Just a real quick note before this chapter: With everything going on right now, I struggled with posting the first section of this story. Even though this is fictional, I just don't want to add anymore violence into the world. There were a few days were I sat down to work on the chapter, and just could not bring myself to type a single word. I started this story to help get through the quarantine, and I'm in total disbelief at the state of the US right now. My only hope is that this the change that's needed, and some good things are coming.
For those wondering, I did go through and pare the first section down to make sure the focus is on Everly and her narrative. There is a really strong moment for her that's incredibly important to her character growth, and therefore I made the decision to leave the scene. It is not overly graphic or gory, and definitely plays into her actions for the rest of the chapter.
If you feel that you don't want to read anything about the factionless war, please skip the entire first section. You can start the section after without reading the first. It will mostly make sense and there's a quick recap there.
Thank you so much to Bamberlee for editing!
Thank you allll for reviewing the last chapter! Please be safe this weekend!
Four stands with them.
His eyes lock on mine, and they are heavy with remorse and disbelief. His mouth turns downward, but he doesn't look away. He stands by Landon, shoulders collapsed and eyes dark, and I know he tried to stop them.
Even worse, I know he's been sent to stop them, and he's failed.
"What are they doing?" Andy takes hold of my arm, and in an act of panic, he tries to pull me away from them.
I can't move.
There is a dizzying amount of factionless, all in varying states of preparedness to fight. Some look strong, some look crazed, but almost all are looking at me.
"Everly! Fuck! Everly get back here! Everyone get back!"
The second voice is Jake, having broken away from Johanna and sprinted toward me. His expression is pure fear; his skin has paled to the color of one of Jason's ghosts and his brow knits inward. He says my name again, causing a few to turn in my direction, and the air grows quiet.
"Stand down, just…go back to where you came from! Come on, guys! This isn't you. You know this won't end well," Jake pleads, and in this moment, the boy from Amity is reborn. He takes hold of my other arm, and Andy lets go, giving him full authority over this matter. "You know Dauntless is watching. You know they'll be here soon. Some of you…some of you guys…we grew up together."
His voice cracks as he scans the factionless, and he's right; mixed in are people we both know, including a few of Landon's friends.
"Don't do this!" Jake insists, and he shakes his head. He's not the cruel killing machine Four promised Eric wanted, but an eighteen-year-old boy about to watch his home be destroyed.
"Landon…come on, call them off. Please."
Jake tries again. He lets go to step forward, summoning courage from deep within, and he pulls himself tall. He takes another step with both hands up, and the sea of factionless parts as Landon walks through them. He mirrors Evelyn in the way her soldiers parted for her; his hair has been cut shorter, his beard is wild, and his smirk is pious.
He fully believes they will win.
"Run back to Dauntless, Jake. This isn't about you."
Landon's words crackle in the air. There is no Evelyn behind him, not that I can see, only the endless rows of men and women who want our faction. The mistakes we've made, or really –the mistakes Johanna has made –are jaw dropping.
We'd fed them.
Clothed them.
Eaten dinner beside them and given them whatever they asked for.
We'd hired them. Gently tried to help any way we could, even going as far as to let some stay on the larger properties, or work in the fields. Married some of them. Done our best to live peacefully, including honoring their existence.
It's like they've forgotten this, in their quest to have it all.
Starting with the Amity faction.
"Dauntless will kill you before you can win. Don't pretend otherwise," Jake warns, but his words mean nothing to Landon.
Landon's slow smirk is eerily calm. "They won't. We aren't here to kill anyone if we can avoid it. We're here to claim what's rightfully ours. Johanna has already pledged to help in our crusade. She's offered her faction without question. When Dauntless does show up," he pauses to sneer at Jake, and then his stare finds me. "they'll find themselves outnumbered with all of your help."
He lets his words sink in, but they don't evoke the reaction he's expecting.
The members of Amity are not as accepting as he was hoping.
"No one here is helping you!" Someone calls out, and the careful façade of peace between us and the factionless cracks beneath the weight of our leader's betrayal. "Johanna has no right to give away anything here."
Landon is undeterred. He shrugs, and gestures for the army to come closer. They have some sort of signal, and I can't swallow when someone nods and hisses to get ready. Jake sees it, too.
"They're almost here, man. Stop this now!" Jake lies, and I know they aren't.
I can feel it.
Even if someone in Dauntless were watching, I don't know if they can hear what is going on. Landon and the army look like members of Amity. They're dressed carefully in our clothes, and there's not a spot of darkness amongst them. A quick glance at the Amity faction would show a large gathering with people talking, or having an intense discussion, and it isn't that uncommon.
Especially with Johanna standing off to the side, looking nauseous at the events unfolding before her.
I can only hope someone from Dauntless zooms in and realizes this isn't a factional meeting.
Unfortunately, Landon scoffs, and I know I don't have long. "It's too late. This starts and ends today."
"Landon, stop this. This isn't you."
I break away from Andy. I silently pray May is somewhere, or she's watching from her porch and has realized what's going on. The more people we have willing to stand up to Landon, the better, but I'm willing to do this alone if it buys us some time.
"You don't have to do this," I insist, trying to stay calm while heading straight for Landon. I figure since I've gotten away from him before, I can do it again. "Do you really think everyone here is going to join your army?"
"Fuck off, Everly," Landon spits, and his posture tenses. He's not immune to my presence, no matter how cavalier he acts. "Do you really think living in fear is right? You really think everything is fine the way it is? If it were, you wouldn't be trying desperately to find a way out of here."
"I'm not. I'm not leaving. My dad isn't even back yet," I answer, and I stumble trying not to slip in the snow.
It's colder than I had anticipated.
The skirt sticks to the fresh snow, like it's trying to prevent me from doing something stupid.
"You hurt him, didn't you? It was you."
I stop in front of Landon, ignoring the wiry hum of the army behind him. They are armed; the sight of the cold metal makes my heart race, and my stomach knots up at the thought of one of them raising a gun to shoot at me. None of them move, not until I stop in front of Landon.
The two closest to him draw closer, silently daring me to attack.
"Why would you hurt my dad? He didn't do anything. Now, he doesn't remember anyone. Not even my mother."
I stare up at Landon and he stares down at me. His stare is as emotionless as he can make it; his eyes are narrowed in disgust, and his mouth curves into a hiss of disapproval. There's not a single part of him I remember, not a trace of the Landon who sat beside Zander and me at a bonfire, helping us roast marshmallows.
"That's unfortunate," Landon answers so flatly that I struggle not to punch him in the face. "He promised me a lot of things you know. Including you. Give her time, give her space. She's just acting out. It'll happen. You can see why my belief in the Amity faction isn't so rock solid these days."
"You're serious?" I brush my hair out of my eyes, and I shake my head. "All this? You joined an army hell bent on destroying the factions because I wouldn't marry you?!"
He laughs.
It's spiteful and mean but reassuring that the fate of Amity had never hinged on a lifelong marriage with him.
"Don't be stupid. Not everything is about you. You think the whole world revolves around what Everly wants. Newsflash, you're not that important."
"I don't think wanting to be happy means the world revolves around me," I retort, and behind me, the crowd of Amity murmurs. They probably can't hear what I'm saying, but they can tell this isn't good. Landon gestures at someone to the side, and I shake my head pleadingly.
"Send your army back to the woods. I'll help you get what you want, but not like this. I agree that things need to change. But don't hurt the people who once cared about you for your own agenda. This has nothing to do with Evelyn."
"You wouldn't know the first thing about my agenda if I explained it to you," Landon goads me, and he only stops when Four moves. His gaze jerks to him, and he sneers. "Get back in line, Tobias. This isn't your moment. You could have had it when Evelyn told you she needed you and you didn't have the balls to follow through with anything."
Four does his best not to flinch. He looks at me, and he tenses his jaw until he can speak slowly. "She's not wrong. You don't want the Amity faction for Evelyn, you want it for yourself. You want to hurt her, and you're using this as your opportunity."
"Fuck off, Eaton! I already told you to get back in line. You don't lead this army. You had your chance. Men, get ready to attack. Those who are unwilling to help are of no use to us. Draw your weapons but use them wisely," Landon calls out, and Four catches my eye.
Unfortunately for him, I am not a trained soldier from Dauntless. I have no clue what he's silently trying to get me to do, or what I even should do. He holds my stare as the sounds from Amity grow louder: the crowd that's gathered begins to shout for the factionless to leave, and someone yells to grab May. Someone else yells to get Harrison. Jake yells for me to come back, but I can't turn around.
I refuse to let Landon think he's won, so I lunge for him with everything I have.
I punch him as hard as I possibly can. His nose immediately starts to bleed, and my fingers immediately start to throb. My mistake the first time I punched him was letting him recover, so this time, I hit him in the stomach, too, then shove him back. He folds over in a howl of pain, and when he forces himself upright, I grab onto him as hard as I can.
The rush is exhilarating, but terrifying.
My hands find his throat just like his found mine, and my fingers press into the sensitive spot above his adam's apple. He stumbles off balance in surprise, falling back into his friends, until he hits the ground, and I go down with him.
I don't let go.
Not even when his fingers claw wildly at me, his swears of my name coming in alternating rasps of pure and utter loathing as we both fight to have the upper hand. Not even when his friends try to pull me off him, or Jake comes running. Not even when I hear the cries from Amity as they yell in my defense, and a farmer I've only seen at dinner tackles the two friends.
The world of Amity explodes in violent delight, swelling up with a wave of defense I've never seen before.
Farmers, kitchen workers, and even Mable attack.
They rush the factionless, currently caught off guard as their leader fights my grasp, and they are quicker than those trained to fight. The factionless stand there motionless as Amity heads toward them to defend their territory, but not for long. The first row attacks. In a fog of rage, I catch Jerry knocking the gun out of someone's hands. I catch May, loudly ordering a section of the factionless back, and they listen. I see Four, angrily calling off the soldiers who look unsure of themselves, and I realize why Evelyn likes Landon so much.
He had been holding them together.
He was what Four could have been.
A few throw him withering stares, daring him to try and lead them now, and one heads right for him. I miss their fight as Landon struggles, and I have the sinking feeling I can't keep him down for long.
"You bitch," Landon gasps, and his nails dig into my skin. He scratches and claws with a feral energy, but it's lost in the noise of everyone around us. I'm vaguely aware of Four yelling as someone else has shown up, and I'm even less aware when I hear a few gunshots go off. "Hank was right to think you wouldn't amount to anything."
His words are meant to hurt, and they do. My brain recognizes them as the painful jab that the man who raised me didn't believe in me very much, but instead of letting go in agony, I tighten my grip. I lose when he gains some momentum, and the back of my head hits the ground hard with a thud. I force my eyes open, and I refuse to give up.
It won't end like this.
I refuse to take my last breath at the hands of a man who thought nothing of me.
"He's wrong," I knee Landon as hard as I can, my actions happening without thought, and I get lucky. My knee connects with the softer part of his stomach, and the wind is knocked out of him. I use this to my advantage, knocking him onto his back while Amity burns around me.
"This is the last time you ever hurt me. Do you understand? Do you?!"
My fingers tighten as his gaze suddenly softens. There's a moment of understanding beneath them, but it's ripped away when I'm yanked back, and Harrison all but tosses me to the side. My knees hit the bank of snow, and there's a gross crack when I hit my side on something. I try to shove myself back up, refusing to let someone free Landon, but the scene before me is not what I'm expecting.
"Jake, get over here. Make sure she stays back."
Harrison works quickly. He stands over Landon, one boot on his chest and he forces him back down. Landon doesn't get the chance to struggle or fight him off, because Harrison's gun is drawn before I can say his name. Jake moves in front of me, his jacket covered in dirt and snow, and his hair a mess.
"Everly, are you okay? Shit! Shit, Eric is going to kill me!" Jake panics when I press my hand to my head to stop the throbbing, but his panic pales in comparison to mine.
A second later, the gunshot is so loud that it echoes through my bones. The gasp of everyone is immediate, and for a few seconds, the faction falls silent.
It stays that way as I scramble to my feet, and when I look back, everyone is staring at me.
"She could have been killed!"
His roar is exactly what one would expect.
I stand beside Harrison trying to wipe wet snow out of my hair, and the damp strands stick to my skin. I struggle to push them away, and my whimper of defeat is not because my hair doesn't look good, but because I'm shaking.
Less than thirty minutes ago, Harrison shot Landon. After months of being taunted and attacked and treated like I was nothing more than something Landon could own, it was over. Harrison stepped up, as either my father or as part of his sworn duty to protect the factions, and single handedly made sure I was safe.
It set off the factionless.
Some were alive; they attacked without any hesitation, even if they didn't have the command to.
Some panicked; there was a wave of gunfire that went nowhere, except for a few lucky ones who'd taken Four's training seriously. They were a few who threw the guns, immediately surrendering because they knew if Harrison was here, the rest of Dauntless wasn't far behind.
Jake's words weren't a complete lie.
They showed up right as I attacked Landon. In my own moment of rage, I'd failed to notice them arrive. Had I turned, even for a second, I would have noticed Jeremy running full force past the Dome, or Tori, sprinting easily through the crowd as she yelled for everyone to get back. I would have noticed Max, shoving some of the elderly members back and away so he could get to Johanna, and the fact that she was most definitely trying to flee.
Later, had I looked around once Harrison was done making sure Landon would never hurt anyone else, I would have seen Eric, arriving like the gates of hell had been unleashed. He had forced his way through the crowd with wild abandon, tearing members aside until he got to Harrison. His stare found me standing with Harrison, my fingers digging into his arm as he asked if I was alright and promising me it would be okay.
It was, for a second.
Four announced Landon was dead, and the rest of the factionless army was gone. Some had been shot, some had fled into the woods, and some had given up without a fight. A few of the Dauntless soldiers had been hit, but they focused on rounding up whoever they could, and there was no doubt they'd have their answer of where Evelyn was.
Now, I stand with the others –Johanna, Jake, Four, looking distinctly unwell, along with Max and Harrison –and Eric is having none of it.
"Not a single one of you thought to have her get out of the way? No one saw them showing up? Not a single person in the control room? Not a single person in Amity? No one managed to tell me Johanna was willing to turn the faction over to the factionless?"
His voice reaches a level I haven't heard before. He's so mad that he's practically daring someone to look directly at him, and no one does. Harrison sticks by me, occasionally pressing on my elbow and muttering that I should have someone make sure I didn't break anything, and Max stays by Johanna. I notice she's afraid to move, and she should be.
I couldn't begin to untangle her logic, nor her ability to believe so whole heartedly in a woman who wanted to destroy the factions.
"I should be asking you these same questions. What the hell were you doing? Why did no one in the control room see this? Where is Kacie?" Harrison barks back, and his hand leaves my arm. "What were you doing that was so important that you missed an entire army showing up?"
Their anger is evenly matched, but for different reasons: Eric's grey eyes flash when he looks at me, and I see everything in him crumble, including the future he'd dare to let himself imagine. Harrison's fury ebbs and flows, as our recent revelation as to how we are related highlights the agony of watching me try to stop an army by myself.
It seems this little fiasco had gone mostly unnoticed by Dauntless, until someone realized what was really going on.
"I was talking to her," Eric looks at me again, and his jaw is tight enough it looks like it could break in half. "I was talking to Everly and I heard her ask if anyone was seeing this and I took off. By the time I got close to Amity, I heard Kacie had called the squads this way."
"That's fine, but they would have killed her had she not attacked Landon. The only reason their ramshackle army didn't kill her immediately was Four here told them not to and some happened to listen." Harrison gestures over to Four, standing silently by Max, and he looks at me. "You all got lucky today. All of you."
"It wasn't the whole army. They held off because some didn't want to attack Amity. They didn't think it was right of Evelyn to ask," Four announces, and it's a mistake.
Eric is immediately in his face, and it takes Harrison pulling him back to stop him from smashing his head into the wall. This struggle is quick, because Harrison has no patience for it. He rips Eric away, but he can't stop Eric from going right back to Four.
"Where is she?!"
"Abnegation," Four spits out, and he shoves Eric back. Their anger with each other is on full display, and Eric wrenches himself away from Harrison, again, to attack. "Fuck, I just told you! She left an hour ago. She told the army to attack then regroup there."
"You're dead."
"Eric, for fuck's sake knock it off," Max swears, and to his credit, Eric does.
He relents, but not before staring Four down. "This isn't over, number boy. Not by a long shot."
"Enough," Max leaves Johanna's side and he steps between Eric and Four. "What happened today cannot happen again," he pauses, and his brown eyes flash at me. "The other factions will get word of this, and it doesn't look great on our end. None of it, including Everly attacking Landon. While we know the reasoning behind the attack, today a member of Amity tried to kill one of the factionless. I think we all know what this means."
Tori looks at me, and her expression is confused, then her lips part in surprise. "You're pinning this on her? We failed to track their army and you're blaming the one person who stood up to them?"
Max shakes his head. "We aren't pinning anything on her, but we have to show that we're taking this seriously."
To the side, Eric tilts his head. I can see his mind whirling, and his lips part when he finds my horrified stare.
"You're saying this is my fault?" I stare back, and the panic is white hot. "He tried to kill me! He tried to kill my entire faction. You can't be serious right now!"
"Everly," Harrison starts, but he's interrupted by Eric.
"You went after Landon first, didn't you?" Eric looks at me like he's never seen me before, and I nod. His eyes are dark, and he takes a slow step toward me.
"I tried to stop him. I told him not to attack. I knew he would, no matter what, but I tried and…" I trail off, and suddenly, everything hurts. My shoulders, my side, my head, the gash on my arm, my wet hair, my stomach, even my leg. I look up at Eric, tall and imposing and looming over me, and I fight the urge to cry. "I wasn't going to let him hurt me. Not again."
"We know you wanted to help," Max continues, and he makes sure Eric is looking at him. "It could be construed that her actions caused the factionless to attack. Had she stood back, they might have called this off."
"Unlikely, but unfortunately, I have no choice in this matter," Eric gestures for Harrison to come stand by him, and in the background, Four sighs.
He stares at me from the side of Eric. Four shakes his head when Eric smiles, then presses on his temple in extreme annoyance as he figures out Eric's plan before I do.
"Everly."
My stomach turns over so violently I think I might throw up on Eric's perfectly laced boots.
"On the grounds of attacking a member of the factionless and impeding an investigation headed by the Dauntless faction, I have no choice but to arrest you," he pauses, and for just a second, he looks absolutely delighted. "I'm gonna need you to come with me."
"Are you okay?"
This time, his hands are freezing.
They skate over my cheeks to cup my face, and I screw my eyes shut as I nod. I'm still struggling not to cry, and I lose the battle when he closes the distance between us. My vision burns with the stress of the past few hours, and then some.
"I'm sorry, I had to say it to make it official. No one thinks this is your fault. As soon as we're in Dauntless, I'll have Arlene check you out and make sure you're alright." His words are low and warm, and they are spoken evenly. "Max doesn't blame you. He's impressed that you even tried to stop them."
My nod is miserable at best, but it's not him.
It's the aftermath of what just happened, and the thought of Landon actually succeeding in taking down Amity.
I had never experienced anything like what happened today. I'd dealt with Landon on my own, but he'd always just been Landon. The man today had an entire army with him, a sprawling mass of members willing to hurt to get what they wanted. In theory, he could have won. Had I not punched him, had I not bought a few precious minutes for Dauntless to show up, Landon could have taken down the Amity faction.
The thought is sobering.
Eric realizes my struggle immediately. When my stare slips away, he crushes me against him the same way he did at the Leadership Dinner. He's solid as I collapse against him, and he lets me stay there, holding me in place.
Since the minute he said the words, it was clear my arrest was less of an arrest and more of a way for him to take me home with him. Everyone knew it. I wasn't handcuffed like Johanna, and I wasn't marched out like Four. I caught a brief glimpse of Jeremy and Tori questioning Jake and Andy, and Jeremy stared as Eric took my hand in his and led me to the truck.
Max saluted a goodbye, walking out with Harrison and Johanna and demanding answers from her, and Eric and I walked out to the trucks.
He didn't have me get inside right away.
He gave me a quick once over, and very softly pointed out I'd done nothing wrong. My lack of answer coaxed his hands to my face, and now, my cheek is pressed against his jacket while he slowly pulls me closer and closer. My breathing comes in gasping, uneven waves and I can't stop it.
My mind repeats everything that just happened on a loop. I see myself as I tried to stop Landon, and the small scale war that resulted when Amity stood up for themselves. Because of my actions, I was appointed as the one responsible, and I'd nearly passed out when Max announced I was to blame.
It couldn't be further from the truth.
Eric's fingers slide into my hair, coaxing me closer while checking for a bump. I wince when he touches a sore spot, and his swear is apologetic.
"I'll tell Arlene you hit your head," he mutters, and I raise my head away from his chest to look up at him. His stare had been smugly pleased while we walked to the truck, but when I stare at him, he realizes I'm not handling this quite as gracefully as he is. "I promise nothing is going to happen. You know you aren't really being arrested, right?"
I can't even answer him.
Everything feels shaky, even the ground beneath my feet.
"My dad…"
"He's fine. He's with Daniel. Harrison brought your mother back today, which is why he was here, and your brothers and sisters are going home. They think your dad will be back by Friday. It's unlikely the factionless will try to attack again." His words are soothingly low, and he moves one hand to brush my hair out of my eyes. "Are you alright?"
"I want to go home," I blurt out, and he frowns when I look away.
I have to.
I'm losing my fight not to cry, and it worsens when Four shows up. He stays off to the side, observing Eric with a less than enthusiastic stare, and we both turn to look at him when he clears his throat.
His tan shirt is streaked with a spray of blood, and I wonder if it's his own. He waits until he knows he can speak, and when he does, it's heavy with remorse.
"Everly, I'm so sorry. I didn't think this would happen. I didn't think…I tried to stop them from going into Amity but they wouldn't listen. Landon kept goading them on, insisting this needed to happen."
"Fuck off, Four. You trained them to attack. What did you think was going to happen?" Eric's words are cold and clipped, but Four deserves them. "Are you happy? Is this what you wanted?"
"No," Four answers sharply. "It's not. I'm going back out to see if I can find anyone else. Jeremy is going with me. Max wants to make sure Everly is alright. They've already let Arlene know you're bringing her back. I just…wanted to tell her I'm sorry. I feel like this is my fault."
Eric doesn't answer.
I don't answer, either.
I find myself leaning forward, and my cheek touches Eric's jacket. It smells like him, and the rough fabric is oddly comforting.
"It is your fault. Get the fuck out of my sight before I kill you right here. No one will care," Eric hisses, and his words are dark.
But they must hold some truth to Four, because he listens.
He nods, taking one more glance in our direction, then he immediately turns to head away from us. I watch him as Eric's fingers move up higher, and he doesn't let go. His touch is soothing, but it doesn't help the cold ache spreading through my bones.
"Come on," he mutters, and I lift my head just a fraction of an inch. "I'll take you home."
I close my eyes so I don't cry, and I wordlessly follow his lead.
"How tall are you?"
Arlene is beyond intense.
She hovers over me, a shock of black scrubs and spiky hair, and her glasses are black, too. The frames make her eyes even larger, and they magnify each blink of her inspection.
"Um, I don't know," I answer honestly, and my throat feels scratchy. "Five something."
"I see." Arlene pauses, her pen poised above an ancient manilla folder, opened to reveal a chart. I had no clue what she was doing. It looked similar to the ones my mother filled out, but it had my name on it already, and a long list of things to check off. "How old are you?"
"She's eighteen. You have all this information. Just check her head so we can get going." From the small visitor's chair he'd managed to cram himself into, Eric glares dismissively. We'd been escorted back here a few minutes ago, and he'd sat down and immediately started working on his phone. He tapped furiously without missing a beat, even as Arlene came in. "She hit her head. Harrison said she hit her side, maybe her knee. Do whatever you need to do because it's getting late."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you two have somewhere to be?" Arlene turns to glare at him, and she puts one hand on her hip. "Is this appointment cutting into your schedule? Shall I hurry up for your sake?"
"Yes. We already missed dinner," Eric answers without looking up, and when he does, his eyes find mine. "I'll have to order something and have Quinten bring it upstairs."
She holds her glare once he returns to his phone, and he ignores her exhale of exasperation. "Wonderful. Is anything bothering you right now? How's your head? Where does it hurt?"
"It's alright. I hit the back of it," I answer honestly, and I have to admit, I'm a little terrified of her.
Or maybe just what was going on.
The whole situation had been a whirlwind.
Once Eric made sure I was in the truck, he slammed the door shut and practically sauntered over to the driver's side. He gave Amity one final scowl of disapproval, and I watched the faction slowly come together to try and recoup. They looked to May as she quickly took inventory of who was injured, and she quickly sent people in all directions. I caught a glimpse of Forrest, his eyes as round as saucers as he sprinted through the crowd to find someone. I saw Wesley and Leif, safe and unharmed, doing their best to help May. I saw others, Jerry and Mable working to help a few members up and encouraging everyone to go home.
I saw my mother, a faint ghost of herself standing on the very edge, gently nodding as someone showed her their bloody arm.
The violence that unfolded was wrong. It cut deeply, my home faction torn apart by a woman who thought she knew better, until I could barely see.
Leaving felt wrong, but ultimately right.
I blinked away a blur of wet grief when Eric started the truck, and he gave me the space I needed. He didn't tell me to come any closer, or demand I sit by him. I was the one who scooted over, sliding against his side and caving in when he threw his arm around the back of the seat. He was safe; amid the chaos and despair and the vile villains who hid in our woods, Eric was the only thing keeping me together.
I sunk into the darkness of his uniform, closed my eyes, and didn't open them until we arrived at Dauntless. He parked unceremoniously in a large docking bay, then instructed me to wait. I sat there until he yelled at someone, reached for me, and roughly pulled me down.
There was a gasp in the distance, echoing as my feet hit the ground. I stood there staring up at Eric, and my mind felt blank. I vaguely realized that I'd failed to process any one of Landon's attempts on my life, and unfortunately, they were all hitting me now. I couldn't move and couldn't speak. I could only stare at Eric and silently hope he understood.
He did.
Eric's hands stayed on my waist, until he let go to grasp my hand. I saw Jason and Rylan were standing a few feet away, unmoving as Eric snapped at them to make sure the squads had Amity as their top priority, followed by a dark demand to make sure Harrison was still with my mother.
From there, my walk through Dauntless was quick, but telling. With each step, the faction revealed a little more of itself, as though Dauntless itself were trying to prove this was where I belonged. It was the opposite of Amity in every way.
Dark, cavernous hallways.
Slick marbled walls.
Dozens of steps and stairs.
Rail-less bridges that offered the chance to tempt fate.
A gushing waterfall, spilling icy waters as we passed by.
Dark ceilings so high I couldn't see them, low ceilings with jagged stalactites.
Sections which had been carved away to reveal an inky darkness, offering a place to hide, or maybe a place to get lost. A floor of neon: lights and signs advertising all kinds of things, and a few offering up warnings. A floor of vast, empty space, with the remaining pale rays filtering in. A hallway that led to music, a dark thumping sound mixed with the laughing and shrieking of whoever was over there.
With each step, Eric's world blossomed before me.
It suited him. It was dark and edgy, anonymous with each nameless member who slunk by and recognizable as a few glanced in our direction. It was large. Vast. Intimidating, especially when we arrived at the large doors with a sign that read Infirmary, and he all but shoved me through them.
Now, he sits here, glaring at Arlene while she marks off a few things on her paperwork.
"Are you dizzy? Nauseous?"
She doesn't look at me while she writes, but she does look up when I shake my head, only to wince at the wave of pain.
"Are you up to date on all your inoculations?"
"What's that?" I stare up at her spiky hair, wondering how she made it look like that. She stares back at me, and I can feel her examining my dress intently. It's not as pretty as it once was. The skirt is dirty with snow and dirt and mud, and the sleeves are pushed up to different lengths. I'm not cold, but sort of out of it, especially when she asks if I received all my shots in Amity. "We don't have those there."
"None?" She tilts her head. "Do you take anything? Vitamins? Supplements? Birth control?"
"No," I try not to look at Eric, because I can feel my cheeks turn red.
My medical history isn't some embarrassing secret, but I suddenly feel exposed, and sort of wild. I wonder if he thought I should have been taking something, or if I'd chosen not to.
"My mom made me tea. She said I should be taking that," I offer, and I hope it's enough to stop Arlene's concerned grimace. "I've had it a few times. It's not…great."
"A tea," Arlene repeats, and she glances back at Eric. "You're taking a tea that's not great and Eric has been going to see you. Wonderful." She pauses, and her next words are stern. "Coulter, out of the room."
"I'll wait," Eric throws back, but he's staring at me intently. His brown bone is more pronounced as he cocks his head, like he's deep in thought, and he juts his chin out. I'm sure he's imagining every single time we've slept together. Which isn't many, but not once had he brought up the fact that I could wind up pregnant.
A baby would be a horrible idea.
Especially right now.
Arlene seems to agree.
"Eric, I'm not asking you. I'm telling you to get out. Now."
He blinks. Eric stands up slowly and throws her an unfriendly smile, and his gaze flicks over me lazily. He watches me while he walks out, and I sort of smile, because it's funny to see him take orders from someone else.
In front of me, Arlene rubs at her forehead in pure exasperation. "Please tell me it's consensual."
"What?" My stare jerks back to her, and I'm horrified. "You think he's…he's…"
"He's very persuasive," Arlene answers, pausing to scrawl a slew of words on my chart. I try to read them, but her handwriting is a mess. "I know Eric better than anyone in this faction. I caught wind of him going to Amity, and I heard a delightful rumor that he liked one of their members in particular. The idea of him is surely promising, but I'd like to make sure you aren't being pressured into sleeping with him. He has a lot of power here. More than he knows what to do with. I know he brought you here, but I want to make sure this is what you want."
She stops, and we lock eyes.
She doesn't look mad or upset, only concerned. It's harsh, but in the moment, I know she means well.
"He never asked you if you were on any form of birth control, did he? I'm assuming he also didn't show up with anything to prevent you from getting pregnant?"
"No, he didn't. I could have told him, but I didn't think about it," I answer defensively, not wanting Eric to take the blame for any of this. I had willingly slept with him, and the outcome would be just as much my responsibility as his. Though I would have to look into something so I didn't end up in Dauntless, alone, with a newborn. "It's consensual. Can I go now? I don't need any shots. I don't want you to inject me with anything. I'll have the tea sent here," I announce, and I move to slide down off the table.
What I'd like to do, is run out of here. I want to find Eric and bolt. I have no idea what he's planned, or where he's taking me, but the assumption is we're going to his apartment and I can at least wash my hair.
"I think my head will be okay. It doesn't even hurt anymore. I'm good. If it does hurt, I can come back."
I try to bargain with Arlene like I would my mother. It's a little weird to have someone else examine me, and I hate that Arlene has her shit together. It's obvious she runs this place, but it's so unlike the clinic in Amity that it feels much sharper.
"You are aware that he wants you to stay with him? You can have whatever you'd like sent from Amity, but ultimately, Eric's goal is for you to live with him." Arlene watches, stopping only to X out an entire section. "This isn't just for the weekend. He's requested all your records be sent here, including your medical history. He never asked for you to be brought up to date on anything but the vaccines we offer here."
"I don't want them. They injected my father with something and look what it did to him. It erased his memory!" I protest, and she shakes her head.
"I heard about that. But this isn't a serum. These are for your safety. Once you get them, you're protected against all kinds of things, including hack serums. I can space them out if you'd like." Her own answer is defensive, years of science behind whatever she's offering. "He wants to make sure you're alright. That's all. I've never once seen him care about anyone, so I'd suggest you at least get the first few."
I stare back at her, and we are both silent.
"I'll have a nurse come in to get you started. If you promise me you're alright, I'll send you home after," Arlene carefully offers, and I give in. "If you find yourself needing anything else, or someone to listen, don't hesitate to come back down here. I would also suggest a low dose of the birth control. I'm sure the idea of a child with him is romantic, but…let's see how this plays out. At least… have the conversation with him. If he'll talk to you about it."
"Okay," I nod, and I have zero intention of letting her stab me with anything. She closes the file, and pleased with my response, informs me she'll be back with someone in a few minutes. The door closes behind her, and I count to thirty.
Then I hop down off the table and slip out of the room as quickly as I can.
I find Eric outside the infirmary.
He's pacing back and forth, snarling at someone on the phone, but he stops when he spies me half sprinting toward him. He hangs up on them without saying goodbye, and he looks at me curiously when I practically crash into him, having underestimated how far away he was and how fast I needed to run to get away from Arlene and her infirmary. I'd caught a few stares while tearing through it, but no one stopped me.
"How did it go?" Eric asks suspiciously, and he grasps onto my arms as I regain my balance.
I curse the long skirt of the dress, and I try to steady myself. I glance back once, pretty sure I'll see an entire staff coming for me, but there's no one except the receptionist, casually chatting on the phone.
"Everly?" Eric presses, and I'm half tempted to say something, like Four was hiding in the corner so I had to leave, just so he won't go back in there and make me get the shots.
"Great," I smile up at him. "It went so great she said I never have to come back."
"Oh, did she?" Eric raises an eyebrow at me, and his tone tells me he thinks otherwise. "Anything else I need to know? Any further instructions or appointments?"
"Nope," I avert my stare, and I focus on the rocks behind him. "Um, she just said I should go and rest. And I'll feel better in the morning. Oh, and to call if I need anything else. Which I won't. Ever."
"I see," Eric smiles brightly, and his fingers tighten on my arm. "Then I guess we should get you upstairs and in bed."
He doesn't let go, nor does he make any move to drag me back to Arlene. His grip slides back so he can pull me closer, and I let him.
For a second.
I'm the one to pull away, because my head does hurt, and I have the undeniable urge to get this dress off me, and shove it somewhere I'll never find it again.
This time, I shower quickly.
I wash my hair as fast as I can, squeezing globs of dramatically dark shampoo into my palm then frantically working it through my hair. I rinse it under burning water, then dump enough conditioner for six of me into my fingers and attempt to detangle the mess the fight had caused.
Outside his bathroom door, I can hear Eric murmuring something. He's talking to someone on the phone. I can't make out what he's saying, but I catch a few words like, impossible, paperwork, and Evelyn. I use Eric's body wash as he moves away so I can't hear him, but that's fine. I drown in the sound of the water, the thick humid air, and the strange sensation of being safe.
Just like the last time I was here, there is a relief at being tucked away from the faction. It's unlikely anyone would find me here, let alone come looking. I think of this as I rinse off, washing my face with whatever he has in here, and watching the stress slip right down the drain.
The panicked feeling from earlier is gradually fading away.
The soreness in my limbs isn't gone, but slowly growing stronger, though I find it tolerable. It's a fresh reminder that I've stood up for myself, and so is the warm ache in my head. I blink both of these complaints away, along with a shock of water, and I slowly reach to turn the shower off.
Eric and I had walked up here quietly.
I had no clue how to get to his apartment, but the floor looked familiar, and so were the apartment numbers. The hallway was silent. Eric led me to the same door I'd walked through in an elegant dress, and while he didn't take my dress off this time, he did tell me he would have some stuff brought up for me.
I assumed he meant dinner, but I hear him greet someone as I step out of the shower. I catch my name, spoken lowly, followed by a muffled shriek.
I almost shriek, too. I make the mistake of catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and the aftermath of my fight with Landon is a little more intense than the last few times. The bruise on my side is large and dark, slowly spreading over my ribs and creeping onto my stomach. There are scratches, raw and irritated by the hot water, and a gash on my leg that I don't remember getting. Nothing that requires urgent medical treatment, but combined with my wet hair and pale appearance, I look worse for the wear.
"Thanks a lot, Landon."
I mutter this loudly, and I grab one of the large black towels on the rack.
I grab another towel to attempt to dry my hair, and I fumble in the cabinet for a brush. I yank it through my hair violently, with more force than I normally would, then I stop, and realize I'm being hard on myself for no reason.
I'd fought off a man who wanted to own me. I'd held my own, the best I could, and the few bruises I had would fade. But the strength I'd found to stand up for myself wouldn't fade, and this is something to be proud of. So, I use Eric's brush to detangle my hair slowly, giving myself the time and distraction I need, and when I'm done, I wander out into his bedroom.
Eric is there.
Patiently waiting on the edge of his bed with his phone next to him.
He eyes me up and down, his stare mixed between concerned and utterly thrilled that I am here, and he forces himself to smile.
"Christina brought you clothes to wear." He pauses when I smile, and he shakes his head. "Unfortunately, she's still here. She and Rylan offered to bring up dinner. She's dying to make sure you're alright. You can willingly refuse at any time." He extends his hand out to me, and his stare lands on my neck. "I can send them away if you want."
"No, they can stay. We can eat with them," I take hold of his hand, warm fingers curling into a cold palm, and I stare back at him. His reluctance for her to stay is amusing, especially since she'd brought me something to wear. "Did you tell her I'm staying here?"
"I told Rylan," Eric answers, and he tugs me closer. "She just happened to be near him when I said it."
His dislike of her isn't totally real, and the look on his face makes me smile even harder.
"You look much happier than you did an hour ago," he observes, and the fragile ground on which he's brought me here feels more solid. "Did Arlene say something to you?"
"Oh, she said a lot," I raise my eyebrow at him, and the sense of normalcy smacks me in the face. I don't know him any more than what I'd learned in our times together, but it feels like I've been here forever. Like this isn't the first time I've stood in this very spot, discussing something that happened in Dauntless, instead of being here as a guest.
For a second, there's a wave of déjà vu, then it's gone when he raises his eyebrows back at me.
"I should tell you…I'm not…I don't have any birth control. I didn't get any of the shots. I panicked because…I thought of my dad. I know Arlene isn't going to erase my mind, but…I just couldn't do it," I explain carefully, and I fully expect him to lose his mind.
He might have secretly wanted a wife, but a family was another story.
"I don't want a baby. I don't want to be stuck here, forcing you to take care of us. Everyone assumes I can't make it on my own, and I'm not about to prove them right. I don't really know what to do, but I left before she came back."
I exhale these words in a rush.
Eric takes this in, and his eyes don't leave mine.
"The orders to have you vaccinated were from me. All soldiers are required to have them. You aren't a soldier here, but it would be safer for you if you did. Though I understand not wanting them after what happened to your father," Eric looks thoughtful, like he's deliberately selecting his words. "As far as you not wanting a child, I suggest you go back to Arlene then and get the shot. If it's not…too late."
I nod, but my whole face feels like it's on fire. I wasn't embarrassed to have sex with him or embarrassed that I'd enjoyed myself and Eric had really enjoyed himself. More so that he doesn't look upset about the prospect at all, and he looks sort of hopeful.
It's an unusual look. He rarely looked like this, but I can feel the pulsing want at a shot of normalcy radiating from him.
"I'm…I'm not saying never," I avert my stare for a second, and I wonder how I went from telling him I accepted a proposal he didn't make, to suggesting at some point in time, we'd have a child together. "I'm just…."
"You should live here for a while. I didn't take you from Amity just to have you trapped in an apartment with an infant. Besides," Eric stops, and his smile changes to a flat-out smirk. "I'm pretty sure Christina can only handle a wedding or a baby. Not both."
She must be listening.
There is a crash from the living room, followed by Rylan yelling and Christina yelling back, and they both swear as the thud is loud.
"You knew she was listening, didn't you?"
"I wouldn't expect anything less," he mutters, and he yanks me closer. His fingers move to my side, and he stills when I wince as he hits a sore spot. "Get dressed. I'll check out whatever hurts later. I thought we could eat dinner and go to bed."
There is nothing in his words except warm, rich approval.
Not so much at me being hurt or me needing him to look at my side, but at me being here, as a part of his life.
"That sounds good to me." I agree immediately, but he doesn't kiss me.
He holds me closer, fingers moving to skim along my spine and pull me against him, and he stays still.
In a turn of events, his head stays below my collarbone, pressed there until something else thuds, and his scowl of fuck is the last thing he says before he lets go and heads out of his bedroom.
"You did it. You crazy son of a bitch, you really did it."
Rylan stares with such an intensity that I'm surprised it doesn't hurt his eyes. "You stole Everly."
"I arrested her," Eric smugly corrects him, and he glances over at me. "She started a fight with the factionless. There was no way I could leave her there to attack someone else."
I laugh as I try to take a bite of the Chinese food Rylan and Christina had ordered for us. Across from me, Christina snickers over her own plate, carefully balanced on her knees and elbows Rylan. They both grin widely, and every so often, she glances around like she's never been in Eric's apartment before. Her eyes narrow at the bookshelf, but it doesn't last long.
Eric doesn't have a dining room table, so we were forced to eat in the living room. He looked incredibly hesitant when he realized this, but there was no better option. He helped Rylan plate the food, then reluctantly led us all to his pristine couch.
"Uh huh. Everly is clearly the threat we were warned about," Christina rolls her eyes, but she's so thrilled I'm here that she hasn't stopped smiling since I walked out. "It's really good to have you here. We've all been waiting for you to show up. We had bets going on when it would happen."
"You did?"
"Are you fucking serious?"
Eric and I answer at the same time. We both freeze, our forks halfway off the plate, and Rylan is so happy he can barely function.
"I guessed another week. Jason gave you two weeks. Tori gave you one day, so she's the real winner but she's not here," Rylan informs us, and he balances his plate on one knee, ignoring Eric's violent glare. "Max gave you till January. But his guess was you'd just steal her in the middle of the night. This is legit legit. There's no going back now."
I turn to look at Eric, and he looks murderous as ever.
"How would I steal her? You really thought I'd just walk into Amity and take her? And not a single person would notice?"
"We just assumed you wouldn't care if anyone noticed," Christina snorts. "You kept going back there. Even the guards expected to see her. One asked Jason if they should make some sort of welcome home banner for the day she did show up."
"I hope you're joking," Eric answers darkly, and he chews his next bite angrily. "The guards have better things to do."
"I don't think there's anything better than Everly finally being in her rightful faction," Rylan disagrees triumphantly, and you'd think I told him I was moving here just to hang out with him. "No more weird clothes. No more…strange houses looking like they're hosting an entire family of demons. No more Eric, sulking all night long because his one true love lives miles away."
Eric shuts his eyes, like he's regretting every life decision he's ever made.
"What if she has to go back?" Christina bursts his bubble with this question, and everyone, including me, turns to look at her. "I just mean…I heard Dauntless will be overseeing Amity for a while. What if they want her back?"
"They can't have her back," Eric answers sharply. "They had their chance. Not a single person gave a shit about her there. She's staying here, with me. If Everly decides she wants to leave, then…that's her choice."
He finishes his rant with a snarl, and he doesn't look at me. He bounces his knee for a second, the plate threatening to spill over, and he eyes his food like he'd stab it if he could.
"Everly, you can't leave! You just got here!" Rylan insists, and he looks panicked. He keeps looking at Christina in horror, and he shakes his head so hard his hair falls out of the bun he's wrapped it up in. "Ever. I already made an announcement flier for the party saying that Mr. and Mrs. Eric Coulter are going to be there. You guys have good seats, too. I'm also, by the way, just in case you two are as careless and carefree as I think you are, an excellent Godfather. For your future child."
"Rylan," Eric sighs, but he's not mad. "Can you-"
"Control himself? No, he cannot," Christina laughs. "But you guys do have good seats. We told Meghan she couldn't get drunk before. She can get drunk at the party, but she can't show up drunk."
"Does she drink a lot?" I take a slow bite of my dinner, and it's surprisingly good. Eric had seemed very hesitant at letting Rylan choose, but I like what he picked out. "Or…what is she drinking?"
"She'll drink anything," Rylan laughs. "She and her friends were at Clyde's the other night. She got wasted the other day off their Death in the Afternoon drink. Jason had to come back and pay because she fell out of the booth. She's fun, but she doesn't know how to control herself very well. She just says whatever she's thinking. Just wait till you meet her."
"Oh, imagine that. Someone just blurting out whatever thought they've come up with." Eric rolls his eyes, and Rylan flashes him a blinding smile.
"Do you like to drink? Does everyone in Amity get wasted? I've spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to get as high as someone in Amity and as drunk. It seems like none of you should be able to walk. I think it seems like a good time."
Next to me, Eric snorts. "You just proved my point."
"Everyone in Amity can walk," I laugh, and I scoot closer to Eric without realizing it. "It's not forbidden to drink there. They drink during the parties or bonfires, or you can drink at home. No one will stop you. We make all the beers, so they have to try them. But the peace serum doesn't make you high unless you take too much. It just makes you…less likely to disagree."
"Did you take it? Is that how Eric won you over?" Christina ignores Rylan's blazing glare, as well as Eric's. "What? I'm trying to figure this out. You said she really likes him. I'm just wondering why."
If looks could kill, Christina would be dead.
But because she's Rylan's girlfriend, Eric must give her a pass.
"Funny. You can go now."
He waves her away dismissively, but she only pays attention to me. She ignores Eric completely, and Rylan rolls his eyes from beside her.
"Rylan wants to try the peace serum. Harrison said he'd bring him some but then he changed his mind."
"He said I didn't need it," Rylan responds glumly, and he sighs into his noodles before perking up. "I'll ask Everly to get me some. You can get it, right? You can walk back in there? Or have it mailed here? Your brother could bring me some."
"I…uh," I pause, and Eric's gaze is so intense I feel it on my skin. "I haven't actually ever taken it. You don't take it during initiation. But as a member, it's encouraged to keep the peace. Some people don't mind it, but some really like it. It's easy to take too much. You have to take the same dose until you build a tolerance. I think my mom just took whatever amount she felt like."
"You really never tried it?" Rylan waits for me to tell him I'm joking, and he scrunches up his face when I shake my head no. "Damn it. But you'll get it for me?"
"Rylan, she's not getting you peace serum. Just…go there and take it," Eric barks, and I try not to laugh. "Or go ask Jake. I heard he's been asked about it. He was telling everyone it makes you tired."
"It does," I confirm, and it's odd to have people listening like I'm sharing some huge secret. "When you first start taking it, or if you take too much, it can make you drowsy. You wind up sleeping it off."
"Nice, nice. Okay. I like naps," Rylan shrugs, and when Eric stares at him with zero enthusiasm, he snickers. "You could use some peace serum. You're all wound up."
"I have a lot of work to do. You know Max is going to want all the paperwork for what happened, as well as what we're doing this week," he answers slowly, pressing his fork down so hard it hits the plate. "I have to figure out the best plan of action before he decides to come up with his own."
"Any word from Four?" Christina asks. "Rylan told me you guys sent him back in. Don't they know he was helping Dauntless?"
"Oh they know. Eric's hoping they'll take care of him."
Rylan isn't entirely wrong, but next to me, Eric is quiet.
He stares at his dinner for a second, and the room falls silent until he speaks.
"He's with Evelyn now."
I brush my teeth beside him.
The surrealism of being here kicks in, and my whole world shifts to reveal a new one. I'd spent years staring at wooden walls in a large bathroom full of my own things. White towels, pink clothes, flowers that my mother had placed to brighten up the space. The tub was large, the space was private, and had I chosen to stay there, I would have drowned beneath the aesthetic of a life not mine.
Sure, I liked how it all looked, but this feels good in a new way.
Eric's bathroom is large and spacious. It's very clean and minimal, and surprisingly modern given that we are underground. Everything is white or black, and the tile beneath my feet is so pristine it's like no one has set foot on it. The shower is familiar to me, and so is this sink.
Unfamiliar to me is the new toothbrush Eric handed me.
He smirked when I took it, the pink one looking odd against his black one, but I appreciated that he'd even thought about me staying here.
I rinse my mouth while he holds out his hand, and it takes me a second to realize he wants me to put my toothbrush with his.
The ease of such permanence surprises me.
It wasn't that I thought he'd kick me out or would tell me this had been fun, but it was his space. It was the way he accepted this like it was meant to be. Like it had always been this way. Like I belonged here with him, and he had no doubts about this.
He leaves the bathroom before me, mumbling he has to call Jason quick, and I linger behind.
I stare at his bathroom cabinet for a second longer, my toothbrush in the same cup as his, wondering how it is possible that this already feels like home.
It's him.
It hits me while I climb into a sea of dark sheets and a dark comforter. I fall into the spot where I'd slept the last time I stayed the night, and there's a sense of entitlement that only I can be here. It's ironic, given I have no clue who's been here before me, or if anyone has.
From what I've put together, Eric was as private and selective as he was arrogant. There was no trace of human life in his apartment. If you glanced around quickly, you might assume this was some sort of model for what life could be like here. Though bleakly devoid of anything personal, it was presumably nicer than what other members have.
I realize this when he walks back into the room, reaches for the collar of his shirt, and yanks it over his head.
"Are you cold?"
He watches me watch him, and I'm suddenly far more nervous than the night I sat on his lap and he took my dress off.
Then, he'd been another version of Eric. A sleeker, more collected, and somehow more confident Eric, dressed in formal wear rather than his uniform.
This is the real Eric.
He is quiet, careful with his words and his actions, but very, very capable of getting his way. There's more to him than his dark clothes or the way he's walking toward his own bed like he's not sure this is real. There's some concern in his stare, hidden and buried but there, and there's the tiniest flicker of warmth.
He likes this, I realize, as he pulls his own covers back, and his stare finds my shoulder. The nightgown I have on is not white, but black, and it's even slinkier and softer than what I'd purchased in Amity. In my quick perusal of his bedroom, I discovered he'd made space for me to live here. His intent was for me to not return to Amity, not even if ordered.
He'd told me there were a few things for me to wear in the dresser, and my shoes were in his closet.
He wasn't entirely truthful about this; his dresser did have what I was assuming were clothes for me, but it was far more than I was thinking. Everything was richly dark, and it matched his clothing. There were all sorts of shirts, leggings, skirts, and pajamas. I opened the closet slowly to reveal the jarring sight of clothes meant for me, pressed carefully against his own clothes. Dresses of varying shades of black, a few lighter colors, and a few that are pink. My dress from the dinner, right beside his suit. Shoes that are not the combat boots or anything remotely battle ready, but a pair next to his, half the size.
The dizzying display of want is tangible. I could reach out and touch his desire to have someone in his life, and I did. I touched every dress, wondering if he picked them out or if he'd sent Christina, and I touched his clothes, too. Some of the shirts were softer, but almost everything on his side was stiff and heavy.
I shut the doors to go pick out my pajamas, and I almost couldn't choose which ones I wanted.
As the oldest daughter, a lot of my clothes were new, but a lot were sent over from families who outgrew them or were made by my mother. I didn't mind them, and I still didn't, but there was something nice about these being mine, and only mine.
"I'm freezing. Is your bedroom always this cold?"
My answer makes him smirk. His lips curl up quickly, and before he answers, he's right beside me. He wastes no time pretending he doesn't want me next to him, and he doesn't waver at all in pointing out that I'm more on his side of the bed than my own.
The fact that I even have a side is enough to make me grin.
"Yes. The heat doesn't work," he answers slickly, and his hands reach for me. There's no awkward fumbling on his part: he pulls me against him, arranging us so I can have my head near his chest and he can throw his leg over me. I'm reminded of Zander clinging onto a worn-out stuffed cow he'd had for a long time. He slept with it viciously, tiny fingers clutching onto the oversized animal while he slept, and sometimes, he refused to go to bed unless he had it.
Eric is the same way.
He keeps pulling me closer, working inch by inch until there is no space between us. At first, there's a flash of unease –only from him –when my head does find his chest. It's clear he's never really shared his bed like this, and he makes it even more clear when he relaxes.
It only happens when my hand curls into his chest, and I close my eyes.
"I've never actually turned it on. I can have someone come look at it if you want," he mumbles, and shockingly he's half asleep already.
The exhilaration of the day has caught up with him. I can feel it as I sink against him, and he grows heavier around me. His leg presses me close, his hands are in my hair and on my back, and his breathing is even and steady.
His heartbeat is the same.
It beats on, rhythmic and stable.
"It's okay," I answer, and my own voice is tired.
The events of the day spiral out in a neat recap. My mind wants to visit each one, but I refuse to linger on the more traumatic events. I skip ahead to the parts when Eric and I were together, when I ate dinner with him, Rylan, and Christina. When Rylan hugged me goodbye, hastily whispering he'd see me tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day, but not the next day because he had to work, until Christina informed him he could just say goodbye.
He refused.
"Goodbyes are too permanent."
He huffed this at her, and me, and Eric, then announced he was leaving, and he'd see us all in the morning.
I smile at this, because Eric hadn't looked annoyed or irritated by his enthusiasm, but sort of relieved.
He'd looked the same way while we brushed our teeth, and when he saw I had on the pajamas from his dresser.
Even now, as he curls his hands in tighter, one finding the nape of my neck and the other my lower back, his final sigh is one of great and ultimate content.