Authors Note: Hello, again! First of all, I'd like to thank you all so much for reviewing and using such kind words, it means a lot! Second of all, I would like to apologize because I said that this chapter would be up before the weekend, and it's Wednesday. I re-wrote this chapter about three times, but couldn't get out what I wanted to get out. This chapter still doesn't feel right to me, I don't know, but I've decided to post it anyway, deciding that it was the best piece compared to all the other ones I wrote! Also, somebody also told me that the story was a little hard to follow and that I should add dates to each section, and I did think about doing that, I really did, but decided against it. The parts with the quotes are all memories that Tris has of Tobias, and this first two parts of this chapter are before the last part of chapter one, and the last part of this chapter is present day, so I hope that clears it up! Oh, and again, thank you. xx
"He was charismatic, magnetic, electric, and everybody knew it. When he walked in, every woman's head turned. Everyone stood up to talk to him. He was like this hybrid, this mix of a man who couldn't contain himself."
I feel unnoticed.
Sometimes, I enjoy living life in the shadows. Sometimes, I enjoy not being seen. I have always found it easy to go by unnoticed. It has always been easy for me to blend into a crowd, to be there, but at the same time also not really be there. I am not extraordinary looking, I am just average. People do not give me a second glance when I walk into a room.
Not the way they do with Tobias.
I know that he hates attention, he hates all eyes being on him, but I do not think he notices the way that women look at him; the way their eyes train over him like he is fresh meat and they are ready for a taste.
They clearly do not notice that he has not come here alone.
They clearly do not realize that I am here with him.
He takes a seat at the bar, and I slowly linger behind him. I feel awkward and out of place. This is not my usual scenery, but he wanted to come here and I wanted to see they way his eyes light up when he is excited; so I agreed.
His eyes scan mine and he raises an eyebrow as if asking his own silent question.
I bite down on my bottom lip and shake my head slightly, dismissing his question. The worry in his eyes do not disappear though, even when I assure him that I am fine and take a seat next to him.
We have just gotten our first drink when the first woman of the night approaches him. She is clearly flirting with him; never looking away from his eyes, laying her hand on his shoulder for a few more seconds than necessary.
It is clear that he does not realize what she is doing.
Tobias has always been like that. He has never realized how attractive he truly is. Sure, he often makes jokes about it but I do not think he has ever believed it himself. He cannot even see how many women are ogling him, how many women are waiting for their chance to get up and talk to him. He does not see how his presence in a room can affect others. Without knowing it, without even trying to do it, he demands attention the minute he walks in. And he gets it. He gets all the attention he has never desired.
I often resent him for that, but I would never admit that out loud since it makes me selfish. We are alike in someway; we do not mind filling the cracks in the wall instead of demanding attention in the centre of the room. But seeing him, seeing him with everybody's eyes on him makes me jealous. I do not know if my jealousy is the fact that women are looking at him, Tobias, my boyfriend, or if it is because he is getting attention and I am like a ghost; transparent and non-existing.
My calculations may be wrong, but a total of nine different women have come up to Tobias to start a conversation in the total span of a couple of hours.
He acts polite, offering small conversation but never anything deeper. If they do not get the hint, he just turns back to me, planting a kiss on my lips.
It is weird kissing him like this.
Do not get me wrong, kissing Tobias is one of my favorite things in the world, but when he does it to prove a point, to show people something, it makes me feel weird. I know that I should feel happy. He is choosing me over and over again, even when all these beautiful women are basically putty in his hands.
I have never understood why he settled with ordinary when he could have extraordinary.
"I always got the sense that he became torn between being a good person and missing out on all of the opportunities that life could offer a man as magnificent as him."
It is two o'clock in the morning and Tobias still has not returned home.
He is never home this late. Not without telling me first.
I have this weird pit in my stomach that I cannot get rid of. What if something has happened to him?
Throwing my body to the side, I swing my legs out of our double bed and press my feet to the cold, wooden floor. I do not want to sleep. I cannot sleep. Not until I know that he is okay.
The busy city outside my window distracts my thoughts for a little while. I find myself in our living room, sitting on the arm of the couch, glancing outside the window. I love how easy it is to get distracted by the outside world.
He returns home at three o'clock in the morning, and I am still awake.
His hood is right up, covering his face and as soon as he sees that I am awake, that I have been waiting for him to come home, his body shrinks back.
"I didn't expect you to be awake," he says, placing his gym bag on the ground against the coffee table.
I ignore his words and stride over to him. I knew that my gut feeling was right; I knew that something had happened to him.
He may have been smart to cover his face with hoodie, but he never thought to cover his hands. The bruises along his knuckles are a dark purple, and I almost feel like slapping him for trying to hide the bruises on his face that match.
"What happened?" I ask, but we both know it is more of a demand.
"You should see they other guy," he chuckles under his breath, but I can only match his laughter with a scowl.
Gently, yet hesitantly, I remove his hood from his head and gingerly run my fingers along his cheekbone. He does not look like the man I fell in love with. It looks as if an alien as replaced him; I do not know who this version of Tobias is. I do not like this version of Tobias – I know exactly where he has been now. It all makes sense.
"Marcus," I say under my breath, and he just nods.
It took a while for Tobias to open up to me about his childhood; about they way his father abused him, how his mother faked her death to escape the toxic lifestyle she found herself apart of. I have never met Evelyn, Tobias' mother, but I already know that I hate her. I do not understand how a mother can abandon her child like that.
Ever since Marcus returned into Tobias' life, he has gone out of his way to prove himself to him. I do not understand why; I do not understand why Tobias needs to prove the fact that he is better than his father will ever be. I already know that, he already knows that. Marcus does not deserve that kind of attention from Tobias.
I cross the living room to enter the kitchen and pull out a bag of frozen peas. Tobias is sitting on the couch when I return, so I straddle his lap and gently press the bag against his face. He winces slightly at first, but I can tell that it relieves the pain.
Neither of us say anything. We have always been comfortable in the silence that surrounds us; we have never felt the need to fill every second with meaningless chatter. But this time, it feels awkward. There is something hanging between us but neither of us want to address it.
After what feels like hours of silence, I cannot take it anymore.
"You know," I say cautiously, my eyes searching his, "You don't need to prove yourself being the bigger man to your father by beating him up,"
Tobias' brows furrow; his giveaway that I have said something wrong.
"That man is not a father. He has never been a father to me, he will never be a father to me."
I nod, only because the only other thing I know to say would be sorry but we both know that my ego is too big for me to do that.
"Okay, well, you don't need to prove yourself to Marcus by punching him in the face. He doesn't deserve the attention you're giving him, Tobias. He doesn't,"
His gaze softens, but only for a second.
"I am not proving anything to him. I know that I don't owe him anything,"
"Then why are you doing this?" I asked, confused.
"Because I'm sick of everybody looking at me like I'm fucking broken. Everybody knows what he did to me and they don't know how to treat be because of it. If I can prove that I am stronger than him, I can prove that he has no power over me like he used to. If I can do that, then people will finally be able to treat me like a normal person. I won't be seen as broken."
I decide to leave it at that because there is nothing more for me to say. Well, there is plenty more for me to say but I am afraid of how he would react if I said the wrong thing, the things he does not want to hear.
So, I just nod slightly and keep my eyes locked on his.
I wish he realized that there was so much more to life than appearance and proving yourself to people. He has so many opportunities waiting for him in the world, if only he could open his eyes and grab them.
Like I said before, I have not seen Tobias Eaton in over four years.
So, I guess you could imagine the look of surprise on my face when he turns up to my father's burial.
The funeral itself was a closed one; close friends and family being the only ones invited.
My eyes are puffy and red. I have not cried like this since the day I realized Tobias had left me. I have not wanted to cry since that day. Somewhere along the road I somehow managed to convince myself that crying if for the weak, and I am not weak. But I cannot contain myself in this given moment of time. My father, the man who raised my brother and I has passed away. I do not want to cry, I do not, but sometimes, desperate times call for desperate measures, I tell myself.
The last bit of dirt has been thrown over my father's coffin when I notice him.
He is standing in the far distance, leaning against a tree trunk.
At first I think that I am seeing things, that my watery eyes and my sadness may be causing me to see things that are not real. But then he looks at me, and I know that this is real life.
Tobias is here.
My feet are moving before my brain can even register it. I do not know what I will say when I reach him. I do not even know how I am feeling. Angry? Happy? Sad? I feel a bunch of things, really. He picked the wrong day to see me again, and I almost hate him for it.
But despite what he did to me, the life he gave up with me, I know deep down that I can never hate him.
"What are you doing here?" Are the words that escape my mouth as I reach him. I make sure to keep a safe distance between us, not wanting to get any closer than I already am.
He looks older, wiser, and more mature. But he has a certain look in his eyes, a look I cannot explain. I may just be seeing things, making up things in my head but there is emptiness to them. They do not light up the way I always remembered them to.
He looks broken.
"I always liked your dad," He answers simply, his eyes never leaving me. "I was sad when I found out that he passed; I'm so sorry, Tris."
Those last four words cause a rush of emotions to rush over my body, and I feel like I am going to cry again. But I will not do that in front of him. I refuse to cry in front of him. He is sorry for my loss, I know that is what he means, but in his words, I also sense that he is sorry for so much more.
We are silent for a couple of minutes, and I realize how much I have missed feeling comfortable in silence with somebody else.
I stare at the ground, but I can still feel his gaze on me.
"You know it's okay to cry, Tris," He says softly.
I look up at him then, and I instantly begin to shake my head.
"It isn't," I say, and I can hear the way my voice cracks as I do. "If I start crying again, I don't think I'll be able to stop. I don't want to feel weak."
As the words escape past my lips, I also realize that this is probably the most I have ever opened up to him. All Tobias ever wanted was for me to be open and honest with him, but I could never do that. Yet here I find myself confessing things I have kept to myself for so long.
"Crying doesn't make you weak. Crying helps get rid of whatever is making you sad. If you can't stop crying, that isn't a bad thing. I promise."
"The last time you promised me something, I woke up to an empty bed." I snap, yet it is mumbled under my voice.
His body shrinks down, and I almost smile for hitting him in a spot that clearly has not healed. I do not know why, but I like the fact that I can make him cower like that by speaking my mind.
I do not want to stand here and talk to him anymore, so I am grateful that my mother calls my name.
As I turn my back to him, his hand slips into mine, and I am almost certain that I stop breathing for a second.
I have craved his touch for so long, and it is just as I remember it. His touch still makes my skin feel like it is on fire.
"Tris, wait," is all he says.
And so I do. I stop and wait for him to talk, and it is a couple of seconds before he does.
"Can we meet again soon? I want to know what you have been up to,"
It takes all the courage I have in me to do so, but I pull my hand out of his grip and shake my head. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Four."
And with that, despite the fact that my chest burns, that my hands shake, that my heart beats faster than it ever has before, I continue to walk away from him.
He had the final say last time, but now it is my turn.