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

Nara, alt-J

I awoke to the sound of water running and nearly had a heart attack.

"What the hell," I muttered to myself, darting up out of the bed I was in. Where was I? My eyes were still cloudy from my sleep and I couldn't make out my surroundings. I was still in the phase where I had little recollection of what happened the night before, only that I was now awake and confused.

"Morning, beautiful,"

His voice was all I needed to relieve the amnesia. Everything came flooding back to me in vivid color and it all culminated to the electric feeling that I felt last night when his lips touched mine for the first time.

My sight returned, and I made out Nash in the bathroom. He was leaning over the counter, rubbing water onto his face and along his knuckles. He was gloriously shirtless, and maybe it was the tension last night that didn't cause my brain to make out his two tattoos.

There were simple black bands about an inch thick and there was one around each bicep. Something so simple that just looked so good on a body like Nash's.

"What time is it?" I responded groggily, running my hand through my now knotty hair. I knew I probably looked like a hot mess, more the first word. But when I was with Nash, I didn't feel like I need to look attractive all the time. And after being told that he didn't just like the way I looked, it was more than comforting to be around him at my worst.

"Maybe 7:30? 8?" He shrugged and grabbed a towel to dry off his face.

Shit. Wake up was at 6:30. I had no idea what we were doing today, probably just starting the fear landscapes. But I'll still get points deducted for being late. And yet, my trainer didn't seem fazed at all. In fact, he just strutted out of his bathroom with a smug look on his face, face freshly shaven, and tan skin all on display.

He changed out of his black pants and into dark sweatpants that stayed low on his hips. My hormones were still on edge after last night, and this little show he's putting on is not helping them cool.

"Relax, babe. Today's our day off,"

My eyebrows raised automatically at his newfound name for me. God, just hearing him call me babe was intoxicating.

"Babe?" I tried back, cocking my head to the side.

He laughed a bit to himself and began his walk to the side of his bed where the dresser was located. "I wanted to see how it would sound,"

I watched him as he opened the drawers, looking for a shirt.

"I'm not sure how I feel about it yet," I muttered, picking at the lapels of the shirt I was wearing. When I put it on last night, I didn't think there would be anything wrong with wearing it. Except now, I noticed not only were the top buttons completely unknown and the fabric was mostly see-through, showing my black bra no problem.

No wonder Nash was struggling with self control.

"Jesus Christ, Nash," I started , using the soft black covers to shield my entire upper body. "You could have told me I was barely dressed last night,"

He froze for a second, holding a black shirt in his hand. He cocked his head and looked at me. "Now why on earth would I do that?" He said in an innocent tone. "Let's face it Theo, your confidence is through the roof, I'm a guy, and you are the most beautiful girl in the goddamn compound,"

My heart stopped for a second, watching him as he leaned over me on the bed. I wanted to reach out and touch him. The soft strands of dark gold hair. The tanned skin of his torso. The muscles along his biceps as his arms settled on the mattress on both sides of my hips.

But, he wanted me to. I knew the game all too well of letting him get his way. And while I enjoyed playing it as much as the next girl, there comes a point where there should be a switch in the person doing the teasing.

I pulled the cover up higher. "That doesn't mean I don't have any dignity, Ignatius,"

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Please, don't call me that,"

"Oh?" I pursed my lips and leaned up towards him. He smelt like a mix of shaving cream and fire, which is one that rarely occurs in nature. It was beyond addicting, and should really show up more often.

"A little bit sensitive about pre-Dauntless Nash? Don't worry, you're not the only one who wants to forget who they were"

I remember who I thought I was before initiation. Just a cocky girl who thought she had the whole world in front of her. The girl who took everything for granted. The girl who was inseparable from her friends.

But that's not me anymore.

I saw my best friend dead. I felt my dad's hand strike my face. I learned I had no fears. I learned I could and should be dead. In truth, over the course of initiation I've been hit with so many punches, I'm surprised I'm still in the match.

"Well, if I were you," Nash started interrupting my thoughts. His hand came up to move along my cheek. I left myself give in as it trailed down and swept across my bottom lip. "I would be pretty happy in who I am right now,"

He bowed his head and looked away. "I couldn't say the same about me," He mumbled so quietly, if I didn't lean in I would have missed the comment.

My hands instinctively went up to his face and brought his gaze back to me. His skin was cool to the touch and smooth from his recent shave. His face looked pained, and it was odd to see such a beautiful face completely contorted.

"These tattoos," He spoke softly, bringing my hands down to his biceps. I felt the muscles contracted when my fingers graze over the black ink. We both shuddered from the faintest of contact. "Do you want to know what they mean?"

I swallowed, nodding slowly.

"They're chains. Keeping me tied to my past," He exhaled and shut his eyes. "My past isn't a pretty thing, Theodora,"

He was opening up to me. Not just now, also before. His fear landscapes. The scars on his neck. Maybe his past wasn't a pretty thing. Maybe it was unbearable. Hopefully, he isn't who he was back then. It could be stupid to trust someone who tells you their past is messy, and also unbelievably cliche. But, there was something about him. Something that made me trust him in the way he trusts me.

"Hey," I whispered, bringing him closer. We were nearly inches apart, and it didn't feel strange anymore. It felt, right. "If you weren't good, if you were something that awful, you wouldn't be helping me. You know I wouldn't be here right now. You must be something great, because I don't want to be with anyone else but the person I am looking at,"

I pressed my lips gently to his. It was a quick kiss, a lot briefer than the previous ones. It seemed to do it's job, leaving Nash with a small smile on his lips.

"What was that for?" He asked, his hands now on my hips.

I placed another one on the side of his mouth, and one on the faint scar at his jawline. I smiled into his skin when he groaned, standing up and bringing me with him.

"I want to live beyond 40. But, I swear to god Theodora," His finger wrapped around my chin and tilted my head up. "You may be the death of me,"

AN: I'm feeling guilty that I haven't updated. So surprise! There will be an another update soon. But, I just want to say that the concept for next chapter was a lovely idea pitched by EatonDauntlessCake4610. So, thank you for your idea again!