A/N: I hope you all had a wonderful week!

Thank you to the following for reviewing, you all are lovely! (Daddy's-Little-Monsta, Lunaschild2016, debbie, Divergentsheo4, and Neko-fire demon tempest)

Guest: To answer your question - yes, this is a war story, but the events that happen at the end of Divergent haven't yet happened, and will in this story instead. Basically, the war is just happening a year late. I hope you continue to enjoy my story!


Disclaimer: I don't own Divergent.


Az

Over the course of the next few days, I'm more sore than I've ever been in my life. Eric's training was tough, but I really learned a lot and it was worth barely being able to move my body for a while.

I didn't fight during that time, but I did spar with Zuki and Aaron. A quick glance and a shaking of head from Eric and I knew not to display what I could really do. Instead, I went through the basic moves again, trying to at least perfect those in the hopes that it would help me with my more advanced moves. I also learned some moves from Zuki; the girl was lightning fast, even faster than me. I asked her how she was already so good and she shrugged, explaining that sometimes men would try to harass her on the street, so she had to learn how to defend herself.

Today is Saturday. I'm finally starting to regain the use of my muscles - I stretch them out as I sit up in bed. A glance at the clock on the wall lets me know that it's nine am, way later than we are allowed to be up for training.

"You're finally awake," Zuki says from the cot across from me. She flashes a grin and hops up, grabbing the blanket off of me. "Get dressed; I need to go shopping, and I know you do as well."

It's true. I don't have any clothes besides the few things they gave us for training; I've been meaning to go get some more, but everything keeps getting in the way.

"Sounds good."

Not long afterwards we are walking through the pit, heading towards the first clothing store we see. It's perfect, with clothes in all shades of dark. Dark colors look much better on me than light ones.

"For you I was thinking of a dress; you killed it in that red sundress at the ceremony," Zuki comments, more to herself than to me as she studies the racks of clothes with a thoughtful expression. "And maybe a crop top to show off your abs." I simply shake my head; she must have an ab fetish or something.

She picks me out a few items before shoving me into the changing room and starting the search for clothes for herself.

The only dress she picked out is beautiful; it molds to my torso perfectly before flaring out at the waist and ending at the middle of my thighs. A layer of black silk lies underneath a top layer of black lace with beautiful velvet roses, their color such a dark purple that it could easily pass as black. The back laces up like a corset. I call out for Zuki to help lace it and she grins.

"You look hot."

When I see myself in the crop tops that Zuki chose, I can't help but feel a slight confidence boost at how good they make my stomach look. The slight definition I had before joining Dauntless has hardened into a rock-hard six pack, and I silently thank Six for all of the sit-ups she makes us do.

We also get ourselves some underwear, bras and shoes. In the tall, heeled boots I choose, I'm almost as tall as Zuki, who complains that she can't wear heels because she's already too tall.

After we finish getting our clothes (the lady at the counter explaining the point system in more detail than Four did), Zuki drags me to a store that sells makeup. Appalled that I've never worn any and don't know how to even use the stuff, she immediately sets me down in front of one of the employees and explains the situation. The man, dark-skinned with gorgeous hazel eyes lined with coal black liner, smiles at me.

"You're the transfer from Amity. Az, was it?" he says kindly as he smears foundation onto my skin.

"Yes," I say, not sure how he knows that.

"First jumpers are always known throughout the compound," he says in explanation. He tells me to close my eyes and I feel the odd sensation of light, soft strokes of brushes against my eyelids. "I'm Zak, by the way."

"It's nice to meet you Zak," I say. The feel of his cool fingers occasionally touching my face, turning it this way and that, is oddly relaxing.

We don't speak much for the remainder of the time he does my makeup, and my mind automatically slips to the situation it's been occupied with for the last few days.

I haven't seen much of Eric since he trained me that one night. He still sits with us at meals and occasionally oversees our training, but his eyes have been rather distant lately. He seems a million miles away, and I wonder where he's gone to when his storm-cloud-grey eyes stare emptily at nothing.

This game of cat-and-mouse, of hot-and-cold, is making me crazy. He's just so contradictory. He acts way differently when we are in private than he does when we're around others. I can sort of understand that - he's a Dauntless leader, after all, and I'd imagine that spending too much time in the public eye with an initiate, a transfer no less, wouldn't look too good. Still, if I'm going to be around someone a lot, I want them to treat me in public the same was they do in private; especially if that someone looks at me the way Eric does.

A thrill goes through me as I remember the night we sparred and the hands he let linger for a second too long on my body. He liked to correct my stance, grabbing my waist or shoulders or hips and guiding them into the correct position. His large, rough hands were warm and gentle on my skin, and if he ever noticed the trail of goosebumps that formed wherever he touched me, he never said anything.

The feeling I get when he touches me is intoxicating. I've never been touched like that, so it feels forbidden and exciting and foreign, all at once. I can never tell if I want him to stop or keep going.

I know that I affect him, too - maybe not to the extent with which he affects me, because if there's one thing I'm sure of it's that mine is not the first female body he's experienced - but he's much better at hiding it. Even so, no matter how hard he tries he can't hide the way his breath hitched slightly when I accidentally tripped and braced myself with my hands on his chest, or the way his grey eyes darkened as he watched me go through the moves, his pupils dilating and following the curve of my neck, the twist at my waist.

Add in the fact that he gets pretty jealous whenever Uriah flirts with me and I'm pretty sure whatever feelings he has for me run deeper than the way a Dauntless leader should feel about a transfer.

I haven't been coming on nearly strong enough, and I plan to rectify that as soon as possible.


Zuki does something to my hair to make it shiny and manageable - something I've never been able to do before. It cascades gently down my back and shoulders in a waterfall of dark ringlets.

I wear one of the new crop tops and some tight black pants to lunch. I can hardly recognize myself in the mirror - Zak did my makeup perfectly, and I look flawless. Uriah's jaw nearly hits the floor once he catches sight of me and I smirk a little, feeling positively buoyant at the confidence his dumbfounded look gives me.

Eric, of course, keeps in line with the same attitude he's been having over the past few days - aloof and distant. He doesn't look up as I walk in.

I take my tray and set it down directly across from him, settling into the bench and leaning forwards.

"Hi."

It obviously takes him a minute to realize that I was speaking to him. After a moment more of staring at the table, he lifts his eyes and they suddenly go blank as they land on me.

His grey eyes mesmerize me, as they've done every other time I've had prolonged contact with them. For some reason, the cacophony of the cafeteria melts away. I note, for the first time, that Eric has tiny, barely discernible crinkles at the corners of his eyes. They're adorable and tell me that he loves to laugh.

"Hi."

His deep, husky voice breaks me out of my trance and the noise rushes back in, hitting me like a train. I smile, happy that he's finally acknowledged me.

"How's your day been?" I ask nonchalantly, popping a raspberry in my mouth. His eyebrow quirks up as if that's not the question he expected.

"Fine."

I hum in response, picking up a strawberry and biting into it. The fruit is perfectly ripe, and some red juice dribbles down my chin.

"Mmm," I say, letting my eyes briefly close. I love fruit.

Eric's eyes are trained on my lips, stained red with berry juice. My tongue darts out to catch the drop before it can roll too far. I lick my lips, eyes trained on Eric's face the whole time.

He lets out a breath that's slightly shuddered and I smirk as his eyes rove up my face to finally land on mine.

Eric leans forwards and I feel his cool breath wash over my face. "What are you up to, Amity?" he asks in a low voice, sending shivers down my spine. I ignore the goosebumps trailing down my arms and lean forwards as well. Our faces are rather close now, and I can smell the musky, masculine scent I've come to associate with stormy grey eyes and eyebrow piercings.

"What ever could you mean, Dauntless?"

He turns his head down and chuckles lightly before looking up at me through his lashes, causing my breath to catch in my throat.

"Careful Az," he says in a warning tone, my name rolling off of his tongue for the first time. "You're playing with fire. Wouldn't want you to get burned."

I lean forwards even more, utterly captivated by this little game of words we're playing. "And what if I happen to like fire, Eric?" I murmur quietly.

His breath escapes in a whoosh as he pushes himself from the table and stalks away, hands in his pockets and posture rigid. I blink at the sudden absence and let myself deflate quietly. Every muscle and limb feels wound up and tight. My heart beats fast, brain struggling to catch up with what just happened.

Zuki slides closer to me, staring at me with wide, coal-black eyes. "You could cut that sexual tension with a knife."

A giggle bursts through my lips at her word choice.

Six leans toward us from the other end of the table. "How long has that been going on?" she asks curiously, though there's a subtle tightening to her eyes that speaks of disapproval. I shrug, feigning ignorance, before turning back to my fruit.

"Oh, didn't you know?" Uriah says in a conspiratorial voice. "They're dating."

The piece of cantaloupe I'm chewing falls back onto my plate as I gape at Uriah, mouth hanging open like a fish.

"What the hell, Azalea?" Four says in shock, turning to me along with everyone else within hearing distance. I can feel my face burning as I stand up, yanking Uriah up as well. I grab him by the ear and drag him out of the cafeteria. He sends everyone a cheeky wave as we walk out of the door.

"You are so going to pay you little shit," I growl as I throw him against the wall out in the hall. "Where the hell did you get the idea that Eric and I are dating?"

He simply shrugs, a carefree smile on his face. "I have my sources. You don't have to be so uptight about it, pretty Azalea flower; everyone here is cool."

"This is so not okay, Uriah!" I say, grabbing at the ends of my curls anxiously. "Do you know how pissed he's going to be when he finds out there's rumors of us dating? I'm just barely getting him to open up now; he's going to be so closed off after this! He's probably going to think that I started them!"

Uriah frowns, finally catching on to the fact that I'm truly upset by this. "Whoa, calm down Mama. You guys really aren't dating?"

"No!" I exclaim.

"But I could have sworn..." he says, trailing off. Shaking his head, he turns back to me, his face more serious than I've ever seen it. "What did you mean by you're 'just barely getting him to open up now'?"

I groan, letting my back hit the wall and sliding down. "I like him, okay? I like him a lot, and I know he likes me, but trying to get Eric to open up is like trying to break open a coconut with your bare hands."

He sits next to me against the wall. "I can do that."

I punch him. "Shut up. The point is, I finally feel like I'm making progress, but now I'm pretty sure this is going to set me back a whole lot, and it really sucks."

Uriah sighs, running a hand over his head. "I'm sorry, Mama; I didn't know."

"I know," I whisper, letting my head fall into my hands. "I'm probably overreacting; I'm just scared of what he's going to think when he hears about it."

"If it helps, I'll try to do some damage control. Tell everyone it was just a stupid rumor and that it's not true," he offers hopefully.

I smile. "That would be helpful."

"I'm really sorry Az," he says sincerely. "I really thought you guys were together."

"What made you even think that in the first place?" I ask curiously.

"Well..." he says sheepishly before admitting that he saw us walking back from the training room, both shirtless and sweaty, and jumped to conclusions.

I roll my eyes and punch him again. "Ugh. I wish you would have just asked me about it, you blockhead. Next time, try and come to me before jumping to conclusions, please?"

He grins happily at me, and I know that despite how annoying and meddlesome he is, Uriah is a really good friend to have. "Deal."


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