Hello Everyone!
This is my attempt at publishing a story on here . Also, this is my very first time at writing a fan fiction as well. I am a bit nervous about the reactions to this one.
This is an A/U, non-canon fanfic inspired by "The Divergent Series". There's no war. Mere mentions of the existence of divergents. No Abegnation massacre. Plus, I added some history and other things as well. This tale is "Rate M" for the adult language, adult themes and... um, the lemons and the limes that are sprinkle through the story.
When it comes to this story, I was inspired by another fan fiction writer, talented and lovely SparkleMichele (she has a fan fiction and has published several stories, relating to Sons of Anarchy... So, check her out if you're interested). I was inspired by an "Imagine..." that she has on her Tumblr page (once again, check it out) which was about a love triangle involving Dauntless leader Eric and an OFC. That sliver of inspiration caused me to indulge in my whims for once and write a smutty 'one-shot' with lemon-y goodness at the end. This led to me discovering that I don't have the ability to write 'one-shots'. I am too damn detailed with my stories and I hate rushing to a point. LOL!
So this story was turned into a full-fledge story. A short story, to be quite honest with you. I am almost finish with the writing process. I would love to write sequels for this tale, but I don't know if I will yet.
Ever since this is a fan fiction for the "Divergent Series", I must add the disclaimer.
Disclaimer: When it comes to the characters, the original premise and the settings of The Divergent Trilogy, I do not own any of them. Veronica Roth owns them. I only own the original characters that you will read.
Enjoy!
The loud shrillness of the alarm snatched Nasira from out of her dreams as if it was an actual hand. She quickly sat upright and planted a clammy hand over her left breast. Her palm felt the strong and sturdy thumps that made up her heartbeats. Her sleep-coated eyes scanned her bedroom, as if to ensure herself that she indeed had fallen asleep in her bedroom. 'Okay, calm yourself,' her inner voice spoke. 'Just… Think of him.'
Then, at that moment, she received the biggest reminder: a series of flutters inside of her stomach. The flutters then turned into a ball of pressurized discomfort near the pit of her belly, right underneath her navel. Her fingers sought after the tender spot, where she gave a firm yet benevolent poke. A millisecond later, she received another fluttering sensation. She giggled.
Her eyes drifted down to view the top of her extended belly, which was the temporary home for her unborn son, for the next three weeks. She sweetly said, "Hey baby boy!" with a wide, toothy smile. "How are you doing?" Her palms and fingers caressed her stomach's expanded flesh. "I'm alright. I'm just excited to meet you."
After having her interaction with her son, Nasira started her daily morning process before she left for work: showered, ate a full breakfast meal and looked in her closet for an outfit for the day. Being that she was a member of the dauntless faction, black was the sole approved color for her to wear. She really had to fight those ongoing urges to wear clothes that were another color other than black or maroon, which was another acceptable color for the faction members to wear. The expectant, mom-to-be had to disregard the rack of colorful items that she secretly wore in her apartment and she picked a suitable black outfit. She chose to wear an ankle-length, fitted cotton dress that was held up by a halter top. There was a hip-length slit that exposed the right thigh, whenever she took a step. After fixing her thick, shoulder-length hair and throwing on some jewelry, she realized that she made an effort to look stylish for a change.
'This is a first. The last time I actually put some thought into…' Her mind's eye conjured up a memory from the striking evening. There were flashes of red chiffon, bared brown skin and a pleasant reminder of a bright full moon, as well as, fissures of mind-numbing pleasure. 'No… No… No. Don't remember that night. Please,' her brain pleaded with herself.
As she applied a coat of pink lip gloss to her plump bottom lip, her eyes did an unintentional glimpse at her nightstand clock. The neon green, electric numbers spelt out the time as being '9:48 AM'. She was supposed to leave her home eighteen minutes ago. 'Shit, I gotta go! I'm going to be late if I don't!'
*~oMLo~*
'Soooo, today is going to be one of those days for me, huh?' she pondered as she stood in the fourth security check-point line that was placed in the Dauntless main headquarters.
She was in the twenty-third spot of the line and the security guards had just finished checking the fifth person. She checked the time from off of her cell phone and read the numbers '11:34 AM'. It was official: she was late to work, which was a first-time feat. Her day really didn't start yet and it was already acting up like a churlish child. Once she left her apartment, she had gone to use the elevator and learned that it was out of order. So, she had taken the stairs from the fourth floor. Being that she was nine months pregnant, she had to take her time, so a ten-minute activity ended up being a twenty-minute activity for her. After she left the apartment building, she traveled to her black Jeep Wrangler and discovered that she was heavily boxed by other vehicles in the tenants' parking lot. Rather than contact the building's manager in order to solve this problem, she decided to take public transportation into the faction's business sector. She had to wait an additional twelve minutes for a bus, which she damned near had to shove and push her way in, so she could travel to work. Sixteen minutes away from her job's location, the bus had to make a detour due to a vehicular accident on a street. The detour added another eleven minutes to her trip. Once off of the bus, she performed a slight skip-frolicked, brisk walk to her job. She worked out the faction's most-populated sector in the faction's main headquarters, which was affectionately known as 'The Mind'.
Being that The Mind housed the offices of the factions' important figures such as the leaders, the ambassadors, as well as, important organizations such as the police department and the location of the Control Room, each employee had to go through four security check-points. Nasira was waiting to go through number four.
'Can this day become any wors—
"BEEEEEEEPPPPP! BEEEEEEEEEPPP! BEEEEEEEEPPPP! BEEEEEEEEPPPPP!"
"Ma'am?" a security officer announced to a woman that was eleven spots ahead of Nasira's position. "Can you please step through the metal detectors again?"
'UUUUGGGGGGGHHHHH!'
*~oMLo~*
'Okay, maybe he's in his office. Hopefully, the asshole is in his office. Okay, more than likely, he won't be in his office. But one can hope, right?'
Nasira arrived to her department, the Systems Analyst Unit where she was one of the chief computer software technicians, thirty-five minutes after her experience with the check-point. Once she stepped off of the elevator that led her to the sub-level floor, she began to look out for her supervisor, Rafe. She traveled down the hallways using quick footfalls. She gave her colleagues firm, quick greetings while she remained mobile. She entered the air-conditioned, dimly lit and open-spaced area that was occupied with numerous cubicles, with one goal in mind: make it to her cubicle without Rafe spotting her. She knew that she could have an acquaintance of hers, who worked in the timekeeping unit, change her sign-in time. All she needed was for the lanky, tattooed glorified-pincushion to not see her. She ducked down as far as she could go and she trotted down the aisles that quickly led her to her desk. Her eyes did survey each open space.
'Okay, so far, so good.'
When she spotted a familiar black cubicle wall that held the nameplate that read 'Nasira Grant', she unleashed a sigh of relief. She stood up straight and slipped her arms out of her knapsack's straps. With a nonchalant gait and a calmed nature, she walked upright for the rest of the way. She entered her cubicle, only to see that it was already occupied.
'FFFFFUUUCCCKKK, MAN!' her brain screamed in agitation as her sight settled on the lanky frame that was relaxing in her rolling, executive chair.
Rafe McDaniels sat in her chair as if he belonged there. He had the back of her chair reclined backwards to the point where it seemed as if it would touch the floor. His long, skinny jean-clad legs were extended out in front of him and was crossed at the ankles. His elbows rested on the armchairs. In his left hand, he held a hot pink, rubber stress ball, which belonged to her. He stared straight ahead, at the cubicle's wall that was in front of him. His tattooed profile was on display.
"Miss Grant…" he greeted her in a taunting twang. He turned his face towards her, showing off his full profile that was decorated with numerous piercings. His hazel-green eyes zeroed in on her. "…you're late," he announced.
"I know," she stated with a head nod. Her eyes did a nervous twitch. "I'm sorry, Sir…" Her head did several shakes. "…It will never happen again," she promised. She didn't know whether or not her pitiful display would get the jackass off of her back sooner, but it was worth a try.
Rafe swung the chair ninety-degrees, so he could face her. "I know that it is difficult for you to move quickly…" She watched his eyes focus on her expanded tummy. "…in your delicate and special condition, but I would've hoped that you would've learned by now to adapt—
"Hey, Rafe?!"
The voice had come from the cubicle that was to the left of hers. A second later, a person popped up, a woman with pale blond hair and several facial piercings. She stared over the partition.
"Yes?" he stated in an authoritative tone of voice. Even though he was talking to the other employee, his eyes remained on Nasira.
"I got one of the secretaries from the leadership—
"Put her through on Miss Grant's phone. Now!" his voice boomed.
"Gotcha," the employee plainly stated. Nasira heard the person mumble 'You fucking dick-hole' under their breath as they moved to sit down.
She turned her attention back to Rafe, who was now speaking to someone on her desk's telephone. Then it hit her. He was speaking to a secretary who worked on the leadership wing, which meant that something needed a repair. More than likely, a piece of equipment in one of the leaders' offices needed a repair.
'Shit,' her mind groaned. 'Okay, be positive. Maybe it's not him. There are other leaders up there. Maybe it's Max's computer. And besides, Rafe doesn't have to send me up there. He could send Patrick— No, he's not going to send him up there. There's other chiefs he could send. I'm not the only person who—
"Grant!"
His loud, booming voice cut through her pondering. She focused on her boss again. He was now facing her again. "Yes Sir?"
"I need you to go to the leadership…"
'Aww man, what-the-fuck is wrong with my life today?'
"…wing to fetch a broken e-tablet from a leader," he reported.
"Which one, Sir?" she asked, with a fringe of hope attached to her voice. 'Please, don't be him. Don't be him. Don't be him…'
"Eric…"
'FUCK MY LIFE!'
"…Coulter," answered Rafe.
'FUCKITY-FUCK-FUCK-FUCK THIS SHIT, MAN!'
"Miss Grant, I need for you to make this job your top priority right now. Forget about all of the other work that you have right now," Rafe instructed. "I need for you to go upstairs and picked this thing up. You promise him or his secretary that you'll fix this thing and have it for him before the end of the day. You, and only you, work on this tablet. If the problem is not software-related, you better haul your fat ass…"
Her hands balled up into fists just as her anger rose. 'This fucking asshole…'
"…to the technical labs and have one of those geeks work on it," he ordered. "And if they can't fix it, then get him a new one—A better one! One of the newest models and hook that up with all of his preferences and personal data. Do you understand me?"
Through her clenched teeth, she uttered "You were crystal clear". She didn't say another word to her boss. She walked away from her cubicle and back out of the department again. She slipped on her knapsack again as she waited for the elevator to take her to the eighth floor, which was known as the leadership wing. As she rode in the elevator, her mind began to conjure up old memories.
*~oMLo~*
'I hope that this repair doesn't take too long,' she said to herself as she rode the elevator.
The elevator's automated voice announced her arrival to the eighth floor before the carriage stopped. As soon as the elevator's door was opened wide enough, she slipped her ample figure through the space. Her sneakers made a thick 'clunk'-ing sound with each step on the black marble floor. She left the elevator bay and entered the posh decorated waiting area. She approached the semi-circular, receptionist's station. Sitting in the middle of the structure's opening was a woman that was dressed like a stereotypical 'Dauntless transfer', according to Nasira: all-black apparel with several ostentatious tattoos and piercings on her body. Her hair was a cacophony of colors while she had all her body's curves on display. The receptionist kept her eyes on the contents that were on her desk rather than on the person who was about to approach the desk.
"Good morning…" Nasira greeted the woman. She noticed the receptionist's eyes did a brief glance at her before resuming her task. "I am fr—
"Yes, good morning, how can I help you?" the seated woman plainly stated, as well as, rudely interrupted.
'Bitch,' Nasira's brain grumbled. Her full top lip twitched a few ticks, a way of avoiding the event of forming a snarl, before she had spoken up again. "I am from the Systems Analyst Te…" As she spoke, she saw the receptionist's vision land on her bulging belly. In a split second, the fine, cosmetic-enhanced features on her face did a sign of disgust. Nasira felt a wave of heat flood her just as her anger rose. 'Today is not the best-fucking-day for me!' she silently shouted. "…ch Department…" Her right hand snatched up her work identification badge that hung from a lanyard that was around her neck. She presented the badge to the rude, insipid bitch that sat at the front desk. The woman's eyes did a brief glimpse at the badge. Nasira released it from her grip. "… I am here to pick up an item from Dauntless Leader Eric Coulter."
The young chief computer technician took note of the weird luster that took over the woman's brown eyes. For a few seconds, at the mention of his name, her face held a pleasant serene look as if she was recalling a very fine memory. For Nasira, she made a lascivious-fueled assumption about what type of memory that this woman was re-living. Just as soon as it appeared, the serene look disappeared and the unnamed woman's 'bitch face' returned. She eyed the technician with a tilt of an eyebrow. "Your name?"
Nasira internally smiled a smug one because she was aware of the impending reaction that this woman will have, once she learned who she was. Or rather, which Dauntless dynasty that she hailed from. "My name is Nasira Grant," she answered.
Sure enough, the piss-poor behavior had quickly disappeared after she heard the name and her brain reminded the woman of the tech's lineage. The woman slightly shifted in her black leather rolling chair, a sign of her discomfort while her face slipped on a mask of pleasantry. In a friendlier and warmer tone, she said "Ma'am— Miss Grant, in order to get to Dauntless Leader Eric Coulter's office-suite, you have to take this hallway…" The woman's left index finger pointed to the hallway's entrance that was located behind Nasira. "…and make a right. His office-suite is the last one on the left side."
The mom-to-be gave the receptionist a simple smile. "Thank you," she said too sweetly. She was enjoying the woman's back-pedaling too much.
"You're welcome…" She unleashed an unnatural toothy smile, another sign of her nervousness. "Have a nice day!"
"You too," Nasira announced before walking away. 'Bitch.'
*~oMLo~*
Fifteen months and two weeks ago...
'I hope that this repair don't take too long because it is eating away at my lunch time!'
Nasira continued to walk down the isolated corridor while glancing at the mounted wall plaques that hung beside each closed, conference room's entryway. 'Rafe's fucking ass had the nerve to fetch me from the cafeteria to do this shit! The nerve of his bony ass! If this is soooo important, then he could've came up here to do this shit himself! After all, he likes to think that he's so smart. Typical-fucking-Erudite-nose!' She made a left turn into another hallway and her vision was suddenly blinded with the color of blue. Or rather, she noticed that the hallway was unusually populated with folks dressed in blue. They appeared to be on a break. There were blue people sitting down in chairs, talking to each other. There were some people talking to each other while leaning up against the wall. Blue people were using their cell phones and others were working from their tablets. Nasira stared at all of them as she walked through the hallway. 'Blue… Blue… Blue… Blue is… Erudite! Erudite-blue! Wait! Why people from Erudite are here? What's…? You know what? Never mind, it is not my business! I am here to fix a fucking projector.'
The young technician found the conference room that she was looking for. She was still living inside of her head as she entered the room. Her activity was disrupted when she heard someone call her name. 'It's Patrick,' her brain reminded her. Immediately, a wave of warmth covered her body while her heartbeats picked up its pace and a blush crept up in her face. Her dark brown eyes landed on the creature that was the inspiration behind these reactions. Patrick stood by the side of a long rectangular-shaped, conference table. His large, muscular six-feet-five inched frame was hunched over. He was staring at the screen that was attached to a laptop. Using his left hand, he summoned her over. Walking over to him, she felt her heart slam against her breast bone and her stomach flutter. She knew that it was very foolish for her to act like a teenager, but she couldn't help it.
Despite the pleasant-feeling catastrophe that was going on inside of her, she was cool and collected externally. "Hey Patrick, what's going on?" she said in a neutral, almost bored voice. Her nose caught a whiff of the cologne that was floating off of him. 'God, he smells so good,' she secretly swooned.
"I'm having trouble hooking this projector up to the laptop…." He stood upright and taken a few steps off to the side. He stared down at her. "… I've tried everything that I could come up with and nothing is working," he reported. "Do you think that you could do your magic on this?" There was a lop-sided grin on his face that showcased his sense of accepted humility and highlighted the pair of dimples on his cheeks.
A shiver ran through her body. "I can give it the ol' college try," she informed him. She gave him a smile, pulled out the closest available chair and she proceeded to get to work. Within six minutes, she discovered the problem, assessed the situation, thought of possible routes to correct the problem and then she picked one to fix it. Within those short six minutes, she was able to fix the problem, so the meeting could begin. Just when she thought that she could return to her remaining peanut butter and jelly sandwich that was hiding in her desk's drawer, she was given more bad news. She was instructed to stay for the meeting by one of the meeting's orchestrators. They wanted someone with 'more experienced with tech equipment' in the room, just in case the projector needed more repairs.
Hearing such a statement made her cheeks burned with mortification and second-hand embarrassment for Patrick, who was the first repair man that was assigned to this room. Once the meeting progressed, both she and Patrick had to stand in a darkened corner, one that was closest to the table. She felt as if they were treating her like she was a maid, who had to wait on the rich guests, hand and foot. She glanced over at her colleague. He appeared to be enthralled with the meeting's subject matter and the Power Point presentation that had gone along with it.
So, he was totally oblivious to Nasira's steady ogling. Her eyes took in the way his all-black business attire flattered his deep brown skin. She considered his skin to be flawless: no signs of blemishes and his complexion was even toned. Patrick always dressed atypical from the other male, Dauntless faction members. He wore buttoned shirts and slacks that were tailored to his tall frame. He kept his shoes, and even his sneakers, well-maintained. Soon, she was conjuring up fake scenarios in her mind that involved her playing the role of his wife and mother to his children. It was during her imagined scenario in which both she and the hypothetical kids were sitting on their porch, carving up pumpkins when she recalled the moment that occurred close to an hour ago.
"No-no-no-no, you… Stay. We need someone else hear with, uh, more experience. Just in case, this projector wants to break down again."
Her sense of mortification returned and she had to cover her face with her sleeved-up hands. She growled softly into her palms and then bit into the knitted fabric, in order to bear down on the sensation that she was enduring. 'I can't believe that asshole said that! How fucking rude—
'A man needs to be a man, Nassy!'
Suddenly, her mother's voice penetrated her thoughts. Then she realized it was actually a memory, a childhood one.
'… If he is a real good one, then he won't allow his wife to financially provide for his family… No, it has nothing to do with his ego or his pride. It's just the way things are with us, humans…. Baby, it doesn't matter if a man is from Dauntless, Erudite, Amity, Abnegation or from Candor, he'll want to be the 'head of his household'… Once again, baby, I'm not saying that he wants to be an abusive control freak… Also 'nother thing: don't you ever embarrass a man. You got that? Don't you ever make a man feel less than a man, whether if it is in the privacy of your home or in public. Never embarrass him. I've seen men do things to people, when they were embarrassed. The type of things where a man can't correct them… Just stuff that you shouldn't have in your head… Of course, you're going to get angry at your boyfriends… Hell, I do get angry at your father… Yeah, you might get angry at him. But try not to hurt him to the point where he can't get back up… No, Nassy, (chuckles) I don't mean kicking him in his balls!'
Now she fully understood the message behind her mother's pearls of wisdom. She removed her hands away from her face and she did a side-eyed glance at her crush. She silently calculated that he didn't appear upset or resentful about her presence. Actually, he was more content and calm. She knew that his demeanor could've been a façade after all. His birth faction was Abnegation.
A sound of a cough tore her attention away from Patrick. She scanned the conference room and the other occupants. She knew which people were paying attention to the presenter and which ones were distracted. 'There's…' Her eyes did a sweep and counted all of the Erudite members that came to this meeting. '…one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight people from Erudite…' She did another observation, but this time she glimpsed at their jackets' lapels for any gold pins. '…One. There's one leader amongst them.' Her eyes did a full sweep of the Dauntless members who sat at the table. 'One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten-eleven… Eleven members…' Her eyes searched for neck tattoos and hand tattoos, which were signs of leadership. Her eyes came across one leader as he sat at the end of the table. His leadership tattoos were displayed on his neck, near his ears. She noticed that his head was bowed and his hands were not on the table. His eyes held a glazed over yet alert look about them. The tip of his tongue stuck out and curled over his top lip. 'He's playing a video game on his phone…' She scanned the table again and found another leader. He was sitting on the left side of the table and the one closest to the projector. She saw his leadership tattoos clearly because he was gazing over in her direction. 'Shit!' She froze.
She couldn't turn her attention away from this particular leader's glare. She felt like she was a Greek soldier who was in Medusa's lair and who was unfortunate enough to come across the vile creature. Except this particular creature did not look vile at all. Nasira knew that if she wasn't such a nosy creature and she didn't understand body language, she would've thought that this man was handsome. She also knew that his heavy and sturdy gazing would've done some damage to her panties. This particular leader was young-looking, so she assumed that he must've been one of the new leaders that were added within the last few years. For Nasira, she stopped showing interest in the new leaders' lineup, once she was initiated into the Dauntless faction as a full-fledge member.
'But he does look familiar though,' she said to herself.
Her dark brown eyes' sight playfully danced all over the young Dauntless leader's physique. She first took note of his eyes. They were intense, but beautiful. When there was dim lighting in the room, thanks to the projection screen, his eyes would appear to be obsidian, almost the same color of his uniform. Then when a bright color would flash across the screen they would light up to a bright blue. It was like God made his eyes to represent the sky. She almost missed the garish hairdo and the two piercings, because she was so focused on his eyes. The top of his head held longer hair which was slathered down with hair gel and was given a slight bump. The sides were tapered down. It was an unusual hairdo, but it wasn't weird enough for this faction. The piercings above his left brow caused her to stare at the gauges that were in each of his earlobes. His thick, pale-skinned neck stuck out of his black shirt. There, on his neck, was his leadership tattoo. There were four columns of blocks that started from his collarbone and ended right before his neck connected to his jaw. 'Right on the neck. A place where he could show off his title and brag about it without having to open up his mouth.'
She had forgotten the significance of the columns, but she remembered the concept of 'having more' meant someone of importance. Her godfather, Max, had seven columns tattooed on his hands, each column was tattooed on each finger. Her late father Goliath had six columns on his back that had gone from the top of his shoulders to the small of his back. Her uncle Xerxes had five columns on his calves: three columns on his left calf and two on his right.
'For him to have four columns and at such a young age, he must be doing something right.'
She saw his relaxed posture in his black, leather chair. He was leaning into the back of the chair. His arms casually rested on the armrests to the point where they looked as if they could fall off. His long legs were tucked underneath the table so she couldn't see them. But she did assumed that he must've had them extended. As he sat in his comfortable chair, he kept staring in her direction and the energy that was swirling in those cerulean-hued orbs was not a happy one.
'Okay, who is he and what-in the-hell did I do to him?' she pondered as she gave him a hard stare.
Nasira was ripped out of her thoughts when a sudden sneezing sound rang out into the conference room. Suddenly all eyes were focused on the darkened corner. Her cheeks buzzed and blushed in response to being the subject of everyone's attention.
"I'm-I'm sorry everyone," Patrick apologized, with his humility and genuine regret on display. Her eyes did a swift peek at her tall co-worker, who was wiping at his nose with a pocket square. Then she scanned the room again to watch the meeting's occupants settle back down. As much as she wanted to avoid his penetrating glare, her line of sight did land on the nameless Dauntless leader. His line of sight was steadfast and committed, she thought as she watched him watch her.
'Okay, who in the hell is he and why does he keep looking at me?' she silently groaned in irritation. 'Do I know him? Did we go to school or something?' Her vision bounced off of his face and landed on the breast pocket of his jacket. 'Name tag! I totally forgotten about the— Shit, I need my glasses!' Nasira's left hand reached into the inside pocket of her ankle-length duster and produced a black eyeglass case. She fetched her glasses and slipped them on. In an instant, her vision had become keener in range perception. She looked across the board room, at the Dauntless Peeper and read the name off of the name tag. 'E. Coulter… Coulter… Coulter… Coulter… The name sounds somewhat fam…'
Her memory bank released a small deposit in the form of an image of herself, in front of her mother's free-standing mirror and staring at her reflection. She recalled wearing a black, cocktail dress that ran to the middle of her thighs and there was a black lace, boat neck collar. She remembered that the younger version of herself believed that she looked sexy in her dress. An image of her dancing with Malachi in Leader Franklin's living room.
'Same dress. Same dress. Coulter. Coulter. Coulter. Leadership. Frank— Shit, I remember! I remember!' Nasira unleashed an involuntary squeak of glee. She rapidly scanned the room to make sure that she didn't draw attention to herself. No one was staring at her except for the young leader. 'The same one who was the last one to become established before my dad died. That's why I didn't remember him right away.'
Fifteen minutes later, the meeting was adjourned after an hour and forty-five minutes had gone by. Both Patrick and Nasira remained rooted in their spots as the Erudite people and the Dauntless underlings gathered their belongings. As she stood there, she took that opportunity to search for E. Coulter. She caught a glimpse of him before his sight was swallowed up by other large-statured men in black.
"Most of the people are gone. I think we…" She looked to Patrick, who continued talking. "…could start dismantling this stuff now." She watched him make a few steps towards the table before she joined him. Both technicians began their process. There was silence between them as they powered down the equipment. "That was an interesting meeting," he declared as he pulled a USB plug out of the laptop.
Nasira skimmed his face, did a polite giggle and then mumbled a "Yeah, it was". She didn't even know what the meeting was about. She was too occupied staring down her superior.
"The thing about the divergents…"
Her hands stilled. The last circle of black cord that was around her fingers became loose. The thick, black cord that was being pinched by her right index finger and thumb became slack. With a heavy heart and cautious eyes, she stared at her crush as he talked.
"…Ms. Matthews seems like she knows what she is doing, when it comes to getting rid of them…"
Her brain did a mirthless laugh. 'Yeah, getting rid of them by putting a bullet in their heads.'
"…I hope she is able to solve the problem soon," Patrick stated wistfully.
'Ha-ha, no you really don't,' she said in her head.
Fortunately, Patrick kept his mouth shut and continued with the process. During the pregnant amount of silence, Nasira stayed in her subconscious. This time, she thought about Jeanine Matthews' efforts in eradicating the divergent population. She knew that the woman was a nutcase, who was slowly being driven into madness. She just hoped that the proper officials would catch on to this before she manipulated them into murdering a special demographic of citizens.
"Oh shit, I just realized that you're still here."
Patrick's voice pulled her out of her thoughts once again. She glanced at him. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, you came up here to help me and now you're helping me again, when you don't have to," he explained.
"No I don't mind helping you. It keeps me out of the office anyway," she offered.
"What about your lunch break?"
"Rafe sent one of his minions to the cafeteria to bring me up here. Sooo, there was no lunch for me today," she informed him. Patrick stood upright and his movement caught Nasira's attention. She glanced at him. She took note of the look on his face. To her, he held a look of disappointment.
"Aww man, Meek, he shouldn't have made you come here…" He placed a hand on her left shoulder. "… I would've eventually found the problem for this."
"Now you know that I couldn't say 'no' to him," she explained. "He would've chewed my ass out and then would spend the next two years tormenting my ass with tasks and assignments. Don't worry about me. I have a few of those breakfast bars and a bottle of water in my drawer." She waved her hand in front of them. "It's nothing. I'll be alright."
In an unexpected but very welcomed action, Patrick drew her into his personal space and wrapped his thick arms around her, for a hug. The sudden action caused her body to become rigid for a second, but once she realized it was just a hug, she relaxed against him. Her own arms slipped from in between their bodies and wrapped around his waist. The left side of her face pressed itself a little deeper into his chest while a deeper smile was embedded into her face. She took a strong whiff of his shirt and was greeted with a melody of fragrances: a blend of woodsy-floral cologne, his natural musky scent and the faint grain of the clothes cleanser that was lace on his buttoned-down shirt. Her hands and fingers memorized the way his back felt, the hardness of his muscles and bones. He was built for this faction, but his soul and spirit was pure Abnegation, the qualities that made him attractive.
"I do really-really-really appreciate the fact that you're still helping me out, Meek…"
Nasira cringed inwardly, when she heard the unwanted nickname, this time. This was the third time so far. 'I really gotta tell him to call me by my first name.'
"…I know that if it was another tech, they would've rolled out of here at the first chance."
"Even if it was another person, they couldn't leave anyway. It was a Dauntless leader that told me to stay and like with Rafe, I couldn't defy him. Cause if I did, my ass would've been factionless by tonight and I would've been fighting another dude for a can of baked beans somewhere," she jested. Both hugging technicians laughed. They casually parted from each other as their laughter slowly died out.
Once apart, Nasira's dark brown orbs did a full sweep of the conference room. She noticed the room was emptied of Erudites, except for three. Two members of the faction of knowledge were standing in the back of the room, near another exit while waiting for their compatriot. The lagging third member was standing in close proximity of three Dauntless members. The four men were engaged in a conversation. The small party included the gazing, young Dauntless leader E. Coulter. The same person who was currently eying Nasira.
'Fuck,' she muttered in her head. She quickly turned her attention back to Patrick, who was oblivious to the situation, because he was preoccupied with dismantling projector parts. With a lick of her bottom lip and a thin smirk, she resumed helping him. Even as she wrapped cords and stacked parts, she felt the azure-eyed glowering. 'What-the-fuck did I do to him?!'
"You know…" Patrick started out with, using a conspiratorial tone, "… I was planning on leaving out as soon as you were finished with the projector". He had shown off one of his beautiful smiles. "I was hoping that I could leave early for lunch, so I could meet up with my girl…"
'My girl…'
'My girl...'
'My girl...'
Her brain replayed his words numerous times. It was as if she didn't believe those words actually spilled from his plump lips. With every passing recitation, the truth kept seeping into her consciousness. Her stomach quivered while the disappointment settled in.
"… She is working a 'nine-to-five' shift today and she has lunch at three today. I wanted to go and buy her flowers or something nice like that…" He gave her left arm a playful pat. "Hey, have you met my girlfriend? I'm sure you know her. She's kind of well-known around here, after all, she is one of the doctors for the clinic. Anissa Howard…"
'Anissa Howard? Yes, I know that bit—Woman.' Immediately, her brain conjured up a mental image that belonged to Patrick's girlfriend. She was an Erudite transfer, four years before Nasira's initiation. She was urgent care physician in their faction's infirmary, but she did traveled to different factions to treat people as well. Nasira didn't know much about her personal character because both women did not share any mutual friends or acquaintances. The only thing that she did know was the fact that Anissa was a very attractive woman with her exotic physical looks: olive complexion, wavy brown hair that hung low, a pair of brown-copper hued irises that were set in almond-shaped eyes, high cheekbones that were defined and a pouty mouth that were framed by a heart-shaped face. She was blessed with a five feet-five inch curvy-toned figure that made all of the men with a pulse ogle. 'Shit, this shouldn't surprise me at all.'
"…she works in the clinic, but she will be taking some time off to help train the initiates, a few months from now. She—
"Yeah, I know her," Nasira unintentionally barked. She inwardly cringed at her abrupt display of bitterness.
"Oh… Okay, well—
She stopped working. She glanced at her colleague and then noticed the glimpse of curiosity that he was gifting her. "Patrick, why don't you go on and meet up with your girlfriend? I'll…"
"Meek, are you sure? 'Cause, I don't want you to—
"…clean—No, I'm okay! I don't have much to do and I have the cart-thingy to use…" she explained. She did a nonchalant wave in the air. "…So go on and have fun with your girlfriend."
Patrick smiled at her. His toothy smile didn't cause the typical physical manifestations in her anymore.
His right hand approached her left shoulder once more, in a friendly pat. "Thank you so much, Meek!"
A forced smile crawled upon her face. "You're welcome, Patrick!"
"I'll see you later!" he announced before making a happy exit out of the room.
Nasira gave the doors another glance before she returned to her tasks. She carried several items over to the rolling cart.
"Excuse me?"
She knew that the statement was addressed to her, so she stopped working once again. She looked away from the table and at the person who called for her. He stood a few feet away, on the other side of the table. The caller was the Erudite man that was lagging behind. He was middle-aged man, if she had to guess he was around her parents' ages. His light brown hair was carefully styled and his greying temples were handled as well. His fair skin held a healthy sheen. Like most men from that faction, he was dressed stylishly, and of course, in blue. He wore a navy blue three-piece suit that was tailored for his tall and broad form. She noticed that he wore weight well. He wasn't as buff as a typical Dauntless man, but he did exude strength. Once she eyed the extravagant-looking, gold pin on his left lapel, she understood. 'He's a leader. That's why those Erudites were comfortable enough to come here. It also explains why that bottle-blonde, crazy-eyed bitch wasn't here.'
"Yes, sir?" she greeted him, with a cautious smile that was reserved for strangers. She strolled over to the man.
"Are you Davina's and Goliath's daughter?" the Erudite leader inquired.
'How does he know?' Her eyes widened. Her reaction caused the man to chuckle. "Yes, yes sir, I am." Her eyes did a fast scan at the three men that stood a few feet behind him. The three Dauntless figures were now focused on them. Nothing gathered the faction members' attentions quicker than the mentions of her parents' names, especially her father's. She stared up at the man again.
The gentleman held his left hand close to his right breast pocket before spoke again. "You most likely don't remember me at all. The last time I saw you, you were…" The same hand made a gesture to illustrate how small she was at that time. "…this high and you were barely three years old," he informed her. His eyes did a brief widening while his mouth did an 'o'. "I am so sorry for being rude. I had forgotten to introduce myself." He extended his left hand in front of him for Nasira to shake. "My name is Lysander Mott, I am one of the leaders for—
"Erudite," she blurted out. She pointed to his blazer while she shook his hand. "The suit's color gives it away," she explained while a light giggle was attached to her statement.
Lysander glimpsed down at his chest before chuckling himself. "Well, yes, it does give me away."
"Sssoooo, you knew my dad?" she stated as their hands mutually departed.
The Erudite leader shook his head. "Yes, and I know your mom too. We grew up together— Well, not 'together' together ever since I was raised in Erudite, your mom was raised in Amity and your father was a Dauntless-born. But we've known each other since we were kids because we all were in the same schools and the same classes. We even managed to stay friends even after our initiations. Our friendships were not as strong anymore once we all started our families, but we did keep in contact. With your parents, it was especially easy due to their titles…" He suddenly chuckled. His eyes displayed a healthy sheen and warmth in them. "I remember when your dad had to bring you to a factions' leaders meeting, because they couldn't find a sitter for you. You managed to sneak into the board room and you hid underneath the table, making animal noises…"
Even though she couldn't remember the moment, she just knew that the event did occur. It definitely sounded like something she would do.
"…How is your mother?"
Nasira was grateful for Lysander's inquiry because it gave her a distraction from the dark emotion that was rising to the surface. She didn't want to remember her father because it would've led to the memories of the night that he was taken from her. "She's fine. She is still doing her job as if she just got it yesterday. She's… uh… had a few setbacks—
A look of concern morphed Lysander's facial features. "Oh no, I hope that everything is alright now," he softly stated.
She nodded her head. "Yeah, she's alright now. It was, um…" She lightly scratched the back of her neck. "…it was ovarian cancer. But, she's fine now and is in remission. She has been in remission since November of last year."
He committed a deep inhale and a soft exhale. "That's good. That's very good for her and for all of you," he sighed. "I haven't seen her in a while now, since I've been busy with this 'divergent-thing'…"
'There goes that word again.'
"…and with Ms. Matthews' side projects. Hopefully, I will be seeing her at the Diplomatic Banquet, next month. I know that she goes every year. Will you be attending the dinner this year?" asked Lysander.
'Oh goodness no! I would rather eat glass.'
"Probably not," was Nasira's most diplomatic answer. "Normally, I'll be working on that night, ever since it is one of the most popular days which mostly everybody takes off, besides Christmas. Besides, my brother Rogue always takes her to that shindig, as her date."
"Awww, it would be a shame if you don't attend this year. I remember when you and your friend did that little dance that one year. It was… entertaining, to say the least," he pointed out.
More memories bubbled up to the surface, for Nasira. The event that Lysander had brought up was the first one. She was a few months shy of turning sixteen years old, the sign that she was eligible for the Choosing Ceremony. So, she wanted to spend her last six months in Dauntless living her life like a faction member, which meant being fearless and brave. She knew that she was going to transfer to Amity, so she wanted to leave a lasting impression. One of the actions she chose to commit was performing a choreographed dance with her best friend Malachi, another Dauntless-born who was going to transfer out. Both teens were avid followers of the American culture, the one that occurred hundreds of years before the war. Especially, the music and the dances that were born from those years. At the Diplomatic Banquet, they chose to perform dances from the 1940's 'Big Band era', which was something that wasn't well-known amongst the current society.
She remembered the exhilarating feelings that she felt running through her body as she danced. She recalled the expressions of other guests' faces as they watched the two teens in stylish, black formal wear danced. For her, this action was reckless and unbridled. Since the age of adolescence, she was overbearingly instructed to not to stick out and to blend into society. For that night, she was rebellious.
Nasira smiled warmly as the memories floated through her head. "Thank you. It was a wonderful night for me."
Lysander smiled as well. "Well, I have to leave and go back to my faction now," he announced. He rolled his eyes. "Work and duty calls, you know."
She giggled. "It's been nice talking to you, Mr. Mott."
"It's been wonderful to speak to you and to see you again, Nasira." Once again, he shook her hand. "May you please tell your mother that I said 'hello'?"
"Yes, I will tell her," she said with a nod of her head. "Have a good day, Mr. Mott," she said to him as their hands separated.
"You too, Miss Grant." His eyelids fluttered and let out an un-gentlemanly huff. "I just called you 'Miss Grant' right now and I just realized that I am old."
Nasira laughed. "Goodbye, Mr. Mott."
Lysander Mott gave her a quick farewell and then he re-joined the Dauntless leaders. She returned to her task, which was restoring all of the equipment back on the rolling cart. Her attention did turn back to the men, when she saw them leave out of the conference room. 'Now I'm all alone,' she said to herself.
She was in the process of placing a rolled up USB cord on the cart, when she heard the sound of the door opening. She glanced over her right shoulder to see the new visitor. Her chestnut brown-colored eyes ended up meeting a pair of blue ones. 'Oh,' her brain whimpered. She turned her body away from the cart. Her spine aligned itself straighter and her shoulders unintentionally grew straighter while a level of rigidity permeated through the rest of her body. Her reaction, she knew, was normal. After all, it was a lesson of etiquette that was engrained in her by her parents. Then, when she was an initiate going through her initiation process, it was reinforced by the trainers, so the kids would know what to do when a faction leader entered the room.
She silently calculated that he was, at least, twelve feet away from where she was standing. He was closest to the other end of the long conference table while she was closest to the pair of conference room doors, the ones that she walked through earlier. She figured that she was lighter than him and much quicker, so she had the opportunity to escape this room, if she needed to leave. Her eyes did a rapid perusal of his physique, starting from his aquiline nose down to his hidden groin. 'If I can't get away then I'll have to go for the throat and then the eyes. He'll more likely think that I will go for his dick first. Yeah, the eyes will work.'
"G-Good afternoon, Sir," she greeted him. She forced her tone of voice to go soft and to sound less confident. It was the same tone that she used, whenever she had to deal with Rafe or anybody else that held a higher role than hers. From when she was a child, she learned that the meek and humbled façade worked better than her normal behavior, for some interactions. Especially, if those interactions were with egotistical authority figures.
"Good afternoon, ma'am," the young faction leader responded. He sounded polite, but she knew it was a ruse.
'He's probably this way with old ladies before he drags into dark alleyways and mug them.' A weak smile graced her lips as she eyed him. He continued to remain rooted in his spot. His eyes were focused on her. He kept his hands behind his back as if he wanted her to believe that he could've been hiding something. She waited for the leader and serial eye-fucker to state his purpose for being in the conference room. 'Okay, so what do you want, cupcake?' When a pregnant amount of awkward silence between the two had passed, she figured that he was there to oversee. So she had gone back to working.
"Excuse me…"
Nasira flashed her eyes on him.
"…I'm sorry for interrupting…" His eyes did a quick two-step dance between her face and her hands. "…your work. My name…"
"Please allow me to introduce myself…"
The sung words were only in her mind, but it was so clear that it could've been playing in real life. She was familiar with the song. It was by a band that were very popular, hundreds of years ago, called The Rolling Stones. It was a song that her late father used to immensely enjoy listening to, almost every day of his life. She didn't understand why she had this particular earworm.
"…is Eric Coulter and I am—
"I know who you are," she blurted out. She took note of the confidence in her voice. 'Easy,' her conscience warned in the form of a growl. She even saw the flash of a warning in his cerulean eyes, as well as, his irritation for interrupting him. "I-I'm sorry for interrupting you," she said softly, returning to her 'Meek the Mouse' persona. "I-I remember who you are. I had gone to your matriculation dinner, for when you were given the role as…leader."
"Earned," he pronounced with a slight snarl to his top lip.
Her eyes widened while a cloud of confusion covered them. "I'm sorry?"
"You said that I was given my role as leader. You're incorrect. I earned my title," he explained.
Nasira resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. 'Given… Earned. It doesn't fucking matter at this point. I say 'tomato'. You say 'toe-mott-toe'. Like I said…' She licked her bottom lip, in an absent-minded way. "I was at your matriculation dinner with my parents…and my uncle, Xerxes," she informed him. She wanted Eric to know about her special connection to this faction, in case he thought that he could lay his meaty paws on her without dealing with any repercussions.
Eric chuckled and then bowed his head a little. For a second, she believed that he was aware of her intentions behind the name-dropping act. He stopped laughing as he lifted his head. "I know who your parents are," he educated her. "Your mother is this faction's Diplomatic Allegiant Supreme, the highest ranking ambassador that this faction has. Your late father was our faction's leader of defense. In fact…" He made several long strides in her direction. "… I know your entire family history. After all, it is a part of our faction's history and we all must learn it. I know that you and your brothers are the direct descendants of one of our faction's founding fathers, January Grant the First. I also know that Max is another." He made a pair of methodical steps, once again in the same direction. His eyes were focused on her. Nasira saw the malevolent amusement in them. "I also know a few personal things about you too."
The statement caused her curiosity to become aroused. Totally forgetting about her act of being meek, she questioned him. "Like?"
A smile grew on his face and it caused her skin to pucker. "I know that when you were an initiate, your final place setting was in the twentieth spot. You barely passed the initiation process even though you were fully equipped to take the top spot, if you wanted to. You had the natural capability to become a leader like your father. Or, to become an ambassador like your mother. After all, you're capable of altering your character in order to please people and make them comfortable…" He removed his left hand from around his back. His hand gestured towards her. "…Like the act that you were doing just now…"
'Shit... Son-of a-bitch!'
"…But instead, you chose to be an... IT technician, which is one step above the role of a lowly servant. Hell…" Eric looked to his left and then his right before going back to staring at her. "…you could've picked working in the Control Room. But you've chosen to spend the rest of your life fixing projectors..." His right hand gestured to the machine that was on the conference table. "...fixing copy machines and sitting in a cubicle for the rest of your life…" He approached a chair that was tucked in. He pulled the chair out and arrogantly sat down. "…I also know that you're called 'Meek the Mouse' by the other faction members, because of your introvert attitude. You're consider to be a defect around here. 'You're not Dauntless.' That's what they say, right? You don't hang out with other members. You're quiet and you keep to yourself. You don't have any piercings or tattoos. Is that right?"
Her anger was burning a hole into the pit of her stomach. She so desperately wanted to tell this egotistical prick where he could take his assessment and go. Instead, her fists clenched tightly. Her eyes did a glimpse at the doors again.
"You don't have to worry about me."
Nasira glared at him.
"I'm not here to hurt you," he explained to her. "And if I did…" His hands moved to rest against the back of his head. "…wanted to hurt you, I could." He leaned his chair back. "There's another thing that I know about you."
"Oh really, what's this one thing, darling?" she muttered with a snarky energy attached to it.
A smug chortle came from his lips. His left index finger pointed at her. She wanted to break it. "You… You have your eye out for a certain fellow…"
'Patrick…' Suddenly, a clear resolution to her earlier problem finally reached her. He wasn't staring at her during the meeting. He was focused on Patrick.
"…a certain IT person that used to work in the Control Room until he was transferred…"
Her brow crumpled up in confusion. 'What does he want from me?'
"… Am I right?" he said with a small grin.
"What do you want from me?" she asked with a nonchalant lilt to her voice. She appeared calm but she wasn't. She was fed up with Eric's game.
He made a grunt. "What makes you think that I want something?"
'Okay, so if this fucker wants to play head games with me, then it's my turn.' Nasira sighed. She walked over to the table, where she casually leaned against the edge. Her arms crossed under her chest. "Because you've never spoken to me before, a lowly IT tech person that is one step away from being a lowly servant..." She glimpsed at him and saw the glare of indignation in his eyes. "...You've never actively sought me out before this moment. And judging by the reputation that you have, it's safe to say that you're not the type to personally seek anybody out anyway. It's an action that you consider to be beneath you. Then there's the fact that you kept staring at Patrick during your meeting, as if you wanted to rip his head off…" She stared straight ahead, at the doors. The corners of her lips turned upwards to form a smile. "…and that doesn't make any sense to me. So, I've been thinking about it. Of course, you probably couldn't tell because you were in the process of stroking your own…Ego, to notice me. I've been thinking—
"About what?" His voice was calm, but it held a noticeable level of coldness. The tone caused Nasira to doubt her impending actions, for a second. It caused her to acknowledge the fact that she didn't know how he would react.
She glanced at him. His gaze was steady and heavy as he surveyed her. Weirdly, the gaze caused her to go forward. "I began thinking about why you don't like Patrick. Why would…" She changed her position. She moved to sit on the table and she tucked her right foot underneath her left thigh and had her right leg bent at the knee. She was now facing her leader full-on. "…someone, who holds a highly-respected title in our faction, dislike this one lowly IT guy?" Her vision landed on his hands. They were gripping the chair's armrests in a tight fashion. She eyed his jawline and took note of the multiple twitches that his jawbone made. He was angry. She proceeded with glee. "Then I understood—
"What?" Again, there was that tone in his voice.
Nasira crossed her arms. "He has something that you want. Then I thought of the type of stuff that he could have that you would want, but then I realize that your salary is wwwwwaaaaayyyy more than Patrick's and mine's combined. And then it hit me: love. He has love..." Her face slightly frowned up. "...Well, he has a particular woman, actually…A woman that you want for yourself..." She observed his reaction. He confirmed her theory by glancing at the windows, a sign of guilt. Her spirit smiled. "This chick? Her name is Anissa Howard?" Then she decided to throw his words back at him. "Am I right?"
Instead of answering her, whether by his words or by his glares or even with his fists, the young leader remained silent. Well, for a moment.
"For someone who is from Dauntless…" His face did a turn so quickly, she was sure that he was going to suffer from a sore neck later on. "…you sure do exhibit Erudite qualities…" A cruel smile formed on his lips while a light danced away in his eyes. "…and Amity qualities, as well as, Abnegation."
Her anger rose as she understood the silent implication of his words. He was lowkey calling her a divergent.
"What did you get on your aptitude test?" he questioned.
'It's none of your damn business,' was her silent admission. "Nothing," she answered through her clenched jaw. She didn't want to have this conversation with him. Nasira was aware that this would bring back some awful memories. She didn't want to go there with him, especially him. But she was aware that this Dauntless transfer would take her there while she proverbially kicked and screamed.
"Nothing?" He smiled. "Bullshit," he spewed. "As your leader, I demand that you tell me about your results."
Nasira turned her attention to the doors. Her ears picked up the sound of a chair's hinges squeaking. Before her body could make an appropriate reaction, she felt his heated, callused hand on her neck and his body heat pressed against her front. Her hands immediately wrapped around the wrist that was connected to the offending hand. Her startled eyes focused on his face, which was a few centimeters apart from hers.
"Tell me about your test results," he said slowly and calmly. She felt as if she was a dumb child who was being scolded by her mother.
"I don't have any test re—
Her statement was cut off by his growl-like groan. She knew it was a warning call. His hand's grip tightened around her throat. Her eyes bulged in their sockets while a strangled cry escaped from her parted lips. She felt her esophagus fold under the pressure.
With a voice that was strained and hoarse, she cried out "Will you fucking listen to me?! I don't have a test result because I've never taken the damn test, that's why! It was on the day before, when I was in my accident! On the day of the aptitude testing, I was laid up in an Erudite hospital after going through eight hours of surgery, just so my fucking skull wouldn't fall apart on me and to keep my knee from being fucked up for the rest of my life! You should fucking know this! After all, you know everything about me and my family, ol' fearless leader!" She was well aware of her brazen act of disrespect towards the faction leader, as she spoke. She just didn't care at the moment. She expected for Eric to remove himself from her personal space, but he remained there. So she gave him some inspiration to move by shoving his chest. Her actions didn't make an impact. His hand still remained on her throat while he still occupied her personal bubble.
"Careful," he growled. "You just assaulted a leader, who is also an acting officer—
She snorted in disbelief. Then she chuckled. "You're standing in between my legs, practically about to step a foot pass my cervix and you have your sweaty-ass paw around my throat. The most a Candor judge would say about this situation is that you were about to rape me…" She saw the expression of disgust cross his face. "…or we were about to engage in a case of rough sex in a public setting. Now if you don't want to experience that, then I advise you to…" She shoved at him again. "…get off of me!" She witnessed the backward motions that his feet made after the push. His hand unleashed her throat. Her hands automatically surveyed the potential damage. Her eyes stayed on him. "Now tell me what do you want from me, Eric?"
He regained his steely composure. He crossed his brawny arms over his broad chest. "You're gonna help me with something…"
*~oMLo~*
As Nasira walked down the corridors that led to the leaders' office-suites, she continued to think about Eric and his actions that occurred within this past year and a half.
Eventually she learned that Eric Coulter was carrying out an affair with Anissa, Patrick's girlfriend, an assumption that was formed on the day of that board meeting. Using the wee hours of the mornings, her lunch breaks, lies and manipulated circumstances, they were together for the past four years. For whatever reasons, Eric came to the decision that he wanted Anissa for himself only. He "claimed" that he chosen the "honorable way" of trying to have her end her relationship, at first: he expressed his love to her and his desire to be with her, as well as, given her an ultimatum. She refused to end her relationship with Patrick, but she did express her love for Eric. He also "claimed" that he did follow through with his end of the ultimatum, which was severing all forms of contact with Anissa. He only lasted for about a month before he had gone back. For three extra years, the leader played by her rules and now he was back to wanting her to be his 'one and only'. Or rather, for Eric to be Anissa's 'one and only'.
Now Eric had the desire to be the one factor that would end the relationship between Patrick and Anissa. But he didn't want to be the one who had his hands dirty, because it would reflect poorly on him. He needed to keep up with the appearance of being an intimidating and fearless leader. The last thing that he wanted was for the faction's population to think of him as being a love-struck fool, who might be incapable of keeping his emotions in check. Eric was aware that Anissa wasn't going to be the person to pull the trigger, which was terminating the relationship. The Dauntless faction leader figured it had to be Patrick. He wanted the overgrown Abnegation-raised, bumbling idiot to be the one to destroy it. However, he didn't know how to make that one thing happen. He thought up a couple of ideas, but all of which would reveal his involvement in the matter. It wasn't until that meeting with Erudite, on that particular day, when a new plan was born. He claimed that it was born at the moment, when he surveyed Nasira as she stared at Patrick during the presentation.
The plan was for Nasira to seduce Patrick to the point where he was amicable to all of her whims, one of which included the termination of his relationship with Anissa. Eric assumed that Anissa would want to pursue a relationship with him, by this point. Meanwhile Nasira would have Patrick, her crush, all to herself.
Once she heard Eric's plan, she automatically thought it was a bad idea. Nasira thought "Dauntless' most feared leader" was behaving like a weak-minded idiot, who was about to unleased a shit-load of strife within the faction because he wanted an over-glorified, Dauntless meat-trap. And she told exactly how she felt about his plan. Then, she made the mistake of allowing Eric to 'convince' her to participate in his plan.
According to him, Patrick was already feeling the attraction for Nasira, judging by his willingness to place her in hugs and to touch her. All she had to do was stroke those fires a little bit more. Plus, he managed to appeal to her by stating that Anissa deserved to be with a man that was more compatible to her. That one point served as a driving point for her choice in helping Eric.
Patrick did deserve to be with someone better while Anissa deserved to be with Eric, ever since both of them were immoral, tasteless ass-bags.
'Well, you're no better,' her conscience pointed out.
Nasira snorted and then laughed. Her hands cupped the bottom of her protruding belly. "Well, I'm about to pay for my participation in about three more we— Aaaah-ah!" She came to a sudden stop after the first lash of pain had sliced through her gut. A shaky, full breath escaped her. 'Remember what the doctor told you… Braxton-Hicks contractions. They're not the real things. They happen all of the time,' her conscience reported. The pain diminished into a sense of discomfort. The throbbing sensation spread across her stomach to her hips and lower back. 'Make it over to that wall,' her conscience instructed. Her eyes darted over to the stoned wall that were a foot away. She waddled over and pressed her forehead against the smooth wall. 'God, this feels good across my skin,' she silently said to herself as she rubbed her skin against the cold wall. Her fingertips pressed firm circles into hips to alleviate the discomfort. Once the throbbing ebbed and her usual state of comfort returned, she released a hard exhale between her lips. Her hands did a full sweep of her belly. 'I'm almost there. In a few weeks, I'll be a mommy. I'll have him in my arms finally.' Her unborn son's father flashed across her mind's eye. 'Ugh, speaking of which…'
"Good morning," she greeted the secretary as she approached the woman's desk, fifteen minutes later.
"Good morning." The tone was flat and unenthusiastic.
Nasira couldn't tell if the woman didn't like her job or she just didn't like her. She stood there and gave a quick visual appraisal of Eric's assistant. Unlike the receptionist that sat at the desk in the front, this woman was dressed as if she was the assistant to a leader. She wore a silk, buttoned blouse that held ruffles on the front and a pair of black satin pants. Both were in all black of course. Her makeup was minimal: black lipstick and black eyeliner that highlighted her brown eyes. The abstract tattoo that covered her left temple and cheek made her skin appear paler. Her jet black hair was styled in a pixie cut.
"I am from the Software—
"I know where you're from," the secretary informed her. "Lucia from the front just called me."
Nasira's lips twitched. 'I see that a lot of rude people work in this part of—
"Besides, I was the one who called your department about the tablet," she further explained. "My boss' communication device has been giving him some trouble."
"I understand, Miss and I can ensure you that I will do my best to—
"I'm sure you will," she said in a cold tone, once again cutting Nasira off. "I'm also sure that you and your little department knows how imperative it is for my boss, your leader, to get this device back as soon as possible."
She nodded her head. "Yes, I do understand that this is very important. And he will get this device back… Before the end of today." She expressed herself with an equally cold tone. 'Lady, I don't have time for your bullshit. I am having mild pain. My kid's head keeps head-butting my cervix with every step I make and my ankles are sore.'
The secretary's onyx-painted lips created a smirk while her throat hummed out an "Mmm". Her eyes flickered over to the desk's phone and she did a glimpse before picking up the receiver. Her left index finger pressed several buttons from off the keypad.
'What-the-fuck is she doing now? Is she calling security on me?!'
Nasira received her answer, when the secretary spoke into the mouthpiece. "Good morning again Sir, please pardon my interruption. I have the person from the…" She paused. It was obvious that the person on the other end of the line was speaking. "Yes Sir… Okay, I'll let her know… Bye Sir." The secretary placed the receiver back on the cradle. She stared at Nasira. "My boss would like to speak to you."
"FFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKKK!' her brain wailed from the anguish it felt.
Nasira didn't even bother to refrain from closing her eyes and then grimacing, in reaction. She really hoped that this device retrieval process would've been easy. Most leaders would leave their broken devices with their assistants.
"Is there anything wrong, Miss?"
Nasira could hear the sickly sweetness in her tone. The bitch was enjoying this. She was enjoying watching her emotionally unravel.
The mom-to-be popped open her eyes and glanced at the woman. She quickly smoothed out her features. "No. I'm fine."
The secretary used her pen to point in the direction in which Nasira supposed to travel. The pregnant woman didn't bother to say anything else. She turned away from the sadistic bitch in black and walked in the direction in which Eric's office was located.
If Nasira had to describe Eric's office, then she would use the term 'funeral home chic'. It reminded her of a funeral home waiting area with its black marble walls, black marble flooring and black furniture.
"Pick up your feet."
She came to a stop and she glanced at her feet. The sounds of her chunky sneakers' soles were slapping up against the floor and causing echoes in his office. Her brain only acknowledged the sounds for a millisecond before he spoke.
Eric's tone reminded her of her father, when he used to scold her as a child. But unlike with her father's scolding, she did not feel embarrassed and regretful for making him angry. This time, she felt anger and a bit homicidal. 'I think that I can blame my hormones at my Candor, murder trial.' Nasira methodically strolled up to the front of his desk and stood there. She detected that her thirty-seventh week old belly was hovering over his desk and was on the verge of knocking over the few items that he kept on the surface. Her eyes did a subtle observation of her stomach before she had taken a gander at Eric. Even from where he sat and from where she stood, she felt the aura of power that spilled from him. He treated his rolling executive chair like it was a throne. To the naïve eye, he looked relaxed. But she knew better. He was far from being relaxed. Judging from the tightness and the twitching from his quadriceps, he was ready to make a move, if he needed to make one. 'Why would he…? You know what, just be professional towards him and see what he wants.'
Nasira made a smile that never reached her eyes. "Good morning, Sir. I am from—
"I know what you're here for," he told her, cutting her off.
It was a simple motion, but it left an impact: a fluttering sensation in her stomach, near her navel. She believed that Eric's voice encouraged her son to start moving. A low sigh fell from her mouth. Her left hand trembled while it hang by her side, an action that kept her from touching her stomach. She didn't want to draw any more attention to her belly.
"From my understanding, it is your tablet that is giving you problems? Is that correct?" she asked him. Her voice was steady even though her insides felt shakier than an earthquake, courtesy of her son.
"Yes," he curtly stated. His right hand opened a desk drawer and he dug through the contents. "It's not working." As he stared at his probing hand's actions, he didn't notice his guest's shifting.
Nasira shifted her weight between both of her feet, nervously. Her son decided to use this moment to try to get comfortable in her womb. In the process, the unborn child was given his mother consistent abdominal and rib discomfort. Her eyes did a rapid surveillance of her stomach. She spotted an abnormal lump on her left side. 'Alright buddy, you are really showing out to—Fuck, that one hurt!' A low hiss escaped from her lips just as tremor of pain broke out on her left flank. Her right hand reached across the bulge and her fingers tended to the sore spot. Her fingers rubbed at the spot, in hopes of trying to convince her baby to move.
"Problem?"
She looked away from her stomach and gazed into the Dauntless leader's eyes. He was back in his comfortable pose, except he held a device in his hand. 'Your son decided to be a comedian right now,' she thought. But she said, "No problem at all, Sir".
A small smile shown up on his face, in response. His hand presented the device to her. "Here it is," he simply stated. "I expect for this device to be return to me before I leave this office today."
Nasira leaned a little towards the desk in order to grab the tablet from him. Eric gave the item up without a problem. The glint in his eyes, however, told her that he was about to engage in some mischief. She tucked the device underneath her left arm.
"Now that we have that bit of business out of the way, let's…Talk," he proposed.
A wave of dread filled her up. A knot lodged itself into her throat while her mouth found difficulty to remain moist. "What do you want to talk about?" she asked while staring dumbly at him.
Eric propped his left elbow on the desktop and brought his left hand to his chin. His amusement was evident. "Nasira, please don't put on the dumb act. You know what I want to talk about."
"Then we have nothing to talk about," she informed him with a more confident voice.
His left eyebrow twitched. His lips smirked. "We have nothing to talk about?"
'Damn straight! This is my son!' She shook her head. "We have nothing else to talk about, Sir."
Eric didn't speak immediately. He just stared at her. For Nasira, she was sure that he was attempting to intimidate her. He wanted her to confess about her baby's paternity. After a solid minute of silence between the two, he gruffly sighed. He removed his hand from his chin and then he leaned his upper body forward. "Let's get to the point, shall we? This child? Is it mine?"
"No," she blurted out.
"That was too quick," he told her with pursed lips. He was taunting her.
'I don't care.' Nasira was fed up. She sighed and gave him a deadpanned glance. "Do you need anything else, Sir?"
Once again, he just stared at her. "Are you sure that you want to take this route?"
She sensed the implied threat. She really wanted to beat the shit out of him. She glimpsed at the ceiling and then at her leader again. "When it comes to this baby…" She cradled her stomach in her hands for emphasis. His eyes tracked the movements. "…right here, he is mine. This is my baby! My son!" she growled, a sign that her maternal instinct to protect her baby was on full display. "You want an answer? Fine, here's one: You're not his father. So you can stop losing any sleep over it. Besides…" She had taken a few steps away from his desk. "…Your bull wasn't the only one that visited my stable." She watched his face crumpled with confusion. Rather than explaining her statement's meaning, she chosen to allow his natural Erudite talent for logic to do it for him. "Is there anything else that you need...sir?" she repeated, a sign that their previous conversation was over.
"No. You can leave," he announced after making her become a victim to another one of his gazes.
'Thank the Lord!'
She gave Eric another glimpse and then she headed to the office's door. Just when she was about to enter her salvation which was on the other side, he called out for her.
"Nasira."
She paused. A huff and an eye roll later, she turned around. She saw that he was still seated. He was also giving her one of his soul-penetrating stares.
"Eventually, I will find out the truth. All I have to do is wait…" His head slightly tilted to the right and his eyes focused on the huge mound that she was carrying. "…maybe a few more weeks?"
Nasira's only response was leaving his office.