Some ideas are mine. Everything else belongs to Veronica Roth.

Do I Wanna Know? Arctic Monkeys

We were back in the room as soon as the gunshot went off. There was no more screaming, no more me, no more fears. Only four walls and a roof.

After opening my eyes, I saw Nash to my left, looking down at me. I guess the right thing to do would be to ask if he was ok. His eyes were very dark from the lack of good lighting in the room, and there was a good chance he was still anxious from the simulation.

But before I knew it, his arms were around me, his head buried in my neck. I've never actually hugged a guy before in the way Nash was hugging me. Normally they're platonic, with no romantic intention. But feeling his arms wrapped around me, holding on for dear life, was something I never experienced before.

I felt his breath as he moved his lips to my ear. "Thank you," He murmured low. My breath caught and my insides felt like they were just incinerated. My arms felt useless on the side of my body, so I wrapped them around his hard shoulders. His skin felt hot to the touch, and when I did so, the muscles there tightened and then relaxed.

It gave me a much better idea of what was under his shirt other then my imagination

"No, thank you," I said quietly. "It takes a lot to do that for someone,"

His arms moved down my body to the small of my back and pulled. My skin caught figuratively on fire, making my knees practically collapse. My waist pressed his, back bending backwards from the sudden change of position. He leaned over me and I tightened my grip around his shoulders to stable myself. Even though I was far beyond the point of stabilization.

"I'd do anything for you, Theodora,"

He was so close to me. His lips inches from mine, his eyes never leaving mine. I felt his thumbs draw circles on the exposed skin of my lower back. His eyes never left mine, except for the fraction of a second they darted down to my lips.

We've never been this close before. Never this intimately at least. There was something unbelievably wrong about being this close with Nash. Nash, my trainer. Nash, the boy I've only known for weeks. Nash, who had to kill me two minutes ago. But, I didn't care what was moral or appropriate when I was with him. Because it was all so wrong, it made it feel so fucking good.

And I wanted to kiss him. I wanted every inch of him. Never in my life have I ever been so infatuated with someone. He opened up himself to me, showed me things he's probably never showed anyone before. I needed him. And I had my chance right now to show it.

"Um, I-I- Maybe we should go back," My mouth moved without any help from my brain. I wanted to slap myself for it. Why in god's name would I say something like that? Am I stupid? It was like I didn't know what to say. I've dished out how Nash has talked to me to almost any boy I've been with, and yet once he dishes it back, my body combusts and my legs turn to jello. He made me weak, and not strength wise.

"I think I'm fine right here, and by the feel of it, I think you are too," He murmured, a smirk playing on his lips.

God, he was enjoying this.

And I was too, if I wasn't such a hormonal teenager who was currently thinking about how other things would feel, too. But, here wasn't the right place. Not here, my mind was speaking to me. He was acting out of fear of losing me, I concluded. The reason he wanted to kiss me here, was because he just had the feeling of killing me. He was scared that he was going to lose me, even though I wasn't going anywhere.

"Nash, we should really go-" I couldn't finish my sentence, because his lips were on my neck. Just like that. They were soft, at first, carefully placing obviously coordinated kisses on the left side of my neck, moving down to my collarbone.

My eyes were shut, head bent back, and thoughts jumbled. He certainly knew what he was doing, based on the effect he was having on me. Without thinking, my nails dug into his shoulders. I felt his smile against my neck, and the small sharp nip of his teeth.

Pretty sure I broke his skin with my nails on that one.

God, stop you're encouraging him.

He was trying to convince me to stay. He was using sex against me, and while it was a very genius and satisfying idea, it had to stop. Or I might melt on the spot. And judging by how he saw me in that fear, he saw me weak. And right now, collapsing into him like the desperate girl in the simulation was not going to be how this all went down.

"We need to go," I said, in a surprisingly strong voice. I pushed his shoulders up and his head came up from neck. He didn't look hurt, but he did look surprised. That changed into a smug smile that took over his lips. I had to clench my jaw to keep my expression straight.

"Ok," He said simply, cocking his head slightly to the side. It was odd how calm he was. He rubbed his hand on his neck and used his other to grab mine. I didn't hesitate to interlace our fingers, which he happily agreed to. I snuck a glance up at him as we started walking, and there was that upturned smile I've seen way too often.

We walked in silence, taking the same path down we took up. It must have been pretty late at night because when we reached the Pit, there were barely any people there. It was currently only occupied by a few guys that I've seen plenty of times at Xander's party. I never took the time to remember their names, just because they're all the same person. Self-centered, arrogant, "new night, new girl" maniacs who have probably slept with almost every female in the compound.

And the smell of alcohol hit me once we got within 15 feet of them.

"Just keep walking," Nash muttered in my ear, tension showing in the way his hand tightened around mine. He try to guide us quickly around the center of the Pit where the trouble was located. But for some reason, trouble always seems to find the both of us.

"Nashy boy!"

Nash kept pulling me, ignoring the comments. Their speech was slurred and the way they were walking didn't seem to show any signs of soberness.

"Oh, c'mon man! I know you heard me!" The guy must have realized that I was with Nash because he and his buddies made a collective amount of suggestive noises. "Oh, I get it. Nash got himself a girl. And a pretty little one,"

Nash froze.

And I had the audacity to turn around and look at the asshole.

He wasn't ugly, that's for sure. With short cropped black hair, dark eyes and broad shoulders, there was no wonder girls wanted to sleep with him. He was kinda hot. But, how he looked at me and talked to me made me grip Nash's hand tighter.

"Like what see?" He asked me, walking towards us. His gang followed, passing a bottle between the two of them. But, as he got closer, I noticed the scar along his face. It ran from the top of his temple, down his neck, and past the collar of his shirt. He was probably a fighter, picking up quarrels in the Pit every now and then to get an adrenaline rush.

"Because I certainly like what I'm looking at," He slurred. Before he could even dare to come closer to me, Nash stepped between us. The hand that was holding mine pushed me behind him. If I wasn't fuming, I would have appreciated the protective gesture. But, I didn't want anything between me and my goal of leaving this dick unconscious

"Roy," Nash warned the guy. He stood a few inches over him, but not much. Hopefully there wouldn't be any conflicts that would ensue, leaving height to become a difference.

"What? Judging by that little outfit she's got on, she's fair game," Roy eyed me up and down from behind Nash. I brought my hand up to hit him across the face, but held back. Nash could handle this, I thought.

"Theo, right?" He brought a hand up and rubbed his jaw. He ignored the way Nash looked. He was completely keeping me behind him, protecting me with his body. Yet, Roy seemed to go right through him.

"Is Nash good?" He dropped his voice low. He knew Nash could hear every single word he was saying, and that's what made me even more disgusted when he spoke. "You see, I've never seen him with a girl. So I'm assuming he's had no experience. But, he has to have done something with you, judging by the nice hickey on your neck,"

My face paled in embarrassment, as did Nash's. My hand automatically went to my neck, where Nash's lips had been before. Roy laughed in response. He inched closer so that he was nearly chest to chest with Nash, but craned his neck around him to look me in the eyes.

"Tell me how you like it baby," He murmured, the stench of booze on his breath nearly making me gag. "I bet I could give it to you ten times better than he can,"

I guess in some sort of way, Nash and I were very alike. We're both smart, tough, intimidating. Both quick on our feet, both athletic. And I guess we think alike. Because the second my fist went up, Nash's was already hitting Roy's jaw so hard, his body collapsed after the blow.

"Come near either of us again, and I'll break your neck," Nash said so demanding and so tough, I felt a little intimidated myself. Roy writhed on the ground a bit, clutching his face. Nash took that as a promise because he grabbed my hand roughly and began the path we were in the first place.

"Mother fucking bastard," He mumbled to himself, eyebrows together and jaw clenched.

"She would be proud of you!"

Roy must have got a hold of himself, because he shouted that loud towards us in a clear voice. I had no clue what he meant or who he was referring to. Quite frankly, I was now aware that the only significant she in Nash's life was me.

Nash must have know exactly who Roy was talking about because he froze at first, processing the words. There was a chance that he could have turned around and done much worse damage to Roy. That thought ran through my head at least. But, Nash simply took a deep breath, ran his thumb over my knuckles, and kept walking.

"What was that about?" I asked, as he led me in a direction I only remember from twice before. The night Nash was too drunk to take care of himself and when he told me about my fearlessness. I was going to his room. And I had only one idea why.

Nash grunted a nothing to me, running his hand through his hair. He still didn't tell me anything in regards to what we were doing or where we were going. Even though I had a definite clue.

"Why are you taking me to your apartment?" I asked as seriously as I could for such a stupid question.

"I'm taking you to my apartment so you can change into something more appropriate than what you're wearing. I'm not letting you walk around wearing that," His tone was sharp. And very possessive. I felt like a girl getting scolded by her dad for dressing poorly. And why did he decide now, when I've been wearing this the whole day?

"Why does it matter what anyone sees? They're my clothes, Nash," We reached his door and turned around to face me. He glared at me, yet he didn't touch me at all.

"It matters because I don't want anyone looking at you the way he did. If anyone else even looks at you like that. Even Ky. Because when they do, I want to rip their eyes out of their heads,"

He wrapped his hand around the door knob and opened his door. I walked in, arms crossed across my chest. I wasn't happy, that's for sure. He's treating me like a child, telling me what I can and can't wear.

"I'm going to take a shower. I need to-" He took a breath, turning on the lights. After looked me up and down just with his eyes, he let out the air.

"Cool off,"

I rolled my eyes and headed towards the foot of his bed, taking a seat. The fabric was smooth on my hands and cool. It would be a good change of pace to sleep here instead of the awful beds in the dorms.

"Clothes are in the drawers," He said before shutting the door for what I assumed was the bathroom, leaving me alone.

Beyond sexually frustrated.

NOT EDITED