I do not own anything, just my ideas.

Chapter 51

TOBIAS

I get a phone call late at night.

It's Tori.

I don't bother with a greeting. I say, "What happened?" My voice is sharp. Drained.

Tori doesn't waste her or my time with pointless words. "Tris was shot."

She promised. A part of me screams and another part cripples. Words are stuck in my throat as I prevent my mind from jumping to the wrong conclusions. "Is she okay? Don't tell me if she's not."

I expect the worse, a natural instinct I hate about myself, but it's a defense I've grown familiar to. Anticipation grows with each tiny millisecond as Tori takes a breath and answers.

"She'll be fine. The bullet went through her shoulder. She'll just be sensitive on her collar for a while."

I sigh of relief washes over me. But right where the relief came, questions appear. Who did it? Why did they do it? What was Tris doing when it happened?

"Tori, how—"

"I don't know many details. Tris does not want to talk about it that much. At least with me. She's sleeping through some medicine for the last few hours, but you're the one she wants to talk to."

"Okay, I'll call her."

"Tobias."

"Yes?"

"Be good to her, okay? I know you will be, but I always worry. She's ready to come home and I think she finally really believes this is her home. Here, with you and me and her friends."

"Thank you, Tori. I will; you know that."

I hang up and call Tris. The phone rings several times before it goes to voicemail. It puts me on edge, even though Tori says that she is fine. I still worry. I always worry.

Then my phone rings.

"Tris." There is silence on the other end, and I repeat my greeting again but this time it is more like a question. "Tris? Say something."

"I did it." Her voice is soft. She whispers as if letting the words go will send them floating away so far that they will no longer belong to her. I hear her catch a breath which happens when small tears roll down her cheeks. I can tell they aren't sad like the kinds you shed at funerals or when in pain. These tears are coated in relief and happiness. Somehow, there is more hidden deep behind the I did it.

"I… I know you probably have a lot of questions, and I'll tell you everything…" She tells me her story. Tris explains the situation that happened in the car. I want to yell at her for doing such a dangerous and impulsive thing, but when the tornado hits, I almost lose it. Still, I keep my temper at bay as she tells me about entering the building, encountering Caleb, and going into the room.

"I had the recording device in my bag the whole time, and it picked up everything David said."

"Okay, but none of this is explaining how you got shot." It is the first time I bring it up.

"—Matthew had a gun. When David was close to me, I stabbed him in the leg and tried to run, but Matthew pointed the gun at me."

Even though I feel a stab in the heart, I let her continue on about how she threw the knife at Matthew, sprayed David with the pepper spray, and ran to the nearest person for help. She found herself in the hospital with police officers, one being Marisa, at her side. The details are lost and they don't exactly matter to the whole picture. The people who did those things are facing the consequences. They will serve their time for the terrible deeds they did. And Tris is happy.

A silence takes hold when Tris is done talking. She is trying to find the right way to continue. "I'm coming home to the place where I belong—to the place where your love has always been good enough for me. I'm not running from anything, anymore. I don't belong here. You are my home."

It makes me glow with happiness. One thing I do too often is doubt myself. I seem to never have the confidence or the strength to know when something is good and something worth loving can be loved. And here she is, telling me all that I need to hear and it fills me with strength. She loves me. And she is choosing to come back to me.

"I love you, too."

"I have a surprise to show you when I get back."

"What is it?"

"You'll have to see."

There is something different about her. Like there was a weight hanging over her head and crushing her body that is no longer there. It's a familiar feeling, like what happened with Peter. I sense the same lift in her spirit like the day he was declared guilty.


The day Tris comes back is one filled with anticipation. Tori and I pick her up from the airport, and the two of them go to their place to unpack. I take advantage of my father's busy schedule and plan for a dinner for Tris and I at my place. (Marcus is across the country for some reason that he does not bother to explain to me.) I get Tris yellow roses and plan a meal we can make together. Hamburger meat we will shape into patties sits in the fridge and potatoes lay in a bag waiting to be cut. But just in case we can't manage that, I have a frozen pizza in the freezer.

It does not slip my mind the privacy we will have. I won't deny how much I want Tris. I want to show her love and feel her love. I don't want to push her; I know there is more to a relationship than that. But I don't want there to be anything left in between us. I really feel something special, something real, when I am with her. I love her. If this is what true love feels like, I want to feel it forever. I don't want distance to separate us. I fell in love when we were together, but I have fallen deeper in love the time we were apart.

My grandmother once told me that when I am looking for a partner, I should fall in love with her eyes because eyes are the only things that doesn't age. So if you fall in love with their eyes, you'll be in love forever.

I distinctly remember the first time I saw Tris' eyes. It was in 21U, her first night here in Chicago. They stayed glued to the floor and her sketchbook and every once in a while down on herself. I remember trying not to look, and I would have succeeded if she had not looked up. I would have been able to walk away if it weren't for her haunting, stormy eyes. The eyes that begged for help and longed for a better place. Their blue and gray danced in a swirl that captivated me that day and every day since then.

I am lighting some candles in the dining room and kitchen when there is a knock.

I reach the door and open it. Tris stands before me wearing shorts with a fleece button up and cardigan. (I do notice a small hump on her shoulder.) Her long hair looks so soft I have to stop myself from reaching out and running my fingers through it. And her storm eyes are so stern, so insistent. Beautiful.

"Hey," we both say at the same time. She laughs and it causes her to scrunch her nose. I take one step forward and reach out my hand. When she grasps it, I pull her in and let door swing closed. I take both my hands and grab her face, pulling her into a slow, but desperate kiss.

When we finally release, I whisper, "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too." She pulls away and shrugs off her cardigan. "What are we having?"

"Hamburgers, your favorite. And we are really making them."

I lead her to the kitchen and pull out the small lump of meat. She rolls up her sleeves and begins to work before I can even say anything. That's my girl, always doing something—especially on her own. We shape our burgers and move to the sink to wash our hands. Tris tries to lift the switch with her elbow but manages to get her whole sleeve soaked in water. I laugh as she yells in frustration.

"What the heck?" she yells. When she jumps to get out of the way, her meaty hands rub on her shirt.

"Here," I say to her. I quickly wash off my own hands and walk over to her. "Let me help you."

"I can help myself."

"I know. I can help you. Let me help you."

"Okay," she replies, but nothing else after that.

I stand before her and carefully take the first button at the top of her flannel. I unbutton it and Tris keeps her eyes on me the whole time. The next button comes and the next and soon I pull it off her. I brush my thumb on her should as it comes off, her thick, black tank top resting on her shoulders. A large bandage on her shoulder becomes more evident along with a small one on her chest. Nothing is said between us but everything is spoken between our dead-locked eyes. I feel a fire burn inside me, an intensity I have never felt before.

She looks down first. For how brave she is, I can feel her falter.

"What else do we need to do?"

"You cut up the potatoes for fries, and I'll take care of the burgers."

We do so in a timely fashion, and in minutes our food is cooking. We sit at the bar along the counter with some waters and each other's company. We turn on the TV and watch some random television while everything cooks. When it finishes cooking, we take it and position ourselves on the couch with our food. Our plates sit on the coffee table and she sits on the couch above me on the floor.

We eat and talk with each other, the TV replaced by music. I tell her about our friends' endeavors over the past few weeks and she tells me more about being with her father and brother. And that's when she points to her chest right above her heart. I turn so my whole body is facing her.

"My family, even through pain and heartbreak, have shaped me. They are important to me; I think family is the most important thing we have in our lives no matter if they hurt us."

I bring myself up to the couch next to her. She pulls off the bandage to reveal three birds in flight leading to her heart. A tattoo.

"I think family isn't reserved to just blood. And even though my mom is gone and I no longer feel the same about my brother and father… you never stop loving the people you really care about."

Her eyes flutter to me, scanning my mouth, my nose, and my eyes. "I love you, and… maybe…"

"I'll be your family now," I tell her.

"I love you." She tells me. Her eyes are vulnerable. Honest. "I don't want to leave you."

"I don't want you to leave."

She takes my face in her hands and pulls me forward. Our lips crush together and we do not dare to pull away.

All the lies, all the secrets, all the pain that has ever stood in between us does not matter. We crush the pointless walls that have ever been built. I want to rip every last barrier between us. Something as pointless as words do not exist in a moment as pure as this one.

One hand caresses her face while the other threads through her hair. Her arm wraps around my neck and the other hand slices in my hair. Our kiss deepens and I realize there is no other moment I want more than this one.

I break from her mouth and move to her jaw and down her neck. I kiss the long scar that lays in a line on her chest and will away the pain it has brought her. Then move to the new birds that fly across her collar. She sighs in my ear and I return back to her mouth.

I remember a time long ago my mother warned me never to play with matches, but I can't help myself when it comes to Tris and her flame. It dances in the darkness and I have to remind myself not to get too close because even the most beautiful fire still burns. Love is a slippery slope and it's too easy to fall. Yet, I don't mind the heat or the threat. Everything worth caring for has risks, and I don't regret any of my choices.

I have never wanted this more than in this moment right here.

But I'm afraid that she won't want it.

She grips the bottom of my white V-neck, pulling it closer to the sky. We stand up together, my shirt coming completely off. We stand in the living room, our food growing cold and the music playing unremembered. Our own sympathy inside of us plays a melody no one will ever be able to fathom into notes.

I am scared to ask, but I do it anyway. "Do you want this? Do you want… me?"

She pauses and slows her pace, pulling slightly away. She has thought about it before, and I am afraid she doesn't want me.

"Yes. I want this. I want you."

"Are you sure. I—"

"I'm ready. I'm not afraid—I love you."

I crush her lips with my own and suck the air and fill it all at the same time. Each of our breaths are sharp and desperate, full of want and cracking with need. We travel to my room, our lips not separating.

The back of her knees bump into my bed and a grip her black tank top and pull it over her head in one swift movement. We slow some, indulging in each second as if it could get pulled away from us. I push a strand of hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear.

She looks down briefly, and she blushes.

I know she is insecure and scared. I know through everything she still feels… unsure of herself. And all I can do and all I need to do is reassure the thoughts that go across my mind every time I think of her. She trails delicate fingers across my chest and arm. I feel desire growing, a hungry feeling.

"Beautiful," I say against her soft skin. She is small but strong. "You're the scariest, most amazing person I have ever known and will ever know."

"I love you."

"I know." There are so many words that go unspoken, but not because we don't know how to say them. It is because we don't need to say them. Our unspoken promise is told through each gaze, a catch of breath, a heartbeat skip. Let me love you until you learn to love yourself. And until then, I will love you for the both of us.

Life doesn't give you the people you want, it gives you the people you need—to help you, to hurt you, and to make you the person you were meant to be. I believe that every choice and every moment has been directing me here to this second and the next and the next. I follow a path where the destination is the same, but getting there changes like the direction of wind. I know the pain in the past that both Tris and I know too well cannot compare to what lies ahead.

And maybe we are stupid for thinking like fools when we live in a world that does not promise a happy tomorrow. Hell, we live in a world where tomorrow is not even promised. All you can do is have faith in the things you care about, and maybe you can find your way.

Together, we can make each of our hearts a better place.


Author's Note

Happy Valentine's Day! Enjoy this fluffier chapter for the lovely day. Please review!

Be brave, everyone!


QUOTES:

1). Dreams could come true, but she forgot to mention that nightmares are dreams, too. –Oscar Wilde, person

2). [I] drag myself out of nightmares and find there was no relief in waking. Mockingjay, book

3). We've all done bad things, but that doesn't make us bad people… But we have all done good things, and that does not make us good people. –Anonymous, person

4). It's not that you can't handle this. It is that you shouldn't have to.–Divergent, book

5). You don't know real loss, because it only occurs when you have loved something more than yourself. –Good Will Hunting, film

6). "What if I fall?"/"But my darling, what if you fly?" –Erin Hanson, person

7). I need to know that it is possible that two people can stay happy together forever. –Juno, film

8). When you lose someone, it stays with you. Always reminding you of how easy it is to get hurt. –The Vampire Diaries, TV show

Congratulations to: DoctorFangirlOfIllea and Mari-The-Dreamer

There are 6 (song, person, book, movie, book, song) quotes in this chapter.