Hello everyone! As of today, I am officially off for at least the next week! I figured this would be a great time to do my part and provide some entertainment during this pandemic. I was going to quit after Eva, but I think this could be a fun short story over the next few weeks.

Just a few notes:

1. Eva will be updated sometime this weekend. The story is almost finished, and the chapters will be posted as soon as they are edited.

2. This is an Eric meets Everly in Amity story. It might not be what you imagined, how you imagined, but something I've thought about for a while.

3. In this story, it is unlikely Everly will wear pants. At some point, Eric may throw her some leggings. If you are bothered by what she wears or the idea that she doesn't want to wear pants, please move on to a different story. This also features Eric as himself. Don't trust him or anything he's doing.

5. There is no Four.

6. Just kidding. At some point, my favorite scrappy lil guy will return. Don't trust him, either.

7. Harrison is in this story, as well as the rest of the characters from The Training and The Initiation. I will try to get this updated fairly quickly. The chapters will be short, as not to make Amber edit 100 pages a week.

8. Thanks to Bamberlee for editing!

9. I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy! đź’š

10. All rights to characters and places in the Divergent series belong to Veronica Roth. All original characters and the plot of the story that does not directly mirror events in the Divergent series belong to me. All associated rights reserved, no translations into other languages or re-posting on other websites is permitted without my express written consent.

The world ends on a Tuesday.

I should have known better. The first sign something was wrong were the trucks. I was no stranger to the heavy armored vehicles, but their presence wasn't reassuring. Johanna disliked them in our faction, and not just the trucks. The Dauntless soldiers were never a good sign. While they boasted they were here to keep the faction safe –quite often spitting their own violent and brutal manifesto at us, as though it granted them jurisdiction to be in our faction, they were never here for us.

They were here to see what we were doing.

It was no secret they believed our faction existed to keep theirs alive. Without us, they'd have no food. Sure, someone in a dark uniform might be able to throw together a meal of leftovers or cook a few eggs, but everything they ate came from our fields. Our animals. Our crops and livestock, carefully and lovingly tended to year round. Dauntless always came expecting more, for their faction was dark and deep and never ending, and their soldiers needed to stay strong.

Johanna loathed them too, with as much loathing as someone who didn't believe in loathing could.

Tuesday was different because they weren't just here to pick up extra food or lurk around the barns and bother our horses.

They were looking for someone.

"Everly, did you see them? They were out of their trucks and in the office before Johanna knew they were here."

Courtney whispers the words at me, keeping her voice down while we walk. A few feet ahead of us is Landon and two of his friends. They glance back every so often to make sure we are following them, and I do my best to duck their stares.

Especially his.

It was piercing and hot and aimed at me.

I'd known Landon since I was little. Our lifelong friendship had slowly turned into something else, and I felt like I was being sucked along, whether I wanted it or not. Which I was pretty sure I didn't. Landon had kissed me last week and I had to work hard to stay still. His beard scratched my face and after several painful seconds, I pulled away. I shouldn't have. His father was close friends with my father, and there was a tricky little alliance between them. It was almost expected I'd wind up with Landon, because my father liked him. He was strong. Resilient. A hard worker who adored my dad in a mostly genuine way and respected his work.

A few days ago, on what was one of the few remaining warm sunsets, Landon had taken me down to the lake. I wasn't prepared when it started to turn cool, and I shivered the whole way. He noticed. He offered me his jacket, draped his arm around my shoulders, and tried to suggest I'd be warmer if I took the sundress off and stayed against his chest. He pointed out where we could lie down, and how neat it was that we were the only people out here.

I declined.

It made things awkward, but I had no desire to take things any further with him. Not even if it would solidify my reputation here in Amity as a productive, happy member who had a loving and kind boyfriend.

"Who do you think they're here for?"

I try not to look right at Landon, feeling the unfair flash of hope they were here for him. It would be a relief to discover he was some sort of traitor, whisked away by the men in black never to return. There was a nice rumor that rose up now and then that if they came looking for you, your time was up. No one ever came back from Dauntless, and even so, the thought of him being taken to the deep dark faction made my stomach turn over.

"My mom said it's something about the test," Courtney answers, and she walks a little faster. I try to keep up, but I'm not that enthused to be sprinting toward the Dome. Courtney is just a little taller than me, and her long blonde hair bounces with each step. "Something about people who tested into the wrong faction or…"

She keeps talking, her stride even with Landon now. When she catches up, he turns back to look at me. His eyes are kind when they find mine, and even kinder when I force myself not to scrunch up my face at him before I can help myself. Which I can't. Landon knows I haven't drunk any of the peace serum in months. Choosing Amity might have been expected of me but drinking some slippery syrup that cloaked my emotions into forced happiness wasn't.

Especially during initiation.

I was just supposed to ride this out, proving I could be as kind and wholesome and generous as those doped up on the stuff, until I was official. It wouldn't be too hard. I couldn't imagine being mean on purpose, let alone while everyone was watching.

He understood. I had to give him that. When it came down to it, Landon was one of the few people who rarely drank the peace serum. He liked other things to clear his mind, and he was a firm believer that if you were good, you were good. You didn't need to be altering anything if your intentions were pure.

Which made every single one of his actions make my skin crawl.

"Watch it, Amity."

The words are hissed right as I crash into the black clad Dauntless soldier. For a second, my world is darkness. I collide with his chest, hard and solid beneath the thick uniform jacket, and his hands grasp me by the arm reflexively. It takes everything in me to look up, because he's tall –so much taller than me, and his grip is tight. His fingers curl into my arms to keep me in place, and when I do look up, I'm met with one icy stare.

"You better watch yourself."

I half expect him to let me go, shoving me out of his way, because I'd seen it before. Dauntless didn't care who you were or why you were in their way, only that you were. It wouldn't take much for him to discard me, especially considering my friends were a good distance ahead, having slipped past the soldiers while I was lost in my own thoughts. I'd been too busy trying to think of a way to get away from Landon to notice this one was walking right at me, but there he was.

Currently staring while his fingers skimmed higher.

"Can you not hear me?"

He barks the words at me, and his fingers tighten when I don't answer. I can't. My first impression of him is that he's handsome, and unfortunately so. His personality is as sharp as his jawline, and as cold as the color of his eyes. They are grey, flashing with the utmost of impatience, but the tiniest speck of curiosity.

It was probably the dress.

I'd told my mother it was a little too fairytale-esque for my liking. While I willingly wore everything and anything she made, this one was right out of Zander's bedtimes stories. It had a square neckline that wasn't doing me any favors, long sheer sleeves, and a billowy skirt that was impractical for doing field work.

The soft pink color probably didn't help.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you. I was thinking…" I pause when he smirks, his lips turning up in amusement that I'm even answering him, and I have to admit he could be in one of the stories. Maybe not as the hero, and certainly not as the side kick, but maybe an evil prince or perhaps the villain who finally has his moment.

"About what? What on Earth could be so pressing here in Amity that you walked right into me?"

For some reason, he still doesn't let go. He steps closer, his boots millimeters away from my shoes and his body so close I can feel how warm he is. I idly wonder if he has a fever. The fabric of his jacket is stiff and unyielding, and it must be hot even on a cool day like this. It barely moves, and it's just as restrained as he is.

"Why are you guys here? Are you looking for someone?" I dare to look right at him, and I'm unable to stop myself before I say the words. I shouldn't be asking him such a thing. My father often preached how the best part of Amity was we accepted things as they were. We didn't make waves by thrashing through our flowers and demanding answers, and we certainly didn't question anyone in authority.

If only he could see me now. I'm sure I'd get marked down for this. Dauntless was an unspoken authority, I would be hard pressed to plead my case against them.

"We are." His answer is short; as sharp as the knives I'd used to dice up the fruit for the snacks today, and as lethal as I would imagine he was. "We're looking for a few people actually. Maybe you can help me."

His words are heavy with mockery, but I don't look away.

I was used to it. Sometimes the soldiers were nice. Sometimes they accepted the water or lemonade or tea, and other times they were assholes. You didn't have to pretend otherwise, because most of us had encountered one or two in our time. The line was clearly drawn between those who seemed to appreciate what we had to offer, and those who found us to rank lower than all the factions combined.

"I can help you," I offer right back, and his lips part open in amused delight. "We're supposed to be at dinner but-"

"Everly!"

"Eric!"

Both of our names are called, answering my unconscious wonder of who he was. I faintly recognized him as someone important from his faction; sometimes Dauntless gave the security announcements or virtual meetings. Johanna was always quiet during them. She shushed whoever was talking and made us pay careful attention as they spewed out rule after rule, or security breach after security breach. I found their rate of success alarmingly dismal, but no one else seemed to.

He was a leader there.

Which meant he ranked higher, higher than the other members, and his authority spanned farther than what I could imagine.

"The fuck are you doing! Who is that?"

Eric finally loosens his grip on my arms as someone approaches. He doesn't let go completely, but he does throw his companion a bored sneer.

"I'm trying to figure out how little Amity here walked right into me. What are you doing? I thought you and Jason were with Carlen."

"Carlen? Hank Carlen?" I wonder what they want with my father, but Eric glances down at me with enough malice that I stop talking.

"We did," the man who is not Jason answers. He eyes me up and down, squinting at the dress and my shoes, and he doesn't look impressed. "He's still there. He wanted me to come find you. You know he hates when you make him do actual work."

"I'll be right there." Eric's hands fall away, and their absence is surprising. "You can tell him I got distracted."

"He won't believe me," his friend answers with the same bored air as Eric. He looks nothing like him, and he appears much nicer. His hair is surprisingly long and wound up and tied on the top of his head. His boots are laced sloppily, and the uniform jacket he has on is unbuttoned halfway down. He looks at me, then Eric, then me again, and winks.

Badly.

"I can wait. I'll let you say goodbye to your future wife. I just wanted to tell you Jason is ready when you are. So far, Hank claims to have seen no one. But you know how that goes. The guy mostly just wants to talk about corn."

My stomach tightens at my father's name, but it tightens even more when Eric looks back at me. His stare is just as steely as before, but in a different way. It falls from my face, down to my collarbone, and over to the pink fabric. It lingers on my hair, dark and wavy and a mess from working with Courtney, and he finally looks at my eyes.

For a moment, neither of us look away, until he smirks.

"Now wouldn't that be funny? Enjoy your dinner, Amity."

He snickers as he walks away, but it feels like he's right there. I swear the ghost of his hands is still on me, even when he joins his long-haired friend. The two of them take off, heading right through the grass and toward Johanna's office.

"Everly! Are you okay?"

Courtney's gasp comes from right beside me. Brave now that he's gone, she takes hold of my hand, and she tries to pull me along with her.

"How did you not see him? We watched you crash into him."

Her question is a very good one. I'd been walking along with her until she started hurrying, and in my own daydreaming, I'd walked right into Eric. He hadn't even told me his name, nor had he done anything other than mock me, but I couldn't shake this weird feeling that this wasn't the last time I'd see him.

I don't know where that comes from. It swirls in my head, something dizzy and tempting and all too appealing.

I can't figure out why.

"I guess I wasn't looking. Thanks for waiting for me," I walk along with Courtney, not wanting to make her wait any longer. Or bring up the point that she let me walk into him. She looks relieved I'm fine, and she must feel guilty for leaving me behind, because she sticks by my side as we walk. Up ahead, Landon waits with his friends, watching carefully. "I just wish I knew why they were here."

"Who knows. Maybe they ran out of lettuce." Courtney jokes, and she speeds up our pace. We make it no more than a dozen steps before I turn to look in the direction Eric went, wondering if he'd gone inside yet.

He hasn't.

When I turn far enough, I'm rewarded with the sight of him.

Looking right at me, with his head tilted and a funny look on his face.

"What did they want?"

I sit next to my father at the dinner table, doing my best to keep his attention.

It wasn't easy; everyone was home tonight, and my mother had invited the neighbors over as well. She'd made quite the dinner, but this meant everyone was loud and louder, and Zander was the worst of all. He sat on the other side of my father, joyously eating off his plate and Leif's, and happily throwing his carrots at anyone who said his name.

It was a swinging change from his obsession with eating only noodles, so my mother was happy.

"Who?" My father looks at me, and his expression is hesitant. "What did who want?"

"The men from Dauntless." I answer back as quietly as I can, because he knew what I was talking about and he didn't want my mother to overhear it. She didn't really like anyone from Dauntless. In fact, she seemed to have an outright aversion to their faction. She rarely went to any of their announcements, claiming Zander was napping or she wasn't feeling well. She was quiet about her dislike of them, but she didn't always hide it so well.

The peace serum helped, though I liked her much better when it lessened as the day went on.

"Everly, do you want some chicken? Forrest brought some over. He said he thought you might need a little extra protein since you've been so busy." My mother smiles, gesturing to the grand display before me. She loved when everyone was at her house, and tonight is no different. "You barely took anything."

"Thank you, I'll have some." I take a piece just to pacify her, and she smiles brightly at me.

"That doesn't look like much," Forrest butts into our conversation, ignoring my glare. He and I were the closest in age, then there was a weird gap. He liked to joke that I'd given them such a hard time as a child they'd waited to have any more. For some reason, this usually caused them to fall silent, until my mother would remind Forrest he was the trouble maker, and I had been nothing short of the perfect toddler. "How are you liking the initiation? It's riveting, isn't it? Lots of dirt and digging and hanging out with the babies."

He wiggles an eyebrow at me, neglecting to mention he almost failed his for letting all the pigs out of the barn on the second to last day of his.

"It's what I thought it would be," I answer carefully, swallowing down a forkful of mashed potatoes. "But…didn't you almost get kicked out of yours?"

"Everly!" My father chastises gently, not really mad. "Leave your brother alone. It was an accident. He wrangled up all the pigs. Anyone could have let them out."

"Except for one. The fucker got away and squealed every time I got near him."

"Forrest!" Both my mother and father say his name, and he snickers into his chicken.

"I got him, though. Eventually," Forrest reminisces fondly, despite their annoyance, and my mother shakes her head.

"Watch your language, Forrest. Your brothers and sisters are listening."

"Yeah, fuckers!" Holly repeats, looking far too angelic to be swearing. "What other words do you say when mom isn't around?"

"Balls. Wanker. Moron," Forrest answers innocently, and my father shoots him the dirtiest stare he can muster.

"Forrest, can it. Why don't you tell us how work is instead of torturing your mother?"

"It's fine. The fuck…nice gentlemen from Dauntless came by today and spent a good hour examining the beers. They seemed like uptight asshol…I mean, they seemed stressed. I offered them drinks but they declined."

"Which ones were there?" I ask, pushing the food around on my plate. "Was Eric there?"

I can feel everyone turn to look at me, and I shrug like his name was common knowledge.

"Eric? Do you know Eric? Their leader?" Forrest looks at me suspiciously, and I stall by eating some broccoli.

"Everyone knows him. He does the announcements from time to time. He always looks…angry." I answer defensively, but it works. My father leans back in his chair and gestures for Zander to come sit with him, and my mother offers Paige some more water. "I saw him with a few soldiers earlier. I was just curious."

"I did see Eric. He acted like an arrogant dick."

"FORREST!"

My parents both say his name firmly, and he laughs off their unimpressed stares.

"Sorry. Okay, he acted like an arrogant moron. Is that better? He stalked around and examined everything like we were hiding someone in the vats of beer. He finally left when one of his friends stepped in cow shit."

"Forrest, go eat outside." My father finally has had enough, and he points to the door. "I don't want Zander going around saying cow shit."

"Cow shit," Zander cheerfully repeats, and he waves his carrots at me. "Everly! Take me to the cow shit!"

"I'll pass." I answer quickly, and my father loses control when Leif laughs so hard milk comes out his nose. This makes Holly choke on the green beans, and she gags hard enough that Wesley turns pale, and also gags. Paisley yells at him not to throw up, which makes Holly choke even more, and Wesley gag even harder.

Forrest cracks up at all of this, but he does stand up with his plate.

"I'll be outside. If Wesley is barfing, I'm not staying in here."

"Forrest!"

My mother tries to get everyone to calm down, but it doesn't work. Ever pleased with the chaos, Zander stands up on the chair next to my father and yells cow shit, over and over, until he steps too far on the chair and it tips over.

He takes half the table down with him, and this time, my father is the one who finally swears.

The night air is cold.

I shiver as I shut the door behind me, softly, hoping the sound won't wake anyone up. Everyone had gone to bed around the same time. I was in charge of Zander, and I'd left him sound asleep in my bed. His presence wasn't unusual; he didn't like sleeping alone, and he often woke up a million times if no one was with him. He had made a beeline for me when our dad wearily announced it was bedtime, and I didn't bother trying to get someone else to put him to bed.

Once he was asleep, I slipped out of the bedroom, down the stairs, past Forrest sitting by the fireplace, and I shook my head threateningly so he wouldn't try and follow me.

He understood.

Forrest like his alone time just as much as I did.

"Be careful, Everly. I heard Dauntless is still here. They haven't given up on their hunt."

He warned me of this when he realized I was going outside, and he watched until I was through the front door. I paused a single footstep out, waiting for him to burst through the door and corral me back in, but he stayed put.

Now, the porch creaks beneath my bare feet no matter how carefully I walk. A few more steps reveal the disappointing discovery that I wasn't at all prepared to be heading outside. It was chillier than I imagined, and I wrap my arms around myself to ward off the cold. It doesn't really work, but I keep going, taking the steps two at a time, until my feet hit cold earth.

The freedom is exhilarating.

It wasn't that I didn't like Amity. I liked living here. I loved my family, I'd made a promise to help my parents, and I had pledged my loyalty to the Amity faction. Once my initiation was over, I would choose between shadowing my mother and working in the small infirmary she ran, or helping my father oversee the green houses he'd built.

Sometimes, the thought of those things is heavy enough that it's hard to take a deep breath.

Soul crushing was how Forrest described it.

He worked with our dad during the day, always with a smile. He never once complained, though I knew he'd rather be elsewhere. In his free time, he worked to ready his at home brewery, and sometimes it bled over into his actual work time, making him late to his chosen job.

I never understood how he felt until I chose Amity and I found myself weeks into our initiation. It wasn't anything Earth shattering. I was selected to work with the younger children and some of the transfers found themselves struggling to be patient. They'd looked smug at the thought of watching children during the day, but by noon, most were desperate for something to take the edge off. A few were disheartened to learn there was no peace serum given until you were an official member, a date that felt lifetimes away.

I wasn't bothered by the kids. I'd grown up surrounded by them, so for me, it was easy.

Until it wasn't.

Until the days felt like they were stretching on forever, and my nights were spent dreading waking up in the morning.

"What are you doing?"

This time, the crash is just as jarring. His hands find my waist as I trip over his boots, my bare feet hitting the stiffly laced leather, and he catches me before I face plant into the dirt. I try to steady myself, but it's a tangled mess of me, his fingers curling into my ribcage, and the thin fabric of my nightgown getting caught between my legs. I glance up hesitantly, expecting to see the same flash of annoyance or smug arrogance that I'd fallen right into him again, but his expression is tense. It's wrought with an underlying worry that quickly vanishes, and it's replaced with a hint of something I can't read.

"I was just going for a walk. I couldn't sleep."

He listens.

His head tilts to look down at me, and up close, he is just as intimidating as before. He inspects the thin straps of the nightgown, and I wish I knew what he was thinking. For some reason, though I don't need his approval for anything, I want him to like me. Or maybe just not dislike me. The thought jumps to my mind as he unconsciously draws me closer, and I can't get rid of it.

He doesn't have any reason to like me.

Or even acknowledge my existence past someone who couldn't see him coming.

To him, I was someone who lived in Amity, and had failed to notice his presence twice now.

"Where do you live?"

His voice is low, rich and warm and I wish he'd keep talking. He seems to prefer to keep most of his words to himself, and I wonder if he has friends. Or if he talks to them.

"A few houses down. Everyone was asleep so I thought I'd get some fresh air." I'm so close that were anyone to catch a glimpse of us, they'd think he was from here. Maybe not from his uniform or his haircut, but because it looks like he's about to pick me up and whisk me inside. "Did you find who you were looking for?"

Eric is silent. His eyes stay on me, so intense that I know I should look away, but I don't. I'm sort of brave. I find enough guts to stare back at him, and I force myself not to notice how warm his hands are. They are firmly against my back, pressing to keep me close.

"You could say that," Eric answers, and his words are dry.

They make me smile. I get the impression he's bored with being here, hours after he first arrived, and he actually hasn't found what he came for. Or maybe he really did, and he was still stuck in his least favorite faction until every soldier was back.

"You really should be inside, Amity. It's not safe right now."

"Why? Who are you looking for?" My hands find his jacket, touching the fabric slowly. It's just as thick as I thought it would be, and I try to imagine wearing it. "Did you…"

"That's enough questions for today," Eric lets go of me, and he knocks my hands away. He stares me down, probably ready to shoot me for touching his precious Dauntless uniform, but he doesn't move. He finally exhales sharply, and there's a tiny ringing sound out of nowhere. Because I don't have one, it takes a long time for me to realize it's his phone. He yanks it out of his pocket, glares at the screen, and shoves it back without answering it. "Come on. I'll walk you home."

His words are surprising. I expected him to leave me standing there, or to yell at me to get lost. I could walk myself home, but I fall in step with him. He moves quickly, but his stride is arrogant as he saunters down the pathway, and every so often I can feel him glancing over at me.

"Stay inside. It'll be better tomorrow." He talks to no one in particular, but I nod. "The factions will be searched again in a few days. Listen to your security briefings. And tell your father to quit fucking around."

He says the last part with a violence I'd expect from him. When I look up, his mouth is pressed into a fine line, and his eyes are dark.

I suddenly realize Eric knows who my father is.

And he very clearly knew who I am.

"I'll pass that on," I answer, knowing it sounds as dry as his own tone, and he eyes me once again.

His gaze is heavy, but not unwelcome.

"Are you sure you don't want my help?" I'm oddly disappointed when we reach my parent's house. It looms to the side of us like an imposing monster, dark and dimly lit except for the living room window.

Eric doesn't answer right away. He's looking at the house, his gaze sweeping up to the second floor, like he's memorizing the layout.

He'd be very surprised to find it was much larger than he thought. The floor plan twisted and turned, going from room to room, expanding enough to house all of us and then some.

"I don't think you can help me the way I need." Eric steps closer, and the chill returns to the air when he shoves me forward. The action isn't as rough as it could be, and he grasps my arm before I make it to the second step. "Wait. What's your name, Amity?"

I stare back at him, still nowhere near his actual height, and he's dead serious. He doesn't smile. He waits for me to answer, and every so often, his gaze moves from my eyes, to my mouth, then to my shoulder.

Maybe he missed it earlier when Courtney said it, but I'm oddly curious why he's asking.

"Everly." I step down a single step, back toward him, and I wonder where he lives. I suddenly wonder all sorts of things about him. What his home looks like. What he looks like without his jacket on. Who cuts his hair. Where he ate his breakfast. "What's yours?"

He smirks, his lips turning up at my question, and he knows I've seen him before.

His arrogance would be infuriating, except he steps closer too, so close that all I see is black.

"Eric. One of the leaders of Dauntless."