impulse from controlling my actions. The second time I met you, not quite."
"Why..." Beatrice swallows hard. "Why is that your first instinct?"
"There's a fire burning deep inside your eyes and I just love seeing it, watching it burn everything it comes across. But last time, it was hidden so deep behind the shadows of what you fear are expected of you and all of those past memories which were haunting you then. When I met you again, the fire was bare, naked to plain sight. And the harder I pushed you, the brighter it burned. Somehow, I find myself enjoying watching the fire erupting wildly. And when it finally died and you were starting to give up... I felt victorious. I felt powerful. I felt so powerful for being able to tame such a wild fire."
Her head starts to feel heavy and her heart pounds wildly. She winces slightly when her chest constricts in pain as she tries to breathe in. Professor Eaton releases her chin but doesn't pull away, his hand travels up towards her right cheekbone, grazing it lightly as he brushes a stray strand of blonde hair and hooks it behind her ear.
"Then why are you not pushing me any longer?" She whispers. "Why are you suddenly being so... nice to me?"
His eyes flicker to hers. "Because someone told me that I am incapable of being evil. I wanted to push you so hard until you break and lose hope, to twist that knife in your heart so cruelly until you are begging for me to just kill you. But when I reached the tip of your breaking point, at that very moment where just a flick of my fingers would send you right off the edge, I couldn't carry on. I just couldn't bare to see you suffer that much..."
He finally pulls away lying back down onto the ground, but her heart is still pounding in her head. "But sometimes, I still feel like I just want to see it once more." Professor Eaton adds as an afterthought, opening his eyes to watch the clouds above them glide away. "To see your fire blazing for me, burning down right on me... I kind of find it very... hot."
Beatrice blushes at the last few words, pushing herself up and brushing some dirt off her coat. "You know..." She starts, looking down at the olive skinned professor as he tucks his palms under his head. "I think I prefer star gazing to cloud watching... The nights are much... calmer."
Tobias smirks at her. "And less hot?"
She rolls her eyes.
Tobias laughs as he stands up beside her, taking her small hand in his and pulling her out of the garden.
CCO
With sweat dampening the skin at the back of his neck and breath shaking in anticipation, Tobias stares at the piece of paper in front of him, fidgeting with it and unintentionally dog-earing its corners.
Love: A Strength or a Weakness?
The title stares at him—taunts him—dares him to read what is written below.
It doesn't even make the slightest bit of sense. Why is he feeling so nervous to read the short piece of article in his hand? He has been dying to read it for weeks and now, now it feels as if he is about to read a life determinant article- like a result from some hospital check up, confirming if he has a life threatening disease and reading the letter will either make everything worse or very much better- nowhere in between.
"You can do this Tobias, it isn't that hard." He tells himself, pulling in a deep breath as he slowly unfolds the paper.
A loud ringing tune screams from Tobias's phone, reminding him that it is already fifteen minutes pre-midnight and there is something which he has to attend to.
Placing the paper in his blue file and setting it aside, Tobias rises from his chair and sets off into a sprint towards his apartment room.
CCO
He waits for the hour hand to strike midnight before he stalks his way towards the door. Leaning his weight onto the heavy door, the tall man finds himself in a dimly lit corridor which leads to a flight of stairs as it is barely illuminated by the street light which peeks through a large glass wall.
He creeps his way up, mentally counting the floors he lands on and stopping when he reaches the sixth landing with a breath of relief. Flexing his fingers which went stiff as he clutched the railings a little bit too tight.
"Room 600... 601... 602... 603..." A big smile spreads on his face as he stops in front of the white door with the numbers "604" pasted on it.
His heart drops when a robust group of chatters break through the silence. He jumps aside from the door and tries his best to appear nonchalant, avoiding their potential gazes and turning his back against the source of the sound until a loud shriek pierces through his ears.
"What are you doing here?" A girl questions.
The man bites the inside of his lower lip, throwing the first answer which pops in his head.
"Cleaning." He says mentally, knocking his head onto the wall immediately after.
"With those flowers?" The girl looks pointedly at the man with an accusing finger directed towards the bouquet of tiny white flowers.
He only shrugs, daring the girl to a silent staring contest until she cowers and sinks into her group of half-drunken friends, one by one disappearing from the dimly lit hallway and into their respective rooms till he is left alone once more.
He breathes out a sigh of relief.
Thank goodness they're not undergrads.
CCO
"Really those girls, they could really keep the noise down, we are simply not interested to join their 'fun'. We're trying to catch some rest here."
Beatrice smirks at Myra's comment as she lies down on her bed, barely interested in going to sleep while her fingers fondle with the blue wool scarf- the scarf which smells vaguely of vanilla and spice though strongly of sandalwood and amber...
Have he read my article?
What does he think of it?
Will he finally understand why I have been pushing him away all the while. And maybe we can work things out from there. Like we can start again, begin again, back from the start where all we did are staring up to the night sky, have a nice time just being with each other, but with a dash of flirtish gestures. Fresh, but with a better understanding of who we are and a clearer view on where we are and where do we want to bring our relationship to.
Myra peeks an eye at her roommate who still has her bedside lamp on. "You're not going to sleep yet?"
Beatrice sighs, lets go of the scarf and rolls towards her bedside lamp to switch it off. Her eyes briefly flickers to the glowing hour hand of her alarm clock. A small smile appears creeps onto her face and she silently whispers a birthday wish to herself before she closes her eyes.
Does he know that it is my birthday today?
Will he wish me many happy returns and maybe kiss me some best wishes for the years ahead if he does?
Will he leave a bouquet of flowers on my doorstep if he does?
Will he bring me to some kind of observatory tower so we can gaze up at the stars and talk about our fears and insecurities?
Beatrice slaps her face onto her pillow, screaming into it as she tries to get the jittery butterflies out.
Calm down, Beatrice...
It's not going to happen anyway.
You can act normally.
He is just your professor.
But that is exactly what she doesn't expects. To wake up early in the morning for a walk, only to find a bouquet of white flowers at her feet.
Her heartbeat hammers in her head as she slowly crouches to the floor, fingers shaking as they reach for the bouquet. The blue crepe paper which wraps the bundle of tiny bell shaped flowers feels so fragile in her fingers that she holds it gently as she picks it up, in fear that she might tear it. A piece of yellowed paper hides amongst the flowers and Beatrice quickly pulls it out.
Many happy returns to my dearest acacia and here's to hoping that you will ace your exams and all things else in life.
Comme un symbol de mon vrai amour et éternelle dévotion... These flowers I gift to you.
She frowns at the odd French sentence—the structure of the sentence is incorrect. This is like... a person who picks up a French-English dictionary and does a word-by-word translation to form a sentence.
"I hope you don't mind me asking... what is the French translation of the words... devotion? And like... true? And also... symbol?"
"Oh and also maybe you can help me with the words 'as', as in the 'as' in the phrase 'as in', and also 'eternal'."
A ring of laughter escapes her lips.
Really Tobias? Do you think that you can form a French sentence like this?
Truly yours,
Your Acacia
P/S: Meet me in the library, after sunset.
After sunset...
Her heart hammers in her chest and she ends up reading the French sentence again and again.
Sincere love and eternal devotion...
Her lips stretch across her cheeks and she pulls her lower lip in, trapping it with her teeth.
"Many happy returns..."
Beatrice jumps and whirls around, unintentionally slapping the ends of her hair on Myra's face as she peers her head over Beatrice's shoulder to take a peek of the bouquet.
"It's your birthday?"
Beatrice chews the insides of her cheeks and holds the flowers behind her back.
"Err... yeah... It is my birthday." She replies, a hand scratching the back of her neck.
"And you got flowers?"
Beatrice slowly pulls the bouquet out, glancing at it briefly. "Yeah..."
"You know who is it from?"
Duh.
Beatrice shakes her head a no, shrugging and brushing the topic away as if it is nothing of importance as she walks back into the room, gingerly placing the flowers on her desk.
Just what are you up to this time, Tobias Eaton?