CHAPTER 7 – CRUEL
Tris Prior's POV

I sit on the counter, next to the sink and run the tap on warm. Tobias holds his hand out beneath the water, and I watch as it turns pink from the blood. I had grabbed a new rag from the bathroom, and now I'm trying to wash the red out of his skin carefully, so I don't reopen his cuts. His expression is stoic—he doesn't move, he just lets me take care of him. His face is calm, but he is more quiet than usual.

The dried blood isn't as sticky, it comes off fairly easily and a pool of pink disappears down the drain. We don't talk, he just lets me heal him—I don't think he has anything else he wants to say, and I'm not sure what I could say.

I only shut the tap off when I can see some of the pale skin of his knuckles. They're already swollen and turning purple. "You might want to change your shirt," I say; Eric's blood is still on the collar of his grey t-shirt. It looks black, but it's dried in splatters and drips. Tobias glances down at it briefly, then nods. While I grab ice for his hand, he heads over to the dresser. I've never actually taken care of somebody in distress; Caleb was always the natural at it. But I feel like I know what I'm doing—that I'm not useless in somebody's time of need.

Though I don't believe Tobias would want to call it that.

I grab a clean rag and wrap it around the ice bag, and I turn to see a shirtless Tobias, standing with his back to me. Momentarily, I forget what I am doing. He's about to put a new shirt on when I blurt, "—wait!" Tobias freezes, glancing over his shoulder at me. "I'm sorry," I mutter quickly, I could stare at him forever.

Tobias turns to face me, a small, shy smile on his lips, "You're staring."

I smile, "Your point?" I ask.

"I don't mind it," he says, looking shy and conflicted, "but it's a little out of my comfort zone."

"I can't picture that," I say, shaking my head, "you're too... amazing."

"Amazing?" He asks, laughing bitterly to himself, "you say that like what just happened with Eric wasn't real."

"It doesn't make you any different... not in my eyes," I say, watching his expressions carefully. Tobias pulls the shirt over his head, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. He rests his head between his hands, flexing his fingers every couple of seconds. His skin looks weathered, almost old. For a few minutes, everything pauses. I watch Tobias, Tobias watches the floor. The lights humming is the only noise in the room.

He glances up at me, rubbing the palms of his hands together as he contemplates what to say. I wonder how loud his mind is right now.

"All I picture is growing up to be my father someday..." he finally says, "No matter how hard I try to avoid it, no matter how far I move away from him—I feel like it's inevitable, when I get angry... I am his son, after all."

"Your father is a cruel man," I say slowly, "but that doesn't mean you will be, too."

"So attacking Eric out of malice, or impatience, or whatever you'd like to call it... that's not cruel at all?"

"Just because you did something cruel one time?" I retort, "that doesn't make you that type of person."

He narrows his eyes, "I got what I wanted, and I hurt somebody in the process."

"You can argue it anyway you want to," I give him a hard look, "I'm still going to tell you it's not true. You're not a cruel person, Tobias. Eric is a cruel person—last time I checked. And you're nothing like him."

"My father and I share blood, last time I checked," Tobias sighs.

"Why are you arguing this?" I ask gently, "Why are you trying so hard to make me believe you're a bad person?" Tobias looks at his feet, but says nothing.

"I get afraid that I'll do something worse one day, and you'll realize I was right all along. And you'll take off."

"Look, I know we haven't known each other that long," I feel saddened by his admission suddenly; we share the same fear already—losing each other, "but I'm not going to leave when things go wrong. Tonight was a mistake, but you can't hold onto it, Tobias. It'll eat you alive, and you'll either go through life afraid to make mistakes, or you'll become your father like you said. I would rather see you make mistakes—and move on from them."

I see the furrow in his brow soften, he looks relieved then.

"I don't like making mistakes," he says quietly, "I like having control of things."

"You can't always have control."

"You're right," Tobias sighs.

Tobias stands up from the bed, stalking his way towards me. His fingers knead the back of my neck and his eyes rest on my lips. He kisses me then, keeping me as close as he can. It is not a desperate kiss like I expected, instead he is gentle.

His hands are too gentle, and his smile is too kind to make him a monster. I feel everything in the way he kisses me. Everything comes alive inside of me when Tobias holds me like this.

I pull back to look at him. His eyelids are heavy, and his dark eyes glisten. They are so blue, and deep, like the ocean. His lips are wet from our kiss, and his skin is flushed. "What?" He asks quietly. I rest my forehead on his, and smile.

"You amaze me," I whisper, touching his lips with my fingertips. He grins against them, and I see a flash of white through my fingers.

"You amaze me," Tobias says, shaking his head.

"That's unlikely," I disagree, lightly. Tobias gives me a strange look, then.

"You make me happy, Tris... really, truly happy," and I believe him.

xxxxx

Later that night I stay awake, atop the quilt with Tobias sleeping soundly next to me. His body, once turned to me, now lays stretched out on his back. I watch the rise and fall of his chest; the outlines of his ribs show through his shirt with each breath. I didn't want him to put his shirt back on, but I didn't tell him that either.

It's dark in the room, but I can still see a sliver of skin peeking out just above the waistline of his sweatpants. His arm, that was snug around my waist, now lays limp across it. It touches my stomach, from where my shirt is ruffled up, and I focus on the warmth. I think about what it'd be like to have his hand on my ribs, trailing up my skin...

I think it would be terrifying, but also beautiful.

His lips are parted—he looks so young, so peaceful in sleep. I want to know what he's dreaming about, if he is. I don't want to wake him, but I reach up and brush some of his hair off his forehead. His breaths ghost across my wrist, warm and light. I turn into his side more, and when I'm comfortable enough I feel myself beginning to fall into a deep sleep.

xXxXx

I meet the others just in time for breakfast. Christina and Will notice me first. They don't bombard me with questions—instead they shoot me strange looks.

"You look really happy this morning," Christina comments. I shrug, and take the seat next to Uriah. For a moment, more silence follows, and then they resume their conversation. I don't pay much attention to it, but Lynn catches my attention when she mentions how Eric was this morning.

"—It might be best if Four avoids Eric today," she says, biting the piercing in her lip, "Eric looks... bad," she laughs, and shakes her head.

"How is Four?" Uriah asks before shoveling a large portion of food into his mouth.

"He's alright," I answer with a nod, "it took a little while though..." He told me a lot. It was almost too much to listen to, but I knew I had to, for him. Uriah nods, slowly, listening.

"Zeke was kinda worried about him—said he'd never seen Four so out of it before."

"He's alright. He was in a really good mood this morning, at least." I say, and Uriah smiles a little, relieved.

"—Tris?" I look over to see Christina, expecting my answer to a question I didn't hear. I must be gawking at her. "Did you hear me?"

"Not a word," I laugh. She rolls her eyes at me, then smirks.

"I said, you're joining us for drinks tonight. Right?"

I shake my head, but say, "Of course. How could I miss that?" Christina shoots me a beaming smile.

"Not even for the world," she jokes.

xXxXx

That night, I head down to the pit with Christina, Will, Uriah, Marlene, and Lynn. Tobias is working in the control room, under strict orders. Eric is here tonight. His jaw is swollen, but for the most part it looks somewhat normal. All under his chin is a deep purple color. He doesn't have any piercings back in his lip, and there's a scabbed over cut just above his eyebrow. His eye is black and blue—he actually looks scarier, tougher, than usual. His lips are pressed together in a tight line and he glares at me every time our eyes meet; I try not to glance in his direction too often.

"Eric looks lethal," Marlene says; I nod, because she's right—he looks intimidating, which worries me a little bit. I know I don't have to worry about Tobias, but I can't help but worry for myself. Eric knows how to push Tobias's limits, that much is perfectly clear. There's nothing to say he won't try something else—he could get back at him, by going after me.

"At least his face isn't drenched in blood anymore," Lynn replies. I want to tell her to stop staring at him, but I know she won't listen to me. I think she's hoping to fight him. "God, Four really did a number on his face though... You can actually focus on something other than all of the metal." I can practically feel his eyes boring into the back of my head.

"I wonder if he has any fights for tonight," Lynn says after a moment, "And where's my fight?" Marlene and I give her an incredulous look. She shrugs, "What?"

"Are you insane?" Marlene asks, "after what just happened? Eric's gonna be tougher on all of us, just because we know Four."

"Hey, don't blame him," I say quickly, "Four didn't want to fight Eric last night... last night was Eric's own fault." Lynn rolls her eyes at me, but otherwise doesn't comment. They don't know what Eric said to him—and if they do, I don't think they understand it much. I wish he would come down here, but I know he wouldn't think that was a good idea. Keeping his distance from Eric, for a while, is the best option.

"Quick to defend the boyfriend," Uriah jokes, and though I know he's just trying to lighten the mood I can't push the argument from my mind.

"Well, you know what Eric said," I say it low enough so only he hears me, and he nods. "Do they know, about his father?" I ask him. Uriah shakes his head.

"They only know that he and his father don't get along," he replies, "they don't know the worst of it all. They've never really thought to ask him on it, and you know he wouldn't bring it up. Four is a very private person..." I know he wouldn't, and I wouldn't expect him to. I never thought I'd see him cry—not that he was incapable of being human, or that he's too tough, or too closed off to show emotion—I just never thought I'd see him so raw. It makes me wonder just how much trust he has in me to let me know about it; because I trust him. He felt safe enough to tell me about his father, and I could never use that against him. I could never be as cruel as Eric.

I try not to think too hard about what he told me; my stomach feels sick every time I think of how that person, who is supposed to be his father—is supposed to love him, and take care of them—finds nothing wrong with beating him until he can't lie down. Tobias is just another victim of abuse... except he holds himself differently. I would have never guessed his secrets by just looking at him. To force a child to hide pain and fear behind an obedient expression, it's sickening.

My parents disciplined Caleb and I when they had to, but it was never with their hands or strips of leather. They never treated us with cruelty; but they made their points known, how important it was that we give them respect, so they could give it back to us in return. Violence was frowned upon; Caleb and I never stepped out of line, or argued with each other over ridiculous things. We never really fought. My parents never felt the need to discipline us profusely, so I can't imagine what Tobias went through, and continues to go through, living with those scars—physically, and mentally. He is always so well put together, it's almost like he has no fears at all. But I understand why it's so crucial for him to try and forget, because he wants to be free from it all. I wonder if there are times he ever truly does feel free.

"Did Four ever tell you, how he and Zeke met when they went to school here?" Uriah asks me then, his hands are shoved deep into his pockets. I shake my head. He looks like he shouldn't be telling me this, but he does anyway, "It wasn't until the next school year that they became roommates, but Four lived in a singular dorm down the hall. Zeke, too—different hallways," he explains quickly, "They were supposed to go to Four, but Zeke kept accidentally getting all of the letters from Four's father. He didn't open any of them, but he decided to drop them off... Four accused him of reading them, because he had held onto them for so long. So he and Zeke hated each other in the beginning—it wasn't until Zeke tried to fight him, that he realized Four wouldn't..." Uriah grins at the memory, "Zeke wanted me to keep score... but Four refused to fight him. When my brother asked him why, Four said 'You should know, you had my letters.' So Zeke, naturally being Zeke, started throwing punches thinking that would set him off. Four was a terrible fighter at the time—he just stood there and let Zeke hit him." I feel my eyes welling with tears as I imagine Tobias, motionless, letting someone treat him that way.

"Why?" I bite the inside of my cheek.

"Four's not really much of a fighter... unless he's provoked, of course," Uriah says simply, "He won't fight for stupid reasons. When Zeke realized he wasn't fighting back, he stopped and asked Four what was wrong with him. But Four just walked away... I don't know if he still has those letters, but Zeke used to know where he kept them all at the time... about a week after that, Zeke confronted him again, but this time he wouldn't let Four leave until he knew. Zeke is intrusive... but he has a good heart, he had his reasons. It tore him up a little when he realized Four just took it, without flinching, without a sound... eventually, when they got to be better friends, my mom took Four in like one of us, and he opened up more."

"Does your mother know all of this about him?" I ask. Uriah shakes his head.

"No... she assumes both his parents are dead," he replies, "My mother has a heart of gold, she loves Four no matter what—it's where Zeke gets it from... she is very understanding, but we didn't think she needed to know that much."

"Thank you for telling me that," I say after a moment. I process all that he has told me, and wonder if I should ask Tobias all of the questions I have.

"Four is different now, you know," Uriah says, smiling to himself, "It's good to see him happy, especially after knowing all of that stuff about him."

"I can't imagine what he was like before me, then," I hint, hoping he will keep talking. I don't want to bombard Tobias with so many questions, but I will take any information I can get. Uriah peers over at the others, who still talk amongst themselves, preoccupied.

"Four wasn't really miserable—at least over the last two years. The first year we met him, I already told you most of that. He was just quiet, and kept to himself. But when he came around a little more, he was happier with us. Not as happy as he is with you—that's a strange sight. Four is complicated, very difficult to read and very private. But if you know so much about him already, I can only assume he told you that himself, and willingly."

"Sort of," I say, "complicated and private, yes. Difficult to read, maybe not so much anymore... I think I'm becoming accustomed to reading his mood swings."

Uriah laughs, "That's pretty good, because Zeke and I gave up ages ago. Just like Four 'gave up' on dating," he rolls his eyes.

"Obviously not," I laugh. Uriah nods once.

"I guess that's true."

"Why did he give up?" I ask, curiously, "he only told me he was best at pissing those girls off."

"He was," Uriah chuckles, shaking his head, "He was just awful at talking to girls—I don't even know how he talks to you without the same result. Although, the girls Zeke picked for him were just never a good fit anyway. Let's just say, those first dates were always the last for each girl."

"Was he a jerk?"

"No," Uriah says, shrugging, "I mean, those girls would probably disagree with me. But Four was never rude to them. He just didn't know how to talk to them—sometimes he said the wrong thing, or the way he said it came out wrong."

"In the beginning, he was a bit abrasive," I say, "but he's not so bad now."

"A dull knife," Uriah chuckles, "as he would say."

"Exactly," I laugh.

"Speaking of dull knives," he grins, mischievously, "how about we finally teach you how to fight?"

xXxXx

The next day, Uriah and I head to the training room to meet up with Tobias, Zeke, and Shauna. Shauna and Uriah are determined to teach me how to fight—against Tobias's protests. His arms rest around my waist, with his chin pressed against my shoulder. His body is pressed up against mine from behind me easily, like he is my perfect fit.

"You don't need to learn how to fight," he pleads with me. He buries his face into my neck and it stuns me how open he is being, with an audience—though they are paying much attention to us. He says, quietly to me, "I wouldn't let Eric pit a fight against you..."

"What if I wanted to fight? Or what if I need to know how to protect myself someday?"

"The fights Eric sets up are never fair," Tobias argues, "I wouldn't want to see you fighting with someone twice your size—,"

"—I'm not gonna kill her, sheesh," Shauna retorts, grabbing my wrists; she leads me over to the mat and positions herself, "do exactly as I do." And I try my best to. She shows me where to hold my arms; I don't want her to go easy on me, I won't learn that way. She has to reposition my arms every couple of minutes, so that I'm blocking correctly.

Eventually, Tobias's protests stop the longer he watches. Instead, he tries to help. "Make sure you protect your face," Tobias says, firmly, "and your stomach. Two of the worst places to get hit—you'll go down instantly."

I nod, but I forget to protect my stomach and Shauna's fist uppercuts me in the gut, sending me back a few feet. The air is lost from my body for a moment, as I clutch my waist. I hear Tobias's voice growl out something along the lines of "go easy with her" but I ignore his worry.

Shauna taps my arm after a few seconds, "you alright?" I nod, and straighten up. "Good. First thing's first, you gotta learn to block. Like Four said—you'll go down instantly if somebody gets the first hit to your face, or your gut." I nod, and take a deep breath. We go again; Tobias tells me what he observes, and what I need to improve on, and Shauna keeps going with me until I've made a minor improvement. She managed to get my jaw twice, and my stomach once again—my face stings, and I can imagine the bruise that's forming.

"Not bad," she says, wiping the sweat from her forehead, "you'll definitely need some more work but for the most part you won't need to break any bad habits. As far as we know." She nods at Tobias and steps away from the mat. I join him at the side and he places his hand over the tender skin. It only hurts a little, but his cool fingers sooth my aching skin.

"This is why I don't want you fighting," he says quietly, frowning, "I don't like seeing you hurt. And you won't need to be fighting anybody, anyway." It's not an order or a demand, but concern.

I place my hand over his, and say, "maybe not, but at the very least, it doesn't hurt to know how to protect myself."

"I would protect you." He smiles a little, but his eyes look sad.

"But what if you're not around?" I ask. Tobias doesn't argue, then.

"Let's get you some ice," he says. We head back to his apartment. He grabs an ice pack, gently pressing it to my jaw. The cold feels nice, numbing the throbbing. "You're going to be swollen tomorrow, hopefully no discoloration. Just keep the ice on it for now."

"I'll be fine," I promise, stretching up on my toes to kiss him. He kisses me back, and I sigh against his lips.

"Are you staying tonight?" He asks, hopeful.

"I don't think Christina could handle more of my absence," I say, watching him frown playfully. I know he understands though. His fingers replace mine, and he removes the ice pack to press his lips to the underside of my jaw. I barely feel the throb of pain as I focus on him for a moment.

"Stay," he begs quietly, keeping his voice low.

"You make it hard to say no," I tell him, giving in. He kisses me slowly, bringing his mouth back up to mine, and I can't suppress my content.

When we break apart, I inspect his face for any discoloration from his fight with Eric. His bottom lip is a bit swollen, and there is a split from where Eric caught him. Other than that, it doesn't look like Eric got too many punches in before he went down.

"What is it?" Tobias asks me. I've been staring too long. I bring my fingers up to his mouth, and brush over the cut. His face twitches—it must hurt a little, but he doesn't show much else of a reaction.

"No bruises," I tell him. The corners of his mouth lift up.

"Because I know how to fight," he says without thinking. I give him a look. "What?"

"So you know how to fight and defend yourself, but you don't want me to?" I ask. Tobias groans, looking perplexed for a moment.

"I admit it's not a horrible idea... okay?" He concedes, "but I just don't like the idea of you getting hurt."

"I'll be less hurt learning how to fight than being defenseless in one," I retort.

"I know," he sighs, "You practiced well today... I'm not going to tell you no, there's no point. You want to learn, and Shauna and Uriah want to teach you." I smile, and kiss him briefly.

"Does this mean I win?" He rolls his eyes.

"No," Tobias shakes his head, smirking, "this wasn't an argument."

"But we had different viewpoints."

"Okay, smartass," he teases. Slipping his hands over my neck, he presses his thumbs under my chin and tilts my head up so his forehead is against mine. "You win."

"I like when you give in," I joke, wrapping my arms around his waist. Tobias just shakes his head at me in response.

xXxXx

Tonight, Tobias is free from the control room. Eric is nowhere to be seen. I leave the training room with Shauna right behind, and we join the others. "What took you guys so long?" Lynn asks, handing Shauna a cup. Christina hands me mine.

"Training," I say. My body is feeling everything worse today. Every muscle pulls and aches, new bruises have formed along my stomach, and my arms from blocking. Shauna looks fine, not a bruise or scratch on her.

"She's kicking your ass," Lynn comments. I sigh.

"Tell me about it," I say, "Shauna has beaten me every time."

"You'll learn it," Shauna reassures me, smiling, "don't sweat it too much." Just as she says this, I feel a tap on my shoulder, and turn to see Tobias. He looks tired today—I wonder, briefly, if something is wrong.

"Hey," he smiles, brushing his thumb along my jaw. I no longer wince at the pain, and he looks relieved when I smile back.

"By the way, I'd like my roommate back, Four," Christina says, smirking, "the dorm is entirely too quiet."

"How is that even possible, knowing you," Lynn retorts.

Christina rolls her eyes, "Unless they're doing push-ups on his bed, I want my roommate back—,"

"—Christina!" I hiss, throwing a punch at her arm. Tobias laughs, coughing into his arm. He looks embarrassed, his face almost a bright shade of red. I could kill her for that comment.

"You hit like a girl," she says, rubbing her shoulder, "sheesh, you two act like sex is forbidden, or something."

"Not forbidden," Tobias says, grinning shyly. He clears his throat, "Just... special." I blush harder—I wonder what has just made Tobias admit his inexperience.

Christina looks at me, lowering her voice, she asks, "seriously?"

"Not here," I mouth back.

"You guys have talked about it, at least a little bit, right?" She asks me. I shrug, feeling afraid to raise my voice any higher than a whisper.

"Kind of," I bite my lip, "We said we should wait for now..."

"Well, Will and I were together two years before we finally did it," Christina says, shrugging. Then her eyes get wide, and expression becomes one of genuine curiosity, "Do you know how sex works?"

"I know the basics," I say, blushing furiously. I hear Tobias clear his throat, and he shoots Christina a cautious glare.

"I think that's enough for now," Tobias cuts in.

"Later," she mouths to me, ignoring his glare. I roll my eyes, but nod once. Tobias pulls me into his chest, his lips at my forehead. For a few seconds, he holds me without saying a word. I wonder if he's mad at what Christina asked.

"Do you tell her a lot about us?" He asks finally, his voice light, and maybe even a little teasing. I relax and laugh a little.

"Not enough," I say, shaking my head, "I guess that's why she's—,"

"—Nosy?"

"Persistent," I interject. "Just regular girl talk for her," and Marlene, and Lynn, and probably Shauna, too, I think to myself. Tobias shrugs, his shoulders are stiff with the movement. He seems on edge—it couldn't possibly be just from what Christina said.

Eric is on the platform, calling attention; it is the first time I have seen him tonight. He is announcing tonight's fight—he calls Lynn to the middle, and she looks almost too eager to be fighting. Tonight she'll be fighting Molly, and though it is not Peter, Lynn takes the challenge.

"Come with me," Tobias says after a few minutes.

"Where are we going?" I ask as he leads me away from the crowd, and we sneak through the back hallways; away from all the noise. I'm curious about what he has in mind when one of his hands rest on the wall beside my head, and the other gently pushes me back against the cool stone.

"You look beautiful," he says, staring down at me. His face is so close, his nose just barely touches mine. I feel my heart beat, strong and fast.

"You don't look too bad, yourself," I tease, never looking away. Tobias's eyes linger down my face for a few seconds, before he kisses me hungrily. His hands smooth down my arms until they reach mine, and he closes the gap between our palms. He brings my hands up then, around his neck and his fingers tighten on my hips—he lifts me up easily, however, the wall bears most of my weight.

My body feels weak; his body feels strong beneath me. Faintly, his mouth tastes like mint. He feels good, pressed up against my body like this. Too good. When he pulls back, he lowers me to the ground again and rests his forehead against mine.

"It's getting harder to be wise around you, Tris." My skin is on fire and I want him that way too, but that also scares me. "I thought about what Christina had said..."

"She has no filter," I say sheepishly. Tobias nods.

"I know," he says, "but that's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?"

"I meant, I think it's something to talk about," Tobias explains, rubbing the back of his neck as he speaks, "Obviously, I know you're not ready for that... we're not ready," he adds quickly, "but it doesn't hurt to talk about it—what your limits are, what you're comfortable with..." His face is bright red again as he stands in front of me, stuttering over his words. He looks very flushed, all of a sudden. I find it a little endearing.

I bite the inside of my cheek, "is this something you want to talk about now?"

"Not now," he says, taking my hands in his, "if you don't want to. But I want this to work with you, and I'm willing to do anything it takes, Tris." His eyes are so blue, so clear, and they seek my answer. His declaration is so honest, my smile is almost involuntary.

Sometime later we continue our walk around the quietest parts of the compound, hand in hand. Tobias tells me about what it's like to work with Zeke in the control room, while I tell him about training with Shauna. I have yet to train with Uriah—I imagine it's because he is much stronger than me, or Shauna, and they feel I'm not ready to take him on.

"You took me away from a good fight, you know," I joke.

Tobias laughs, "I've seen Lynn fight plenty of times—trust me, she jumps at any opportunity. You'll see her up there again," he replies.

"Remind me never to take her on," I say.

"I wouldn't even try." He shakes his head, "Lynn fights mean."

The sound of our footsteps echoes off the walls, as we walk towards the chasm. The hallway is long, breaking into two separate directions at the end. Tobias seems to walk absentmindedly, like he has this place memorized perfectly. He probably does.

I peer over at him for a moment; his expression is calm, like he's thinking of something. We pass the hallway leading to the chasm, and I ask again, "Where are we going?" He leads me to a stairwell.

"Well," Tobias starts, "we haven't been on a proper date." A date? Right now?

"Hmm yes, beating somebody up and then being shut away to a control room can limit a person's dating availability," I reply. He laughs, and pulls me closer to his side. At least his mood seems to be better since the fight with Eric.

"Ha, ha," Tobias retorts sarcastically, placing his hands on my shoulders, and squeezing playfully, "tell me then, where do you think we're going?" I look around us, as we walk down another barely lit corridor. At the far end, the faint blue-white glow looks haunting, and familiar.

"Uh..."

"Think about it," Tobias says quietly. And I do―the first time we met, Eric was cornering me in a back hallway. And my first night here—I jumped down the net. Christina showed me the way in from there, and it was this hallway.

"Are we going up to the net?" I ask. I wonder, why the net? Tobias's grin answers my first question though, and he reaches into his pocket, retrieving a silver flask. I eye it, for a few seconds, and shake my head with a smirk.

"You don't have to drink if you don't want to," he says.

"But you want to," I reply. He shrugs.

"A little. Not a lot. And I don't mind sharing, but only if you want to," he says, shaking the contents inside. It sounds full. What was he drinking earlier, I wonder. "Zeke won't even notice I stole this," Tobias smirks. He offers me the flask, and I take it, putting the neck up to my lips. It smells sweet; I take the first sip and it bubbles in my mouth. It's not a particularly hard drink to swallow, but it's a little rough. It tastes like apple.

"What is this?" I ask.

"Champagne," he answers, "Zeke has a bunch of different drinks stocked up. Though this has a low percentage—and he barely drinks this stuff, he kept it for his dates."

"So we're drinking wine tonight? Hmm, not a bad start," I joke.

"Well you know, I thought maybe I could show off my knowledge of the compound―,"

"―I think you've established that," I smirk.

"―Exactly, and after that I thought we could have some time alone," he teases, suggestively; but he doesn't touch me. "It's no movie, or dinner... but it's—,"

"—Sweet," I finish, reaching up to touch his face. He smiles into my palm and places a kiss on my fingers. We get up the stairs, and the only source of light comes from the hole above us. Tobias lifts me up and I roll into the middle of the net. He hoists himself up next, and I watch the tendons in his hands jump and relax with each grip. The net dips down more with his weight, until he's sitting in front of me. "Why did you pick the net?" I ask him.

"It was the first time I saw you," Tobias says, "After you jumped, but before I stopped Eric from cornering you."

"So you knew me before you and I officially met?" I ask. Tobias shrugs.

"I didn't really know you, know you... but I remembered seeing you from that first night."

"You never told me that," I say, blushing then. He pays more attention than I realize, he knew me before I even had a face to his name. But he had the opposite—a face with no name.

"So I was thinking we play a game," he says, then.

"Like twenty questions, or something more sophisticated?" I ask, biting my lip. I can't imagine this net would allow us to play any other type of game. Unless he really did have something else in mind

"What's 'a more sophisticated game'?" He asks, amused. I shrug, letting out a small laugh.

"I don't know... guess what color underwear I'm wearing?" I joke, rolling my eyes.

"That is not sophisticated," Tobias smirks, then he gets a stern look on his face, and says, "blue."

"I wasn't actually being serious," I say, feeling my face heat up. Tobias laughs.

"Well, I'm intrigued now," he says.

"Well, you're wrong," I retort, shaking my head. He plays with my fingers, twisting them around his for a moment.

"White."

"Tobias―" I warn.

"―black."

"I'm not telling you!" I say, embarrassed. I flatten my hands on my thighs, my palms feeling sweaty now. Tobias leans forward, kissing my forehead.

"Then show me," he whispers, and I know he's joking, but I punch his arm. He leans back into the net, laughing almost maniacally, "I'm only joking, Tris."

I try to look angry, though I can't help but laugh with him after a moment. "You're a jerk."

"Well I'm not the nicest," he agrees, lifting my chin up. His eyes, even in the dark, are a charming lapis blue. His voice is soft, he asks, "do you still like me?"

I sigh, smiling, "of course I do." Tobias presses a kiss to my nose, and then to my lips. "Not bad for a first date. Those other girls would be jealous you actually got it right this time," I say against his mouth. Tobias smiles, and bites down gently on my bottom lip.

"It's the best one I've been on," he whispers, gliding his nose along my jaw. His fingers lightly squeeze my hips, and I grin, before pressing a kiss to his temple. I feel his smirk against my skin, and he asks, "What color haven't I guessed yet?"

It takes me a moment to realize what he's asking, and then I roll my eyes. "I'll tell you you're wrong anyway, so just shut up and kiss me."

xXxXx

I train with Shauna again the next night, coming out with only a few scrapes, scratches, and bruises. I took her elbow to my jaw earlier in the week, though it's almost done healing. It doesn't look as bad as it was, at least. And Christina will be happy to not mix colors to match my skin tone.

I drop down onto my bed, bouncing with the mattress and let out a pained moan. Christina laughs, patting my back, "tough session?"

"Shauna kicked my butt again," I sigh, "and my muscles are screaming." My stomach feels tight, from the constant tension I keep and the numerous hits to my gut. There's a constant throbbing just beneath my ribcage, sharp and unrelenting.

"Want some ice?" She asks.

"Please," I whimper. Christina stands up from the bed.

"How are you doing, so far?"

"Shauna says I'm improving..."

"Well that's good," Christina says, smiling, "maybe you'll be strong enough to take Peter on." I laugh, shaking my head.

"I doubt it. My one-ten to his one-seventy, give or take, would prove fatal." I drop my head down onto my pillow, willing my forming headache to go away. My arms are too tired to lift and try to relieve the pain myself. "I would only refuel his ego."

"Aw come on, you're small enough," she replies, "I mean, Lynn took down Molly. Peter is probably half her size. You could do it."

"Well Peter is a boy, and Lynn fights dirty that's why she won," I say.

"Take lessons from her then."

"Uh, definitely not!" I prop myself up to look at her, "I don't plan on swallowing my teeth anytime soon."

"She didn't knock Molly's teeth out."

"She chipped a few," I retort. Christina rolls her eyes at me, and sits down on her bed.

"Chipped...whatever, she didn't lose any." I shake my head, and lie back down. My mattress feels too hard, and it doesn't smell like Tobias. There is no indentation that matches his body, or sunlight streaming in over the bed. I sigh, and try to get comfortable.

Christina looks at me, with a strange expression, "don't look so happy," she says, sarcastically. I give her a look, and she smirks. "I think you can last a night without sleeping in Four's bed."

"Easy for you to say," I mumble; there is no heavy, sweet, musky smell that fills my nose and I find myself highly disappointed. I don't even have his sweater anymore.

"Is he working late?" She asks. I nod, and stretch out on my stomach, determined to fall asleep. Christina shakes her head at me, "I'll come back with ice."

I begin to doze off by the time Christina returns, but I am awake when the ice has melted and the bitter cold seeps into my clothes. The light is off, and I hear her quiet snores from across the room. The only light in the room is from the courtyard; a wonder if Tobias is even awake right now.

The clock reads after two in the morning—he must be asleep.

I glance over at Christina one more time, after my eyes have adjusted to the dark, and then turn on my side away from her; careful not to disturb my sore muscles. It doesn't take me long to fall back asleep.

xXxXx

Tobias Eaton's POV

I let Tris take care of my wounds.

I'm glad she's not talking right now, because I wouldn't know what to say. But that also scares me—what if she's angry with me?

The blood that is now dried onto my skin comes off fairly easy, and I watch as it turns the water pink. She only turns the sink off when my hands are completely clean. My knuckles are already purple, swelling up to almost twice their actual size.

"You might want to change your shirt," she says quietly. I look down, and I see Eric's blood is still on the collar. It almost looks black now. If he had hit me harder, I would have thought it was mine. I change out of my shirt, while she grabs ice from the freezer.

I have my arms through the sleeves when she cries, "—wait!" I freeze, and look back at her, confused. "I'm sorry," She says quickly, twisting the rag in her hands.

"You're staring," I say it almost like a question.

"Your point?" She bites her lip.

"I don't mind it," I explain, "but it's a little out of my comfort zone." I try not to change in front of anyone, if it can be avoided. And typically, it can be. But I did it without thinking this time, almost robotically.

"I can't picture that. You're too... amazing."

"Amazing?" After what just happened, I wonder why that is her first word to describe me. I laugh, a little too bitterly, "you say that like what just happened with Eric wasn't real."

"It doesn't make you any different... not in my eyes," She starts. I pull the shirt over my head quickly, before I sit down on the edge of my bed. Absentmindedly, I flex my fingers out, ignoring the pain. I am utterly stunned, I almost feel paralyzed as everything comes back to me all at once. She wasn't there to see me hit Eric—she must not fully understand how bad I got.

"All I picture is growing up to be my father someday..." I mutter, a little to myself but I speak to her, "No matter how hard I try to avoid it, no matter how far I move away from him—I feel like it's inevitable, when I get angry... I am his son, after all." Tobias Eaton, son of Marcus Eaton... no matter where I go, it won't change who my father is.

"Your father is a cruel man," she says carefully, "but that doesn't mean you will be, too."

"So attacking Eric out of malice, or impatience, or whatever you'd like to call it... that's not cruel at all?" I almost laugh.

"Just because you did something cruel one time?" Tris asks, her voice stern, "that doesn't make you that type of person."

I feel anger swell in my chest; how can she defend me like I did nothing wrong? Like I didn't just cause Eric pain, and harm, just to shut him up. "I got what I wanted, and I hurt somebody in the process."

"You can argue it anyway you want to," She shakes her head, "I'm still going to tell you it's not true. You're not a cruel person, Tobias. Eric is a cruel person—last time I checked. And you're nothing like him."

"My father and I share blood, last time I checked," I sigh, loud and tired.

"Why are you arguing this?" She asks, upset, "Why are you trying so hard to make me believe you're a bad person?" Because I am. How could I ever keep from becoming my father with the same fuse he has?

"I get afraid that I'll do something worse one day, and you'll realize I was right all along. And you'll take off."

"Look, I know we haven't known each other that long, but I'm not going to leave when things go wrong. Tonight was a mistake, but you can't hold onto it, Tobias. It'll eat you alive, and you'll either go through life afraid to make mistakes, or you'll become your father like you said. I would rather see you make mistakes—and move on from them."

She has a point. I feel my muscles relax a little. How does she know what to say when I need her words the most?

"I don't like making mistakes," I admit, "I like having control of things."

"You can't always have control."

"You're right," I say. And she is. I can admit when she is right—she usually is. I stand up and cross the space to her. Her eyes are so striking, so full of fire. I kiss her, but not in the desperate way I thought I would—like I would lose her if I didn't hold her close. I kiss her softly.

She pulls away first, and at first I am afraid kissing her was the wrong thing to do in that moment. But she is watching me with an intensity I have never seen from anybody else. "What?" I ask, innocently. I don't deserve her kindness... I don't deserve her.

Tris smiles, "You amaze me." That word again. I am almost disappointed by it, but I can't be when she looks at me like that. Instead, I actually smile.

"You amaze me," I tell her, shaking my head.

"That's unlikely," she disagrees, and I am confused by her all over again. How she thinks she couldn't be good enough—she is good enough, and then some. She is a better person than me, period.

"You make me happy, Tris... really, truly happy."

xXxXx

I am half-asleep at the controls, with my head resting on my hand. My knuckles dig into my cheekbone, most likely leaving a large red mark imprinted there. I try to rub the sleep from my eyes, but it's fruitless because they droop only seconds later.

Under strict orders, namely because Eric's ego is wounded, I have to stay behind controls until all this blows over. Normally, I wouldn't care that I was stuck up in here but I want to see Tris, and just watching her from glimpses on the screen is not enough.

Basically, Tori has made us avoid each other like the plague today—and I suspect this is how it's going to be until everybody forgets that I beat his face in. I should feel triumphant, victorious, but instead I feel a lot like a pathetic boy in a man's skin.

And Zeke has been watching me like I am about to combust any minute now. It's irritating, but I guess if anybody were to watch over me at least it's Zeke. I still haven't seen the damage I caused to Eric's face—I don't really want to. It wouldn't make me feel any better if I did.

I isolate the Pit's footage from the computers; I don't let Zeke know I am doing this, though. I know he will tell me not to worry about her. But I have only isolated it because Zeke started skimming through all of the cameras, and I want to watch out for Tris and the others since I have nothing better to do.

Tris keeps glancing behind her, which I can't understand why but when I zoom out I get the hint it's because Eric is watching her. Thankfully he doesn't seem like he'll try anything tonight; part of me wonders if he's afraid of what I'll do if he hurts her.

I think about luring Tris away from the others, so I can spend time with her tonight but I don't know where Tori is and if she catches me out by the main area I might end up making this arrangement last longer. Still, I could get Zeke to get her—or Uriah.

"That's the tenth time you've sighed," Zeke mutters from his spot in front of the computer. I glare down at the keys for a moment, and chew the inside of my cheek.

"I just don't want to be stuck up in here," I answer. Zeke shrugs.

"It's not that bad up here," he says, "besides you got me." I smirk, but it doesn't kill the boredom. I glance up at the clock, and see that it's only past nine—five more hours, at most. Unless Zeke can handle the rest at midnight.

I think about how I could sneak out of here, and get Tris alone. I already miss her presence, and after all of the stuff that happened yesterday, somehow she isn't afraid of me.

"Did Tori mention anything to you today?" Zeke asks. I shrug.

"She called me and Eric two brooding idiots who need to just stay away from each other for a little while—but then told me she's glad I found my opportunity to put him in his place."

"Tori can't scold you for shit," Zeke grumbles, shaking his head. Tori has no problem telling any of us off—especially Zeke and Uriah when they pull dumb stunts. But Tori has always had a soft side for me, primarily because she understood me at my worst.

"Well, she's also had enough of Eric's attitude," I say, "as have I."

"I think that ship sailed a long time ago," Zeke agrees, "Some of us just put up with him because we have to."

"Good thing I'm not one of those people," I say, looking down at my bruised knuckles. Though I still feel sick at the thought of getting pleasure out of finally hurting him. Like my worst fears slipped through the cracks of my mind, and took over when I was at my breaking point.

"How did Tris handle it?" Zeke asks me.

"Better than I thought she would," I sigh, "She made me feel better... like it wasn't something I should feel so overwhelmed by."

"You shouldn't," he says, laughing, "Eric is a dick."

"I just don't understand why," I start.

"You don't understand, what? Why Eric is a dick?"

"No, I mean, I don't understand why she took it so well..." I say, shaking my head. Zeke gives me a confused look. I explain, "I told her about my father last night. I told her everything about him—and she didn't look at me any different. She didn't see me as the product of his anger, she saw me as... normal."

"That's good, though," Zeke says, "it obviously means she sees something about you that you don't see yourself."

"There's not much to see," I say with a shrug.

"Trust me, she sees something." A big part of me wants to believe he is right.

xXxXx

The next day, I find out that Uriah has talked Tris into learning how to fight. I can't say that I'm ecstatic about the idea—I don't want Tris fighting, because I just don't want to see her get hurt. I told her against me, protesting her ear off.

"You don't need to learn how to fight," I practically beg. Burying my face into her neck, I tell her, "I wouldn't let Eric pit a fight against you..."

"What if I wanted to fight? Or what if I need to know how to protect myself someday?" She argues, twisting around to face me. I frown.

"The fights Eric sets up are never fair," I plead, "I wouldn't want to see you fighting with someone twice your size—,"

"—I'm not gonna kill her, sheesh," Shauna retorts, pulling Tris away from me. She positions Tris in front of her, and says, "do exactly as I do." I know she is determined to learn the hard way. Shauna has to reposition her arms every couple of minutes, so that she blocks herself correctly.

Eventually, I try to offer advice and help her out when I notice she is getting frustrated. "Make sure you protect your face," I tell her, "and your stomach. Two of the worst places to get hit—you'll go down instantly." I know she is listening, absorbing everything, especially because I am the one telling her what to do now.

But she forgets to protect her stomach and the first uppercut Shauna sends her way causes her to stumble back a few feet. She stands, winded, and I almost tell Shauna that's enough. Instead, I opt for, "Go easy on her." I know she wouldn't want me to step in and stop it—I also know she doesn't like me telling Shauna to go easier on her, but she has to start somewhere.

"You alright?" Shauna asks her. Tris nods after a moment, and I release the breath I didn't know I was holding in, "Good. First thing's first, you gotta learn to block. Like Four said—you'll go down instantly if somebody gets the first hit to your face, or your gut." Shauna keeps going with her until she's made more progress. I tell her what I've noticed and what she could do better on. I can already see the bruise on her jaw forming—I feel uneasy looking at her, knowing that she will be marked up.

"Not bad," Shauna tells Tris, wiping the sweat from her forehead, "you'll definitely need some more work but for the most part you won't need to break any bad habits. As far as we know." She nods at me and steps away from the mat. I walk towards Tris, running my fingers over her skin when I am standing in front of her.

"This is why I don't want you fighting," I say softly, "I don't like seeing you hurt. And you won't need to be fighting anybody, anyway."

She places her hand on top of mine, and smiles, "maybe not, but at the very least, it doesn't hurt to know how to protect myself."

"I would protect you." If she's worried about protection, I would never let anything bad happen to her.

"But what if you're not around?" Tris asks. I guess that's something I didn't really consider... what if I can't be around? She does have a point... right again, I think to myself.

"Let's get you some ice," I say instead. We head back to my apartment and the first thing I grab is ice from the freezer. Her face softens when the cold numbs her pain. "You're going to be swollen tomorrow, hopefully no discoloration. Just keep the ice on it for now."

"I'll be fine," She says, leaning up on her toes to kiss me. Her promise reassures me, but I still don't like that she is hurt already.

"Are you staying tonight?" I ask.

"I don't think Christina could handle more of my absence," she says, and I frown. At this point, it's getting harder to stay away from her in other ways. I don't really care if Christina misses her—I miss her in ways I haven't had her yet. I pull the ice away from her skin and kiss along her jaw. Her skin is cool, and it sends electricity through me when she sighs.

"Stay," I beg, kissing her neck.

"You make it hard to say no," Tris concedes, her fingers grip my arms so tight. I press kisses back up to her lips, but I have to pull back when I feel everything rush all at once. She inspects my face, almost staring right through me, lost in thought.

"What is it?" I ask her. She reaches up, brushing her fingers across my lips. It tickles, but then she runs across the split, and I feel a sharp pinch from pressure on the scab.

"No bruises," Tris says. I smirk.

"Because I know how to fight," I say, absentmindedly. She gives me a hard glare. "What?"

"So you know how to fight and defend yourself, but you don't want me to?" She retorts. Shit... I should have thought my words through first. I groan.

"I admit it's not a horrible idea... okay?" I say, "but I just don't like the idea of you getting hurt."

"I'll be less hurt learning how to fight than being defenseless in one," Tris states matter-of-factly. Such a smartass... I shake my head.

"I know. You practiced well today... I'm not going to tell you no, there's no point. You want to learn, and Shauna and Uriah want to teach you." She smiles like a kid on Christmas, and gives me a quick kiss.

"Does this mean I win?" She asks. I roll my eyes playfully.

"No," I smirk, "this wasn't an argument."

"But we had different viewpoints."

"Okay, smartass," I retort, leaning down to rest my forehead against hers. Her skin is warm, and her skin is smooth, "You win."

"I like when you give in," If only you knew how easy it was for me... a little too easy. It's much harder to not give in when it comes to her—Zeke would say I'm whipped, and I wouldn't disagree. I can only shake my head.

xXxXx

Zeke dozed off during his break, so I grabbed his apartment key and when it was time for mine I made my way to the apartments. He has quite a stash of alcohol—I have never had to buy any, and I know Zeke wouldn't care what I took some anyway.

I don't want to grab something too hard; I want to enjoy my time with Tris tonight, not forget it. I don't need to be drunk around her. I find and finish off a bottle of champagne he keeps in the back of the cabinet; and once I twist the cap back onto my flask, I stow it away in my pocket, and head back to the security room.

I have been thinking of ways to make a first date with Tris—I realized that we have not had a proper one since I met her. At the very least, I owe her that much. I don't think she knows the first time I saw her was when she jumped, I don't remember ever telling her about that.

When I return to the security room, Zeke is sitting at his computer. He is awake, though just barely. "Where did you go?" He asks me.

I lie, "I just went for a walk, to stretch my legs out." He shrugs, but otherwise doesn't comment. I imagine he must not really care. "Oh by the way," I hand his keys to him, "You must have dropped these."

"Thanks, man," Zeke grins, "I hadn't even noticed."

xxxxx

Zeke and I catch up with Uriah and Marlene some time later. Zeke and Uriah turn into true brothers then, bickering and joking back and forth on our way to the Pit. Tori gave me the okay to join Tris and her friends tonight—Eric isn't supposed to be around for most of the night.

I see Tris's blond head immediately, and I make my way to her. She and Shauna must be talking about her training, because I hear Shauna tell her, "You'll learn it. Don't sweat it too much."

I tap her shoulder, and Tris smiles as soon as she realizes it's me. I am unsure of how I will get her away from everyone for this to work—I could be blunt about it, and just tell them I want some time with her, but I can already hear their jokes.

"Hey," I smile back, pleased when I touch her face and she no longer flinches because of her bruises. Christina clears her throat beside us, and we turn to face her.

"By the way, I'd like my roommate back, Four," Christina smirks, "the dorm is entirely too quiet."

"How is that even possible, knowing you," Lynn cuts in.

Christina rolls her eyes, "Unless they're doing push-ups on his bed, I want my roommate back—,"

"—Christina!" Tris snaps, throwing a punch at Christina's arm. I laugh, but I don't mean to. I try to make it sound like a cough, but I know it's too late. Tris gives me a harsh look.

"You hit like a girl," Christina taunts, "sheesh, you two act like sex is forbidden, or something."

"Not forbidden," I clear my throat, "Just... special." I see her blush cover her entire face, and I know it is all new for Tris, too. I won't let her take the heat alone.

"Seriously?" Christina whispers to Tris.

"Not here," She pleads.

"You guys have talked about it, at least a little bit, right?" Christina is too much of a blabbermouth sometimes—Tris looks uncomfortable at her line of questioning.

"Kind of," Tris says, "We said we should wait for now..."

"Well, Will and I were together two years before we finally did it," Christina shrugs as if the topic of her sex life is common knowledge. Maybe it is, but I know Tris is not like that. "Do you know how sex works?"

"I know the basics," Tris replies, biting her lip. I decide to stop this before it gets too personal, and I give Christina a hard stare.

"I think that's enough for now," I say.

"Later," Christina mouths to her. Tris rolls her eyes, but she must think I'm not looking because she nods. I pull Tris into my arms and just hold her there for a moment. I should be mad about what just happened, but I know Christina means well, and she is a good friend to Tris.

"Do you tell her a lot about us?" I ask, keeping my voice light.

"Not enough," Tris laughs nervously, "I guess that's why she's—,"

"—Nosy?"

"Persistent," She corrects me. "Just regular girl talk for her," I shrug, but I find it hard to believe she's just persistent. Nosy is definitely a perfect word to describe Christina's personality.

Our moment is cut short when I hear Eric's voice shout through the Pit, and suddenly I want to find Tori and ask what changed... I decide now is our best chance to leave, "Come with me," I tell her.

"Where are we going?" She asks me as I lead us away from the crowd, and we sneak through the hallways. While we are still in some light, I stop walking and then we are pressed up against the wall together, and I smile down at her.

"You look beautiful," I say, admiring how other worldly she looks in this lighting. I am close enough to kiss her nose, but I brush the back of my fingers beneath her jaw and just stare at her for a moment.

"You don't look too bad, yourself," She teases, and I can't hold back any longer. I kiss her hard, and lace my fingers with hers. I guide her hands to my neck, enjoying the currents running from her touch to my skin. My hands stabilize her once she is holding me, and I lift her up against the wall. She feels so good, the friction is almost too much to take.

There is so much standing between me and this need for her. We could always see where it leads, but I know she is not ready for that—and I don't think I am, if I'm being honest with myself. She works me up so much. "It's getting harder to be wise around you, Tris." My skin burns where her touch leaves, "I thought about what Christina had said..."

"She has no filter," Tris explains, biting her lip. I nod, you think...

"I know," I say instead, "but that's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?"

"I meant, I think it's something to talk about. Obviously, I know you're not ready for that... we're not ready," I stutter my words, "but it doesn't hurt to talk about it—what your limits are, what you're comfortable with..." I don't know why I get so overwhelmed by her, but I can barely talk to her the way I need to right now.

"Is this something you want to talk about now?"

"Not now," I reply, "if you don't want to. But I want this to work with you, and I'm willing to do anything it takes, Tris." She smiles in response, and the weight on my shoulders lifts up immediately.

Sometime later we continue our walk around the most quiet parts of the compound, hand in hand. She asks me about work, while I ask her how her training is coming along. "You took me away from a good fight, you know," Tris teases.

"I've seen Lynn fight plenty of times—trust me, she jumps at any opportunity. You'll see her up there again," I laugh, shaking my head.

"Remind me never to take her on," She says.

"I wouldn't even try." I tell her, "Lynn fights mean." The closer we get to the chasm, the louder our footsteps echo off the stone walls. I don't have to think about where we are going—I know my way around easily.

"Where are we going?" Tris asks, and I know she recognizes some of where we are.

"Well," I start, bringing her hand up to my lips, "we haven't been on a proper date."

Tris smirks, "Hmm yes, beating somebody up and then being shut away to a control room can limit a person's dating availability." I laugh at her sarcasm, and pull her closer to me.

"Ha, ha," I retort then, stopping her in front of me. I place my hands on her shoulders, and squeeze lightly, "tell me then, where do you think we're going?"

"Uh..."

"Think about it," I tell her.

"Are we going up to the net?" She asks almost immediately. I grin, and reach into my pocket, retrieving the flask I filled earlier. Tris stares at it for a moment, then shakes her head.

"You don't have to drink if you don't want to," I say.

"But you want to," She says. I shrug, I don't really care... I just want time with her, alone.

"A little. Not a lot. And I don't mind sharing, but only if you want to. Zeke won't even notice I stole this," I say, grinning. She takes it from my hands and lifts it to her lips, taking a sip. She looks confused for a moment, then she smiles.

"What is this?"

"Champagne," I say, "Zeke has a bunch of different drinks stocked up. Though this has a low percentage—and he barely drinks this stuff, he kept it for his dates."

"So we're drinking wine tonight? Hmm, not a bad start," I hear the humor in her voice.

"Well you know, I thought maybe I could show off my knowledge of the compound―,"

"―I think you've established that," Tris says, rolling her eyes playfully.

"―Exactly, and after that I thought we could have some time alone," But that alone time would be somewhere more reserved... "It's no movie, or dinner... but it's—,"

"—Sweet," She finishes my sentence, tracing her fingers across my lips. I smile and kiss her fingers. We get up the stairs and to the net. I have to help her up, and then I pull myself up after her. "Why did you pick the net?" She asks.

"It was the first time I saw you," I admit, "After you jumped, but before I stopped Eric from cornering you."

"So you knew me before you and I officially met?" Tris asks, shocked. I shrug.

"I didn't really know you, know you... but I remembered seeing you from that first night."

"You never told me that," She blushes, pressing her palms to her cheeks.

"So I was thinking we play a game," I say, watching her for a moment. Her hair looks silver in the light that pools around us from above. Her blue eyes look even more stunning now.

"Like twenty questions, or something more sophisticated?" She asks. I laugh.

"What's 'a more sophisticated game'?"

"I don't know... guess what color underwear I'm wearing?" Tris must say this without thinking, because as soon as she realizes what she's said, she blushes harder and then hides her face.

"That is not sophisticated," I smirk. But as I decide to play along, I fake a firm expression and say, "blue."

"I wasn't actually being serious!" She cries.

"Well, I'm intrigued now," I tease, enjoying the way she tries to hide from me.

"Well, you're wrong," Tris retorts, shaking her hands out. I grab one of them and play with her fingers, trying to calm her down before I call out the next color.

"White."

"Tobias―" She warns. Oh well...

"―black." What have I got to lose?

"I'm not telling you!" Tris says, embarrassed. I laugh harder, and then lean forward to kiss her forehead. This is fun, but seeing the way she reacts to me is even better.

"Then show me," I whisper playfully. She punches my arm, and I fall back into another fit of laughter. "I'm only joking, Tris." She tries to look angry, but fails.

"You're a jerk."

"Well I'm not the nicest," I say, matter-of-factly. I lift her chin with and brush my nose along hers softly, "Do you still like me?"

Tris sighs, "Of course I do." I kiss her nose, and then her lips, "Not bad for a first date. Those other girls would be jealous you actually got it right this time." That they would be.

"It's the best one I've been on," I admit, just enjoying the way she feels beneath my touch. I can't help myself one last time, however. I ask, "What color haven't I guessed yet?"

Tris can only shake her head at me, before saying, "I'll tell you you're wrong anyway, so just shut up and kiss me." And I do, for a long time, just happy to have her selfishly all to myself again.