Tris(POV)

Alyx makes his way over to where Four and I sit. I try my best to look unbothered, but I can feel my face fall.

"Could you scooch over a little bit, baby?" Alyx asks as he forcibly pushes in between Four and me. "Thanks, appreciate it." Alyx plasters a fat smile to his face as he plops down. All three of us sit huddled on this two-person couch and Alyx couldn't seem happier about it. "You look very nice, by the way, Tris. Very sexy outfit."

"Please don't use my name and 'sexy' in the same sentence, "I say, not bothering to hide my disgust. "Call me baby again and I'll stab you."

"Hey, take a drink, let yourself loosen up. Besides, you were the one all over me last time."

"For a dare, Alyx. Don't flatter yourself."

He chuckles. "Whatever you say, sweetheart." Alyx then grips my knee with his large hands and slightly pulls it to him. I notice Four sit up suddenly, his eyes focused on Alyx's face and nothing else.

I shove him off of me and get up, opting to sit anywhere else. I decide to grab my drinks and sit on the side table on Four's side of the couch.

"I think I'll go next," Alyx says, a hint of frustration in his tone. "Never have I ever fucked in public,"

Nobody drinks for a moment, but then Lynn very slowly raises her glass to her mouth and downs it before slamming it back on the coffee table. I'm not surprised, but Shauna seems to be.

"When did this happen?! Since when did you start having sex?"

"Shauna! Christ! You sound like a mother."

"You're only 16. You shouldn't be with other guys right now. You need to be focusing on initiation."

Lynn scoffs. "Whoever said it was a guy?"

Called it.

No one speaks. Both Four and I meet each other with the same entertained look. I lean in and whisper as quietly as I can, "I'm surprised more people aren't drinking."

He stifles a laugh. "You and me both."

"Anyways! My turn." Marlene calls out, getting the attention away from the two sisters staring at the other. "Never have I ever slept with a faction leader."

Alyx is the only one to drink. No one asks or looks at all interested but he explains anyways. "I won't name names but let's just say that she's older, tight as hell, and a leader at Candor." We all groan in disgust, overlapping murmurs shaming him. "Aye don't hate the player, hate the game." He shrugs.

Shauna is next. "Never have I ever snuck out."

Four, Zeke, Uriah, and I all take a shot. Christina gives me a look and I wave her off, smiling.

"Ohhh," Lynn mocks, pointing at me, "You're such a trouble maker, Tris. Your Stiff parents must have hated having a Dauntless kid."

Instead of focusing on the burn of the thought of them, I choose to laugh instead. "They most definitely did. I snuck out to see a boy nearly every night." I feel Four tense.

"Do you miss your boyfriend?" Christina asks, offering me a beer. I don't know what compels me to take it, but I do and I take a deep swig, swallowing the nasty liquid the second it hits my tongue to avoid spitting it out.

"Of course I do. I loved him deeply. I've been asking about him since I got here, but no one knows who he is so all I can assume is that he got kicked out."

Marlene speaks up. "Wait, woah, he was also a transfer from Abnegation? That's not something people usually forget."

"I thought that was odd too. When I asked Tori but she freaked out and shut it down quickly," I look over to Four, thinking about the night she called him to come get me, but for some reason, he doesn't look at me. He looks anywhere but me.

Shauna sighs, "That's so sad, Tris. What was his name? Maybe we can help?"

A smile appears on my lips automatically as I whisper, "Tobias."

Without warning, Zeke chokes on his drink and begins coughing hysterically. Four leans over and starts hitting his back in an attempt to calm him but from the look on Zeke's face, it seems to hurt more than help. Once he's able to calm down, he looks between Four and me and finally rasps out, "Sorry, I swallowed wrong."

"Right," I say, eyeing him suspiciously, "Anyways, don't worry if you guys don't know him. I've accepted the fact that if he was looking for me the way I've been looking for him, he would've found me by now. He could've just found someone else." A pang of hurt and guilt hits me as all the girls in the room, and Will, look at me with sympathy. I don't like the idea that he found another girl, someone who he was so taken by that he forgot about me. At the same time, a part of me is guilty that I'm doing the same thing with the man next to me. Four probably trained him and he would no doubt remember another Abnegation transfer. I'll have to remember to ask him about it later when we're alone.

Alyx interjects, "He could've died."

I snap out of my thoughts and glare at him harshly, growling, "He didn't." He and I glare at each other in an almost challenging way, causing the tension in the room to shift.

"Okay, my turn," Zeke says loudly, trying to ease the room. "Never have I ever gotten blackout drunk and woke up in my own vomit." Both Lynn and Uriah shoot him an angry look before taking a shot.

I am next. "Never have I ever…" I drift off, trying to think of something good. I'm honestly terrible at these. "…been laid out by the opposite sex." I remember the fight I had with Peter and reluctantly drink. Christina and Zeke also drink. Poor Zeke is almost out of alcohol and is going to have a terrible headache in the morning.

"This party is dead," Alyx says annoyed. He then gets up and heads to the kitchen, eyeing one of the many snack trays laid out.

"I'm going to be honest with you guys," Christina pipes in, "I sort of like Candor or Dauntless better. This isn't very entertaining."

I begin laughing. "No way! I don't have nearly enough layers."

"That's part of the fun, Trissy!" Uriah says. "Besides, due to your little fight with that guy in the Pit, we didn't get to finish last time."

"In my defense, he was being a perv. And I had Four there to help." I glance over to him and I'm met with him already looking at me. I look away quickly with a flush.

Uriah rises and jogs to his room. Seconds later, he returns with a bundle of clothes that he throws at me. "There you go, Trissy. Now you're good!"

"Oh, God." I laugh.

Reluctantly I take off these terrible shoes, walk into the bathroom and close the door. Uriah only gave me a wife-beater, one pair of shorts, and one pair of sweats. I slip out of my dress and admire the person I see in the mirror. Christina made me wear black, lacy undergarments 'just in case'. Despite the suggestiveness of it all, a burst of confidence eases into me. My body is different than it was a year ago, for obvious and terrible reasons, but I can't deny that I feel attractive. Now that I'm no longer malnourished and grew into it, I don't hate the reflection so much. Maybe he wouldn't either.

Blushing, I force my focus back into getting ready. I pull the shorts and the tank top on first, and then the dress. I step into the sweats, stuff the skirt of my dress inside, and tighten the drawstring. The whole outfit itself honestly doesn't look so bad. The dress is cut low on both the front and back, so the tank top beneath it looks a little odd. Besides that, it's just like a regular outfit. Before I leave, I pull my hair out of its half bun and shake it out, my fingers massaging my scalp. My curls are a little messy and have lost their original bounce, but I still smile at myself. I hope he likes a messy look. I stride back into the room and focus on one person in particular. When Four sees me, he lights up and smiles. It lasts only a moment before he drops it and looks away, but it's enough to give me butterflies.

"Okay, I'm ready."

Alyx is still up so I sit back in my original seat beside Four and lean into him slightly. As much as I hate to admit it, the alcohol did help me loosen up and my light buzz has made me very comfortable. When Alyx comes back, he gives me a look before grabbing a seat from the bar and dragging it to a new spot.

Without wavering, I say "I'll start. Candor or Dauntless, Will?"

Will excites at finally being acknowledged. "Dauntless."

I notice a keg in the kitchen. "Kegstand until you throw up."

Both the Pedrads squeal in excitement and hurry over to the keg. Will reluctantly stands and walks over to them. He takes a deep breath to ready himself and then he jumps up in a handstand. The brothers stand by his legs to steady him and Uriah puts the tap in Will's mouth. The entire room stands and begins counting, chanting loudly. We begin to clap along with our counting, the time getting longer and longer. Will only makes it forty-seven seconds before he begins coughing and spitting out the beer. The brothers let him down and he raises his hands above his head. The room cheers and Christina gives him a quick kiss.

"Nice stand!" Uriah praises Will, patting him on the back. "Zeke only made it twenty-three seconds the first time."

Zeke slaps him upside the head. "Still beat your time of seventeen." Uriah, defeated, drops his head and returns to his spot.

As he sits back down, Will looks at Four. "Candor or Dauntless?"

Four wastes no time, "Dauntless."

"Handcuff yourself to Zeke for the rest of the game." Zeke is out of the room before Will finishes the sentence and I can hear him rummaging through his bedroom.

Before he can come back, however, Four uses both hands and reaches for the collar of his shirt at the nape of his neck. Slowly, the cloth drags upwards, as if teasing me. My mouth opens and I attempt to take a steady breath as my eyes drag over his perfectly sculpted body. I take note of every inch and crevice of his torso and arms, his muscles tightening gloriously with every movement. My breathing hitches when I look at his back, which is also covered in muscles. I reach out to touch him but quickly pull my hand back, remembering my place and where we are. I feel a hand beneath my chin that pushes my jaw up, closing my mouth. Thank you, Chris.

Without looking away from this gorgeous specimen, I lean over to Christina who is seated beside me, and whisper, "Oh my God,"

"I know right," she giggles, "he is hot."

"Scalding,"

Zeke hurries back with handcuffs in hand but glares when he sees the choice Four made and shouts, "What the Hell, Four?!"

A deep laugh releases from Four before he speaks, "I am not doing that again Zeke. I cannot be around you for a long time and not be allowed to leave."

"I said I was sorry for throwing up on your shoes. I won't get so drunk this time." Zeke pleads with him, almost dropping to his knees.

"No." Four laughs again and as he does his stomach tightens and his muscles flex. God save me.

Zeke stomps back to his room. I can hear him throw the handcuffs at the wall full force before he shouts, "FUCK!"

The room rattles with laughter, but I stay silent, too focused on the man beside me. When he finally notices me looking, I whip my gaze away, heat rising to my face and chest.

Four takes his turn, ignoring the tantrum coming from Zeke's room. "Uriah?"

"Oh fuck yeah. Dauntless."

"Hang upside down from your feet until I tell you to stop."

Uriah teases him as he stands and walks over to a pull-up bar hung in the doorway of a closet. "Too easy, Four."

"Okay," Four smiles menacingly, "Do it naked."

His steps falter for a split second. "Boxers,"

"Deal," Four crosses his arms over his chest and leans back, resting against the couch.

Uriah strips down quickly and sets his feet on the bar before slowly lowering himself to hang completely suspended.

From there, he says, "Trissy, Candor or Dauntless."

I hesitate a second before I say anything back, "Candor,"

Again he whispers, "Pansycake." I threaten to throw something at him by grabbing and holding a pillow above my head, but he continues nonetheless. "Who do you want to take home tonight?"

I laugh hard, mostly out of nervousness, and remove the sweats without a second thought. This only leaves me with three more layers; the tank top, the shorts, and the dress. "No," I state it simply and quickly but get my point across all the same. Uriah gives a look towards Four and then back to me and I frown at him in an attempt to shut down whatever he's trying to insinuate before Four can notice. I don't think it works because when I steal a glimpse at him, he's staring at me, his crossed arms and face beaming.

I try to move on to shove down my embarrassment. "Lynn."

"Dauntless. Obviously."

"Challenge somebody in this room to a fight,"

Lynn stands up almost instantly and smiles widely. She points her finger to the boy beside me and says in a deep tone, "You."

Four laughs. "I'm not fighting you, Lynn."

"Scared?"

"For you," his tone turns serious and low, making my stomach flutter.

She matches his intensity and says, "Come on number boy, I'll go easy on you."

He sees and looks at me, "What are the rules of this fight?"

"TO THE DEATH!" Uriah screams, pumping his fists.

"No, first of all," I say, pointing to him. I think for a moment before I respond, "Whoever makes the other fall first wins. No cheap shots." I glance at Lynn. She scoffs in response. I look over to Uriah and say, "Do you or Zeke have boxing gloves?"

"Like you even have to ask," he states proudly, "Look underneath that couch,"

I move the floor and slide a cardboard box out from beneath the sofa. Inside are two pairs of gloves, red and black, and headgear of corresponding color. Four grabs one of his drinks off the table. He quickly swallows down the alcohol before standing and grabbing a pair of gloves from the box. He throws the other pair to Lynn and both begin to pull them on. I grab the black headgear and force it onto Four's head, matching it to his gloves. Shauna grabs the red, foam helmet and does the same to Lynn.

Soon enough, both fighters are ready and the table has been moved out of the way, leaving a large circle for a ring. They stand across from each other, their hands positioned and their stances strong. Looking at Four, it's obvious he's been heavily trained. He looks like a completely different person in his stance.

"One…two…THREE!" Christina shouts, thus starting the fight.

They circle each other only for a second before Lynn lunges at him. He dodges it easy enough and throws a punch that she barely blocks. She tries again, punching him in his ribs, but he uses that to his advantage because Lynn, as smart as she is, left herself open. Four hits her once in the stomach and then again to the head, causing her to stumble.

I look at Christina and whisper, "I like watching him fight,"

She smiles and says, "Especially while he's shirtless."

I nod vigorously and we laugh. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, a see someone tumble to the ground. Lynn lies flat on her back and huffs angrily. Four stands tall, victorious. He offers to help her up she hits his hand away and gets up herself.

"Someday, Four," she says, glaring him down, "I'm gonna win,"

He laughs as he takes off his equipment. "You said that last time you challenged me,"

She throws her gloves and headgear to the ground and sits in her seat.

Four sits back beside me and leans in close to my ear, "Don't tell Lynn, but she almost got me."

I laugh and say "Watch out Four, soon all the initiates will think they can take you."

Four smiles and whispers, "Maybe I should challenge you next."

Irritated, Lynn says, "Marlene."

"Candor."

"Pansycake," Uriah whispers under his breath. His face is deep red and strained, his arms now hanging freely.

"If you had to spend a night with anyone in this room, who would it be?"

She grins. "Uri, for sure."

"Awe. Marlene!" Uriah wakes up a little more now, despite his current predicament.

"Shut up." She yells as she throws a pillow at him forcefully, nearly causing him to fall. A light pink rises to her cheeks. "Tris, Candor or Dauntless?"

"Do you even have to ask? Dauntless."

Not a moment passes before she says, "Take a body shot off Four."

My eyes go wide and my mouth falls once again. "I-I don't know what that is exactly."

"Simple," Zeke shouts, running back into the room now that something interesting has happened. "You lick salt off them, drink tequila off them, and take a lime from their mouth."

"Oh," I say, obvious anxiety taking over my features.

"Tris you really don't have—" Four begins, but I cut him off.

"Bring it on."

"Hell yeah!" Zeke screams before he hurries to get the ingredients. I adjust myself on the couch so that I'm sitting on my knees and facing a shirtless Four.

"If you don't want to you don't have to," Four says.

Oh, I want to. "Don't worry. I don't want to lose another layer this early in the game. Even though I'm a little hot." I chuckle. I don't think it has anything to do with my layering, though.

Zeke runs back from the kitchen with everything in hand. He then begins setting up the shot by pouring salt on Four's bare shoulder and pouring tequila into the little pocket right above his clavicle. For the final step, Zeke shoves a lime slice in Four's mouth and faces it out. Oh my. Goosebumps prickle up my arms as I get into position.

"Ready Trissy?" Zeke asks, way too excited for this. I nod my head and he begins the countdown, "Ready, set, go!"

I lick the salt off his shoulder quickly and head straight for the drink, trying my best not to make a slurping sound. The liquid burns on its way down and I fight the urge to cough. When I reach his face, I hesitate for a split second before taking the lime from his lips and biting down on it, letting the sour juice fill my mouth. I swallow it with a slight gag, but when I'm done I raise my hands in cheer. The room applauds and drinks as well, including Four.

He takes his discarded shirt and wipes his neck off, taking away any remaining salt or alcohol. "How'd that tequila taste."

I scrunch my face up and respond, "Like amplified vinegar."

"Go Trissy!" Uriah shouts weakly, his eyes closed and his face crimson.

I nudge Four and point at Uriah. He sighs and says, "You can stop now, Uriah,"

Uriah immediately falls with a clunk, not bothering to catch himself, and simply lies on the floor. "Thank you," he calls out faintly.

Suddenly, several loud knocks ring out from the door, and before anyone can get up to answer it, a stampede of people covered in colorful neon paint and black clothing file in.

"PARTY TIME!" Zeke shouts with pure excitement. He shoots up from his spot and sprints to turn on the music and shut off the lights. A blue hue fills the room and suddenly everyone is glowing. Loud, thumping music radiates from the floor and people get right into dancing. Everyone but Four and I. We stay seated in our spots, both of us outsiders. It's oddly comfortable but also slightly uncomfortable at the same time.

"You're not gonna dance?" I shout to Four.

He looks at me and mouths the word 'What'.

I say it again, a bit louder than before, "ARE YOU GOING TO DANCE?"

"NO." He yells back.

"HOW COME?"

"I DON'T KNOW THESE PEOPLE," Even with both of us shouting, I can barely hear what he's saying. I watch the people dancing, most of them drunk or high, just feeling the music. It looks almost enjoyable. How they can be so carefree with strangers is beyond me. Who knows what kind of people are in this room

I study Four, who made the terrible decision to put his shirt back on, and he looks like he is hating every second of this party. Though his face is completely stoic, it's sort of fascinating to see how he eyes the room. He scans every person he sees, searching for something. It's not hard to notice that he's always on high alert and that he pays close attention to every little detail. Four must feel me looking at him because he suddenly turns to me. For a second we just stare, taking the other in.

"WHAT?" Four says, straining to be loud enough for me to hear him.

I'm about to respond, but realize it's ultimately pointless. Therefore, I take the initiative and grab his wrist. I pull him up and drag him behind me and push through the hoard of people. As I do, a tall man moves to stand in my way. He's a little older than Four is—late twenties by my guess—and is almost completely covered in tattoos save for his face. His eyes run down my body hungrily and he roughly grabs my forearm, pulling me flat against him. In a flash, Four moves from behind me to in between us, shoving this man off of me hard. Four gets close to his face, warning him. The bald tattooed man eyes him and then me bitterly, but ultimately backs off and walks away. Four reaches behind his back, never taking his eyes off the man. I place my hand in his and he pulls me in front of him in an attempt to get me further away from the threat. He's putting himself between you and a threat. Together, we head straight into what I'm assuming is Uriah's room. Four shuts the door behind us and locks it. The loud pumping music is suddenly much quieter and I can finally hear myself think.

"Thank you," I say as I sit down on Uriah's unmade bed. Clothes pile the floor, nearly covering it completely, and posters of stunts and women are pinned all over his room.

He sits next to me. "Don't mention it."

"How many times are you going to save me?" I say jokingly.

"As many times as you need." He cocks his head to the side as if the answer was obvious.

Not sure of what to say, I let fall back on the bed.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Who knows what kind of stuff lives in this kid's bed."

I laugh. "Well, it's too late now. I'm going to have to burn this dress." He snickers and relents, lying beside me.

Even though the music has quieted significantly, I can still feel the vibrations beneath me. We lay beside each other, resting. I think about today's simulation and how I was forced to watch my mother die for the fifth time. Four says our fears have meanings, but I don't know what that fear could be. My first place spot on the board is reason enough for fear. The way Peter looked at me, the malice in his eyes, it makes me sick just thinking about it.

"Four?"

"Yes, Beatrice?" He says. His voice is soft and sleepy, causing me to crumble inside.

"What am I going to do?"

"About what?"

I sigh deeply. "About everything. My issue, Eric, Peter. You saw the way he looked at me today; he wanted to rip my head off just because I'm first."

"Well, I won't let that happen."

"You can't be with me all the time. What if he hurts me the way he hurt Edward." My stomach twists as I picture the gruesome assault.

He lets out a deep breath. "I really don't know." His voice is completely awake now. "I've been trying to think of something ever since I saw the board today. I can't think if anything that won't raise suspicion."

I think it's the alcohol, but I begin tearing up a little. "He's going to hurt me, Four." I sound is weak and pathetic.

Four sits up quickly and looks me dead in my eyes. "I will do everything in my power to keep that from happening."

I push myself up as well, holding his gaze. "Can I ask you a serious question?" He nods his head, maintaining eye contact. "Why are you so hellbent on protecting me? I'm practically a stranger and we haven't known each other for very long."

He chuckles before saying, "I have this weird instinct to keep you safe. Every bone in my body worries about you when you're not with me."

Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God. I blush vigorously but refuse to let any form of emotion show on my face. "Why?" It's a simple enough question, but he takes a while thinking about it.

Finally, he responds with, "I care about you."

I try not to let myself swoon, so instead, I joke with him, "See, I knew you had feelings inside that tough head."

"Yeah?"

"Of course," I grin widely. "Also, I think I'm a little buzzed."

He bursts out laughing, "Me too, otherwise, I wouldn't have said any of that,"

"No, no," I murmur, "I'm glad you did,"

"Really?" He says as he brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. Goosebumps.

"It's nice to see you open up. It means you're comfortable around me."

"Or I'm drunk."

I playfully smack his arm and stand. When I catch myself in a mirror, I notice I'm still wearing Uriah's clothes. I pull the tank top off from beneath my dress and slide the shorts down, leaving both on one of the many piles of clothes. When I turn back around, I notice Four with his head turned, facing the wall.

I suddenly start laughing before saying, "What are you?"

He meets my eyes and gets up as well. "Respectful."

"I cannot for the life of me figure you out, Four,"

Four takes a step closer to me. "You will. If anyone can figure me out, it's you." I don't miss the fact that he glances at my lips. Is he…flirting?

"Four,"

"Beatrice,"

"Are you flirting with me?" My sudden boldness is almost too much for me to handle and I bail from it, looking away. "Sorry, that was weird—"

He puts his fingers beneath my chin and pulls my face, forcing me to meet his gentle gaze. A random burst of heat hurries up my spine. With his face wonderfully close to mine, he whispers, "Yes I am."

A small gasp escapes me as I find myself staring at his lips. They look so soft and gentle. I imagine them gliding across my neck to my chest and then to my stomach, covering me completely. My body tingles at the very thought of it. I want him. I want to kiss him. I want to let myself go and take the very thing I've wanted since I got here. I grasp his face, which is centimeters from mine, in both hands. For a moment, he closes his eyes and relishes the feeling. When he opens them again, I close the distance and my lips collide with his. Four's arms wrap around me, his hands covering the whole of my back. My bare skin burns beneath his fingertips and for a second I lose my breath. He hugs me closer, my body flush against his. Heat fills my face and body and my breathing quickens as our kiss deepens. Our mouths dance together effortlessly and a deep familiarity rises in my chest. Tobias.

"TRIS? FOUR? YOU GUYS IN THERE?" We quickly jump apart, flushed. Four unlocks the door and opens it, Zeke standing with beers in hand. "Please tell me you guys were making out." Flustered, Four and I give each other a quick look of embarrassment before looking back to Zeke. "Oh Hell yeah. I just made fifty dollars,"

"Zeke, please," Four says as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Don't say anything," I plead, "at least not until after initiation."

Zeke takes a swig of his beer before grinning madly, "Obviously, I'm not stupid. But man both of you just made my night."

"For fifty dollars?"

"Money is power, my friend," Zeke says as he pats Four on the back. "Besides, Uriah is still passed out in the closet so I can't collect."

I look at Zeke worriedly and say, "I don't think that's a good thing."

"Nah, he's fine," Silence fills the room and Zeke stands there, boosting the tension even further. "Alright then, I'll let you guys continue." He smiles cheekily and then closes the door. We stand in awkward silence for a while, neither one of us knowing what to say. When I glance at the clock on Uriah's bedside table, I almost curse.

"Four, it's almost midnight. I should probably leave,"

"Yeah, me too." The awkward silence fills the room once more, leaving us bashful of the other's presence. Another several minutes pass before he says, "Can I walk you there?"

"No, Four, you're already over here. I don't want you to go out of your way." The apartment section of the compound is large and constantly expanding, but his home is undoubtedly closer than the dorms are. "It's a ten-minute walk, I'll be fine."

He looks at me with dead seriousness. "I don't feel comfortable with you walking there by yourself this late. Especially dressed like that," Four gestures to my dress, and as much as I hate to admit it, he does have a point.

"Four, I'll be okay."

"Beatrice,"

"If I need you, I'll be sure to scream," The joke is in ill taste and it does nothing to alleviate his anxiety. "You know I'm joking. I'm a big girl, I can handle myself." After a minute of thinking, he suddenly reaches into his shoe and pulls out a long, silver blade. It's one of the throwing knives from the training room.

Four hands it to me and murmurs quietly, "Just in case. Promise me you'll be careful."

I grab it, my hand over his, and repeat, "I promise. Just in case."

I forgot my shoes. How I could manage that, I have no idea. The concrete is cold and hurts my feet more than the shoes themselves did, but it's oddly calming. The walk to the dorms is slow and busy. Tons of drunk people and party-goers stumble along the hallways in search of something fun to do. What else could I expect from the Dauntless faction on a Friday night? The closer I get to the dorms, the fewer people there are, which puts me at ease.

I tucked the throwing knife in the sleeve of my dress just in case. There's something slightly romantic about the way he's so protective over me. Like with the man in the Pit, or the one at the party, Peter, Eric, everything. He must care deeply if he goes to so much trouble to protect me. I begin thinking about his voice, his touch, it's enough to make my stomach flutter. I kissed him tonight. Four, arguably the hottest man in this entire faction, kissed me? Me?! The Stiff? I feel so giddy I could soar into the sky. I've had feelings for him that only grow by the day, and today he matched them. I can't wait to gush to Christina about it. She will be so excited to see me finally accepting that she was right; Four and I both have feelings for each other. I really must learn how to read people the way she does.

"THERE SHE IS!"

I don't have time to react before a black bag is thrown over my head and I'm picked up by two people, one holding both of my feet and one beneath my arms. I begin kicking and thrashing my arms with all my strength as I scream at the top of my lungs. For a second they falter, stumble, but then their grip only strengthens. I slide the throwing knife out from my sleeve and stab it behind me as hard as I can, sticking it into what I assume is a shoulder.

"OW FUCK," I'm aggressively thrown down on the floor, knocking the wind out of me. "The bitch fucking stabbed me." Peter?

A sharp pain shoots from my side as he kicks me with all his force, forcing me to gasp for air. Instinctively, I try to block it by crossing my arms over my body, but he just kicks and stomps on my hands.

"Hold her hands down!" Peter shouts. I'm roughly pushed to my back, my hands and legs pinned down. I can feel him hovering over me. I try to scream, but it's only cut off by another hit. It doesn't matter how hard I struggle, their grip is stronger than mine. Please. Four please come back. I need you. My sobs mix with shrieks, but it doesn't seem like anyone can hear me. The beating weakens as he tires and I can feel myself drifting into unconsciousness.

Finally, he stops, and I'm too weak to fight. My body just lies limp on the cold concrete floor. The other two people let go of my limbs but try as I might, I can't move. My breaths are ragged and my body aches so aggressively that hot burns of pain expand across my person. Four.

All of the sudden, I'm being hoisted over a shoulder. A deep groan emits from my mouth at the pain shooting up my sides and my face. The bag slips off my head and falls to the floor but I can't open my eyes. I feel paralyzed. All I can focus on is the pain.

Then the sound of falling water.

A new burst of fight fills my veins and I begin thrashing again. "NO! NO PLEASE!" I shout. I manage to push myself off of my capturer and land on the floor with a thud. The second I stand to run, Peter grabs me by my throat and shoves me against the cement wall hard. My head smacks the wall and leaves me seeing black spots in my, air leaves my lungs and I'm stuck gasping with his hand around my neck. Peter keeps me lifted, my feet barely touching the ground. I grab him by his wrist, trying to shove him off of me, but I can't. I'm too weak.

Peter leans in close to my ear, his hot breath causing me to shudder. "Oh, Beatrice," he hisses with hatred, "you got all dressed up for me." The fingers of his other hand trace slowly up my leg and underneath my dress. I begin fighting against him as hard as I can, crying as I do. They go higher and higher, hiking my dress up.

"Please," I choke out.

He licks up my cheek and whispers, "I love it when you beg," Bile rises in my throat. All I can picture is Marcus. Everything he did to me, I can see it so clearly. I've spent weeks trying to shove it down and forget about it, but he's all I can see. This causes me to panic harder, my crying and thrashing intensifying. Please, not again. I'm begging you.

I look anywhere but his face as he touches me and notice something important. Peter has me pinned to the wall, his hand around my throat and his knee right beneath my womanhood. The mistake, however, is that he has left a large amount of space between my knee and his crotch.

I gather as much saliva as I can muster and spit it all in his face. Using his shock, I drive my knee up as hard as I can, causing him to release me. I don't waste a single second before I punch him in the face hard, breaking his nose. Peter falls to his knees and I take off running.

"FOLLOW HER DAMN IT!"

I run as fast as I can, my adrenaline shielding me from my injuries. I run and run, screaming for help as I go. Something abruptly catches my attention and I realize what I've done. The Chasm stands before me, the water spraying me as I stand in shock. I halt for only a second, trying to figure out what to do, and that is time enough for them to catch up to me. Two men seize me by my arms and take me to the ground. I look at both the men holding me down in hopes of finding a weakness. Drew holds down my left and on my right—

"Al?!" A sob falls from my mouth as I finally see who was carrying me. "How could you?!" I struggle against them both as anger overtakes me. "I'll kill you! I swear to God, I'll kill you!"

Peter finally catches up and both men hoist me to my feet to face him. He steps close, throws his arm back, right hooks me. I feel myself go limp again and I'm dropped to the cold floor once more. Everything is a blur; I can't focus my eyes on anything. Their voices mush together into incoherent nothingness and are drowned out by the ringing in my ears. Then I feel myself floating and being lifted in the air. I try to open my eyes, but I'm only met with blinding light.

"HEY,"

I'm dropped, my body clanging against rough metal and my feet dangling above open air. I'm not sure if I'm holding on or if I'm just stuck, but I'm too distracted by the sounds of the aggressive skin-to-skin contact to care. I try to lift my head and look, but it's still too blurry to focus.

Tobias. I can see him now. His wavy hair is tousled and messy as he stands in the meadow. He reaches out to me. He calls my name, "BEATRICE!"

"Tobias," It's barely a whisper but he comes closer nonetheless. His deep blue eyes illuminate me, filling me with joy. "Tobias," I say again, this time smiling. He picks me up and pain runs through me, causing me to grimace.

"Beatrice! Oh my God, Beatrice! Can you hear me?" He calls out to me, his voice strange despite his serenity.

"Tobias," The meadow fades into black, the only thing in existence being his eyes. Intensely blue. My eyes close, losing his eyes, and the darkness consumes me.

Four(POV)

I sit on the edge of the bed, my elbows on my knees, examining my hands. They're bruised, scabbed, and covered in blood that is both mine and theirs.

His voice rings in my ear, as it does every time I fail. He's my anger, my hatred. This is your fault. She almost died because of you. You almost killed him because of your temper. The temper I gave you. I don't regret it. They were going to kill her; I did what I had to do. I should've walked her home. I knew I should've. My instincts are never wrong and the one time I ignore them, the person I care about most almost dies.

She was barely hanging onto the railing when I found her, dipping in and out of consciousness. I look at her now, battered and bruised. My heart shatters at the thought of what they could have done to her.

The second she saw me, she called me Tobias. She just kept repeating it over and over. Did she finally recognize me? Part of me is scared to find out and the other part wants to just blurt it out to her.

"Four," her voice so soft and weak, though I know she's anything but.

"Beatrice," I say, moving to the floor to be right in front of her.

She coughs and then cringes at the inflicting pain. "Don't call me that," her voice sounds like metal scraping together. I chuckle, instinctively pushing some hair behind her ear.

Her eyes still closed, she rests a hand on my wrist and squeezes. I pull it away when she speaks. "Did you kill them?"

"No. They'll live."

"How did you find me?"

I gently rub her arm in an attempt to soothe her. "Something didn't feel right. I was heading to the dorms to make sure you were but then I heard you scream."

"I lost your knife," she whispers, "I'm sorry."

I almost smile. "Did you at least put it to good use?"

She nods and says, "I tried."

"Beatrice, can you tell me anything you remember?" Her eyes finally open and almost immediately she begins to breathe heavily. Tears well in her eyes and her hands begin to shake as she recalls everything that happened. "Okay, hey, shh. It's okay, you're safe. It can wait." She takes a deep breath and cringes again. Then a single tear rolls down her face, nothing more.

She tries to change the subject. "I can't believe Al would do such a thing,"

"He's scared, Beatrice. Fear changes people like him."

She takes a shaky deep breath. "But to try and kill me? To let Peter—" she can't even finish the thought and starts to cry again. If that bastard touched her I swear I will kill him.

I take her hand, trying to calm her. "Let's not focus on that right now. Where does it hurt the most?"

She touches her side gingerly. "My ribs." I grab my strongest painkillers and a glass of water from my nightstand and offer them to her. She takes both without hesitation. "I want to sit up," she whispers once she's swallowed the pills and set the glass back down.

"No. You need to rest—"

"Please," she meets my eyes with blazing force.

I stare at her a moment before I grab her hands and slowly pull her up. She bites her lip in response and lets out a pained groan. I try to release her hands, but she doesn't let go. Instead, she looks at me again and asks, "Where are we?"

"My apartment. Specifically on my bed."

She chuckles softly. "I'm in your lair?"

I smile and say, "Yes you are."

"Your bed is surprisingly comfortable," she says as she releases my hands to feel the mattress.

"Compared to those cots I bet it's like a cloud." I stand up and begin to walk out of the room but she catches me by my fingers.

"Where are you going?" Her eyes are pleading and scared, no longer joking.

I squat back down to eye level with her. "I'm grabbing some water and a cloth to clean you up." Then I bring her hand to my mouth and place a kiss on her knuckles in an attempt to calm her. When I stand again, I lean over and kiss her forehead. "I'm not leaving you."

I turn and walk out of the room, making sure to leave the door open. I don't want to make her feel uncomfortable or unsafe, especially after tonight. I grab a towel and a large bowl from the cabinets in my kitchen and fill the bowl with hot water.

When I walk in, Bea is up and standing, examining my bookshelf. Her dress is torn in various places and is even missing a sleeve. The dress was revealing on its own without the tears in the cloth. Before, the back was cut in a low V shape. Now, it's been stretched out and torn up, hanging loosely on her body. Her entire back is left bare, save for her bra.

I gently set the bowl down on the nightstand and toss the towel on the bed. I move to stand behind her and without really thinking, my fingers begin tracing old scars and new scratches. She tenses only slightly when I touch her and I hear her breath hitch.

"Is this okay?" I whisper softly. She doesn't say anything but instead nods. I press both of my hands firmly against the skin on her shoulders. I move them down slowly, touching every inch of her with care and appreciation. My fingers graze the upraised parts of her back gently, almost loving them. Her skin is hot to the touch and stiffens beneath my fingertips. She leans into my touch as I take another step closer, pressing her back into my chest. She breathes in deep and lets her head fall back against me. I run my hands over her shoulders and down her arms, careful of the bumps and bruises. Slowly and delicately, I move my hands to her hips, letting my arms wrap around her. My hands spread out across her stomach, holding her to me. I lay my cheek against the top of her head and hold her just a little bit tighter. Bea laces our fingers together, squeezing my hand tightly. I love you, Beatrice. I want more than anything to say it. We stand just like this and minutes pass as we simply feel each other. Then, a sudden banging starts on my door and we jump apart, startled. I look down at her and she looks up at me, both of us wanting more.

"If you want to change," I say, trying to focus on anything other than wanting her, "my closet is right there. Take whatever you want. My bathroom is next to it if you need it."

She looks down at her current state of apparel and then smiles back up at me. "Thank you."

I nod and hurry out of the room. The knocking grows more insistent as I get closer to the door. When I open it, Eric stands looking absolutely livid.

"What the fuck did you do?" He heaves.

"Excuse me?"

"Those initiates are in the goddamn infirmary with broken bones and fucked up faces." He pushes past me into my living room. My bedroom door is open and I pray to God she knows better than to stand out in the open.

"Good. Maybe they shouldn't have attempted to murder another initiate," I say, accusation dripping off of every word. "I don't know if you've seen her, but she took quite a beating."

He glares at me and begins pacing around. "I saw the tapes. It doesn't excuse them, but it most definitely doesn't excuse you from almost killing them. The Amity is lucky to be alive."

"I'm not sorry," It comes out harsh and deep. "I wasn't going to let them kill her,"

"You're a fool, Four."

"Eric, it is three in the morning. I need you to leave." I push past him and head for my bedroom, but he stops me by grabbing my arm.

"Where is she, Four?"

"I took her back to the dorms. Whether she's still there I don't know." I don't look at him.

"Why wouldn't you take her to the infirmary?"

I pull my arm from his grasp, "Because they would be there." The lie comes easy enough, but he doesn't buy it

"Don't fucking lie to me, Eaton." He growls in a low tone. "She's here."

"I already told you I don't know where she is."

"Listen, I don't know how long you've been fucking her—"

"Careful," I growl.

He smiles only slightly. "Did I strike a nerve?"

I stare him down, "Get the fuck out of my apartment or I'll make you."

Eric stares me down decisively. Silence fills in around us as we glare at each other, neither one of us wanting to make the first move. Finally, he relents and stomps to my door. Before he's out, Eric turns and says, "This isn't over,"

Eric slams the door hard and I hurry to lock it before he can change his mind. I huff out a sigh of relief and lean my back against the door, my head falling into my hands. He did it. There's no way he didn't start this.

"Four?" I glance up to see Bea poking her head out from the door frame. She steps out fully and my heart pounds at the sight of her standing in one of my shirts. It's big on her and hangs down to down her thighs. Her short curled hair messily frames her now clean face. Despite the scrapes all over her and bruises all over her body and the small traces of blood she missed while washing her face, she looks breathtaking. I realize I must be staring because she shyly tucks her hair behind her ears and looks down at the floor. "Sorry, I know I must look crazy. I was putting on some sweats but then I heard Eric's voice and I couldn't help but listen."

I move to stand in front of her. "I think you look beautiful." Her face reddens but she smiles. Absolutely beautiful.

It's then she finally notices the dried blood on my hands. "Oh my God, Four."

"Shit, sorry," I say, suddenly embarrassed, "I meant to wash them I was jus—"

She cuts me off by pulling me to my couch and forces me to sit. "Wait here," she says before rushing to the bedroom. Bea returns a second later, the bowl and towel in both hands. She sets the bowl down on the coffee table and sits to face me, dipping the towel in the bowl of water. Without another word, she begins cleaning my hands.

"That was meant for you," I say.

She shrugs, "I washed my face and hands in the bathroom. It's my fault your hands are like this anyway."

"What? How is this your fault at all?"

Beatrice looks up at me with a touch of guilt in her eyes. "They wanted me, not you. If I knew how to fight then maybe you wouldn't have gotten hurt," She dips the cloth again and moves to my face, dabbing at my split eyebrow.

"There were three men twice your size. You didn't stand a chance, Beatrice."

She searches my eyes, looking for something. "I don't want you getting hurt because of me," she suddenly looks down at the towel in her hands and murmurs, "I don't like seeing you hurt,"

I cup her face in my hand and force her to look at me. I lean in close and say firmly, "I'd do it again. I'd do it a thousand times."

She sighs, leaning into my touch. "Four," She whispers. Her voice is delicate, soft, wanting.

Instinctively I pull her face to mine and kiss her gently. For a moment she pulls away and hesitates, but presses another kiss to my lips deeper than before. She moves closer to me, resting her hands on my shoulders as my hands fall to her waist. Our lips move together perfectly, conveying the feelings we have for each other that we can't put into words. Bea sits up on her knees and straddles me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders to pull me closer to her. My hands slide underneath the shirt and my hands fan out across her completely naked back, holding her tightly. She took off the bra. Now it's my turn to blush intensely. She tugs on the neck of my shirt, wanting it off. I pull away for a second and rip it from my body, throwing it wherever before I tug her back to me. Her warmth floods my skin and my hands seep into her, needing more. We've wanted this for so long—the stolen glances, the banter, the small secret touches—this was always meant to happen. I stand up, my hands on her thighs holding her. The kiss doesn't falter, if anything it only intensifies. I carry her to my room and lay her gently on the bed, crawling on top of her, my mouth never leaving hers. Her hands caress my back, feeling me with want and hunger. She pulls me into her further, begging for more.

I tear myself away from her and we both stare at each other, breathing heavily. She repositions her hands, both of them touching my face gingerly. I've been missing you, Beatrice. I stay still, hovering over her as she examines me. The only lamp in the room sets to the left of the bed, washing over us in warm light. It illuminates her.

"Beatrice," I whisper, leaning down for more.

"Tobias," she whispers back.

Shock overtakes both of us and she pushes me off of her. "Oh! Oh my God, Four. I'm so sorry! It just slipped out," she rambles, reddening by the second as she sits up and hides her face in her hands. When the initial shock wears off, I begin laughing. "Stop laughing! I'm so embarrassed!" She whines, groaning loudly into her palms. I scoot myself forward to be inches away from her face. I grab her wrists in my hands and gently tug on them, trying to get her to look at me.

When I fail, I lean in close to her ear and breathe the words, "Say it again."

She finally looks at me, confusion overtaking her embarrassment. "What?"

"Say it again," I whisper as I kiss her cheek softly.

Beatrice holds her breath and looks me in my eyes with fiery hope. "Tobias?" It barely leaves her lips, but I hear it all the same. Her eyes fill with tears as she grabs my face once more and holds me tight as if I'm about to disappear.

"Hi, Bea," a large smile crosses my lips as tears fill my eyes as well.

She lets it out, aggressively crying as she hugs me to her as tight as she can. "Tobias!" I pull her into my lap, needing to be as close as I can get.

I wrap my arms around her tightly, breathing her in. I rest my face in the crook of her neck and plant a soft kiss against her skin. "God, how I've missed you."

Authors Note: Ayyyye! Ok so yeah, it's been a long time. Sorry about that! I really didn't mean to abandon this, life just got in the way and I forgot about it. To all my loyal readers, if there's any of you out there, I hope you like this chapter EXTRA long chapter (just over 9000 words), I had an absolute blast writing it! Especially the steamy parts ;)

As always, please leave a comment and tell me what you think! I love hearing constructive criticism and new ideas. I apologize for any spelling/grammatical errors I missed as I wrote this at 4 am. Hope you guys enjoyed it :)

HAPPY WRITING!