Disclaimer: I don't own Divergent
Beatrice Prior, Wednesday, January 31st, Four's apartment, 7:13 pm
Tobias. No, Four's, words ring in my ears.
Get out.
We both sit, neither moving. The tension in the air is thick, suffocating me to the point where I can't breathe. I don't know what's gotten into him, but I don't like it. Four stands, and without saying anything moves to go to the bedrooms.
Salty pearl-shaped tears drip from my eyes. The sobs were stifled at first as I attempted to hide my grief, but as a fresh wave of tears came, all my defences washed away as the noisy sobs echoed through the somewhat empty house.
Four makes a reappearance, his face shows no sign of sympathy, love or anything really. With a single, swift motion, he throws me a packed duffle bag full of my belongings. I stare at it as my chest rises rapidly.
His eyes are emotionless as he taps his foot impatiently. I take this as my cue to leave. My legs are unsteady as I stand. I clutch the strap of the bag like it's a lifeline, keeping me grounded.
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to stop the tears that threaten to escape my eyes. This is the first time I've cried in front of him and the last. I refuse to show any more vulnerability. I've already shown enough.
I robotically move towards the door that Four opens almost immediately. The change of temperature makes me shiver. I don't bother to look at him. I know I'll just be met with Four's cold eyes.
I inhale a breath of air as I force myself to move out the door. IT slams shut behind me and I finally let myself be in pain.
I guess my biggest mistake wasn't falling for him.
It was thinking that he had fallen for me too.
Beatrice Prior, Same day, Outside Christina and Will's apartment, 8:46 pm
After taking several minutes to calm myself, I finally decided to go to the one place I knew I could go to. I stand outside Christina and Will's apartment, I didn't have much choice as to where I could go without having to explain myself, so I decided that Will and Chris' place would be the best option.
I press the doorbell and wait. The duffle bag lays on the floor by my side as I stare down at the floor shamefully. I bite my lip as tears blur my vision for the fifth time today. My shoulders sag as I sniffle.
The door opens and I'm met with Christina's warm smile that then transforms into a shocked or worried expression when she takes in the bag by my feet, my blotchy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.
She calls for Will and he comes immediately. A sob rips through me as Chris comes towards me, embracing my thin figure while supporting my now limp body that depends on her completely and brings me inside.
We take refuge on the sofa. Will brings my bag and takes it, placing it in Christina's room or more the spare room seeing as they both sleep in Will's. Chris' soothing voice urges me to let it out and causes the remainder of the walls I put up to crumble down.
Sob after sob, I clutch onto the arm of the sofa to stop myself from collapsing as my body shakes with such force, I feel Christina tighten her grip on my waist as her other hand rubs circles in my back.
I hear her say something to Will, but my mind can't process her exact words. Dehydration hits me hard as I'm gasping for both water and air. Will presses a water bottle to my hand and I swallow the contents.
I'm a whimpering mess, but the sobs have died down and the pounding in my head has reduced to a dull throb. I meet Christina, and then Will's eyes and I can see worry present, but no pity.
"Do you want to tell us what happened, Honey?" Will inquiries.
The name he uses brings a small smile to my lips, Both Al, Chris and him would call me that because they thought Beatrice was a mouthful and my hair was honey blonde, of course, after Chris started calling me Tris, the guys caught on.
Nodding, I worry my lip as I think of how to word this, Christina's hand encloses one of mine as she gives it a small squeeze, letting me know she's here for me, I give her a small appreciative smile as I start.
"Four told me to leave," I confess, my voice breaking slightly at the end. I take a deep breath, letting Chis and Will soak the new information in, "He was drunk, and I don't know what happened, but he packed a bag for me and told me to leave."
"He can't do that," Christina protests, as she stands up and paces the living room, "He told me he loved you."
My eyes prick with tears, that comment shouldn't have hurt, she isn't wrong. He told her that he loved me, and by telling me to leave, it does indicate that he doesn't love me anymore, I just don't think my heart can handle that.
"Chris, sweetheart, calm down," Will mumbles, standing up and enveloping his girlfriend gently.
My heart aches for what they have; for what I used to have. My heart craves it. But now I don't even know if what we had was real. My heart tells me to ignore it, as the feeling of being held overwhelms me.
Will manages to calm down a fuming Christina and he suggests the two of us pick a movie while he makes some comfort food. We browse Netflix, and Christina suggests we watch a comedy, seeing as I need cheering up.
When Will comes back with some macaroni and cheese, we start the film while eating a late dinner. I have to admit, the film did take my mind off Four and I couldn't help but chuckle at some parts.
The film ends too soon, but none of us are ready to call it a night. Chris scavenges the pantry for snacks and comes back with gummy bears, crisps and chocolate. We all receive a cup of hot chocolate as we sit back down on the sofa.
"So," Christina mumbles. I frown, it's obvious that both Will and Christina are avoiding the elephant in the room; Four throwing me out.
"You know, you guys can ask questions, I trust you," I inform, "Just don't tell anyone else, I don't want my life to be on display, or stress mum out."
After some consideration, I've decided not to tell mum or dad. Stress is bad for mum and it could increase the spread of her cancer, I don't want to put dad in a situation where he needs to keep something, so I won't tell either of them. Caleb, however, I will tell, only because of how close we are, though.
"He's a jerk," Christina explains, "When he comes back I'm definitely going to have a word with him, I would call him, but his drunk arse is probably passed out."
"Chris, language." Will scolds with a playful smirk on his face that matches both mine and Chris' now.
"She's not a kid, Will, she's one badass chick"
Beatrice Prior, Thursday, February 1st, The office, 10:26 am
The office is quiet.
With Four in Mexico, it's just me, and for that, I'm thankful. I don't know if I could look at him without sobbing. I turn my attention back to my laptop. Thankfully there weren't any cases that I needed to respond to so I have some spare time.
My fingers tap rapidly as I send an email to the landlord of my previous apartment. With the money I saved from staying with Four, I have enough to afford a better apartment, but I just can't bring myself to do that.
I lost all my furniture as it sits in Four's storage, and with him not even in the country, I won't get it back any time soon. I asked Chris if I could stay with her and Will tonight and she assured me I could stay for as long as I like.
However, I want to go back to my old apartment as soon as possible. It's not that I think Will and Chris will kick me out, it's just that I miss my own space and being in control of my life. My eyes glace at Four's desk.
He was clearly drunk last night, and that might have influenced his actions, but a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts. One lie is enough to challenge everything. Is what we had, really love?
I'll admit, I never knew what love was, but that was because it was different for everyone. The logical part of me is telling me that Four lost control and was just angry last night, but my heart is messing with my head and telling me otherwise.
The constant battle between my heart and my head drives me crazy. Maybe I shouldn't trust too much, shouldn't love too much, shouldn't hope too much. Because that too much can hurt you too much.
I don't know what I did wrong. I loved him, I still do, no matter how much I don't want to. It feels like I'm bleeding out, and there's nothing I can do to make it any better. My heart aches for his touch.
But he's gone and he doesn't want me back.
Beatrice Prior, Friday, February 2nd, The apartment, 5:56 pm
I make my way up the narrow stairs and walk through the 5th-floor corridor, passing the once white walls that are now tinted yellow with age. The damage is portrayed clearly, with the white-yellow paint peeling off or cracked, revealing the plaster underneath.
Sighing, I press the key into the lock. The apartment is bare, exactly how I left it. The leather brown sofa that used to sit in the living room is no longer there. I place the single duffle bag inside the apartment and shut the door gently.
I make my way through the apartment. It is stripped of everything that made it feel like home, the walls are bare, and the pictures of my parents that use to decorate them are no longer up.
The cool air bites my skin as I make my way to the bedroom. The window opposite the doorway has a small crack in it. Tape is slathered on top of it; a cheap solution to this problem.
Thankfully, my landlord replied immediately, and was happy to rent the apartment back to me for the same price. But the absence of furniture made me turn to Will and Chris who gave me their air mattress.
They were both reluctant to let me go, especially since I had no proper bedding, but I assured them I'd get new furniture.
Eventually.
I shut the bedroom door behind me as I step back into the living room. The crack in the bedroom window will make the night unbearable, and since the living room is empty and the warmest room, it would be practical to sleep there.
I blow up the air mattress and coat it with the blankets Four packed in my duffle bag. Thankfully, there are enough to keep me warm at night. I slip my boots off and sit on the mattress.
The lack of appliances in the kitchen means cooking will be a problem, so I ordered pizza tonight. While eating, I check my phone. There are no missed calls from him. Not that I expected them to be.
He's in Mexico now, there's no way of contacting him, not that I want to contact him, I remind myself. Pocketing my phone, I finish off my slice and leave the half-full box in the kitchen for tomorrow.
I grab the duffle bag and go through it. Majority of the bag is filled with my clothes, although at the bottom there are the pictures of my parents, brother and me and Four that I framed and hung up on his walls.
I grab my towel and a change of clothes and toiletries and enter the bathroom. I step into the shower as a cold spray of water hits my body. I wince at the feeling, remembering that most people shower that this time, meaning the water is likely to be cold.
I rinse off my hair and step out of the shower. Drying myself, I change into the warm silk pyjamas Susan got me for Christmas. My feet curl as they make contact with the ice-cold tiles and I scamper to the living room.
It's only eight thirty-seven, but I decide to get some sleep. It's not like there's much else that I can do. I crawl under the covers of the air mattress and make myself as comfortable as possible.
My eyes observe the details on the ceiling. The small cracks that I never noticed, the spots that I never gave a second thought too and the small holes.
I close my eyes, begging for sleep to take over, but it never happens, and eventually, my mind comes across the topic of him. One I've been trying to avoid. No matter how hard I try, he's always on my mind.
Things weren't meant to turn out this way. But they did. When I thought everything was great, reality decided to slap me in the face. I was living in a dream and dreams don't come true.
I was naive to believe that dreams could come true and the worst thing was I knew that he could break my heart, and I let him. If this is what love is, I don't want it. Seeing how far you can push someone till you get to their breaking point.
Watching someone's hope shatter. That is not love. Love is when you cherish each other. Where you work things out, together. Not when you leave them, and push away your problems for one person to deal with them.
He broke my heart, but I still love him with all the little pieces, and I want to have him for that, but I can't. Because I'm weak. Because my heart won't allow me to. Love is a weapon dressed up in a dream.
I roll onto my side as I stare out into the distance. My eyes are unfocused, but it doesn't make a difference. My body is warm, but not because of the blankets; it's because I refuse to feel anything.
A single tear slips out of my eye as I recite a poem in my head.
She wasn't sad anymore,
She was numb,
And she knew,
Somehow,
Numb was worse.
A/N I hope you guys liked that chapter, and can I just say, thank you so much for all your reviews on the last chapter! There the most reviews I've had for a single chapter so thank you all so much!
Thank you to those of you who liked, followed and, again, those of you who reviewed. I loved reading them all and they mean a lot to me, I really appreciate them and they made my day.
Four has officially left :( The next few chapters will be a struggle for Tris, and I do have another, smaller plot twist coming in the next few chapters.
My updating schedule has changed, so I will be posting every 4 days not counting the days I upload on, so for example, if I were to upload on Monday, I would upload the next chapter on Friday.
With actual school starting up soon and my extra curricular activities, I doubt I'd be able to keep up. I'm sorry
There are many new fanfictions that are up, so check those out and give them some support!
Make sure to wash your hands, be kind and stay home and save lives. Please review and tell me what you thought. Until next time,
-Divergent31