The Meek Shall Inherit

by MimiLuvs16

Nasira Grant, a natural born member of the Dauntless faction, appears to be the least expected member of the faction. She's an introvert, who prefers the grand silent halls of libraries instead of sparring rooms. It has earn her the nickname "Meek the Mouse". So what happens when she is involved in a 'love square' with a Dauntless leader? COMPLETE

2. Chapter 2

*~oMLo~*

'I had to deal with one jackass already, so let's deal with the other five!'

Nasira's left thumb pressed the smooth plastic button that was the doorbell and then waited on the doorstep that led to her mother's lavish apartment. She didn't have to wait too long because less than fifteen seconds, the front door opened to reveal her younger brother, Rogue.

"Well if it's not my favorite big sister!" he cheerily greeted.

"I'm your only—

She was swallowed up in his embrace. Her front was pushed up against his muscled torso.

"Rogue!" she screamed into his chest as she forcefully inhaled the fumes of his cologne. Her hands frantically slapped at his ribs. "Let m—

"Dante and Trudy are here with the baby," he blurted out in a hushed tone to her hairline.

Her hands stopped hitting him and she stopped struggling. 'SssshhhhHHHIT!' her brain hissed harshly.

"Mama told him about… You, already. He's pissed to the highest power. She told him to not to say anything to you because it wasn't his business. She told him that it is up to you to provide him any info about the baby," he informed his sister. "You don't have nothing to worry about. I got your back. If push comes to shove, then I'll punch that old geezer in his bad back anyway. I will—

"Rogue! Nasira!"

Both brother and sister abruptly separated and then glanced behind them, into the apartment. Each pair of eyes spotted the older woman standing in the doorway. She had her hands on her hips and a look of chastisement on her face.

"If you don't get out of that doorway—

"Sorry, Mama!"

"Sorry, Mommy!"

Both siblings apologized simultaneously to their mother before they entered the foyer of the apartment. Rogue walked up to their mother while Nasira closed the front door. The harsh expression disappeared from her mother's face as she waddled up to the Grant matriarch. It was replaced with a look of pleasant emotions.

"Look at you!" her mother swooned as she gazed at her only daughter. Her hands were reaching for Nasira. "You've gotten so… BIG!"

"Mama!" Rogue shrieked in mild horror from their mother's social faux pas. "I'm not a woman and even I know not to call a pregnant woman 'big'!"

Mrs. Grant playfully smacked her son's brawny arm. "She knows what I mean!" She turned back to her daughter. "Oh, I didn't know that you were going to be showing so much by now! Oooh, this baby is going to be huge! He's going to be like all of y'all!" The woman shook her head and hummed a sound of pity. "Your poor vagina."

Both Rogue and Nasira gifted their mother with horrified glares.

"What?!" The Grant matriarch glimpsed at both of her children. "It's true! All of y'all weighed a ton and had those melon-sized noggins, when y'all were born! I remember screaming bloody murder at each birth because it was so painful! People used to tell me that 'us, mothers' would forget about the pain, once we see our babies for the first time… Yeah right! My vagina was like—

"Mommy!"

"Mama!"

Both kids shouted, their voices echoing off the walls.

In the corner of her eye, Nasira noticed a large figure step into the corridor that was attached to the foyer, right behind her mother.

"Mama, is everything alright?"

Dante's natural baritone voice penetrated the atmosphere, bringing a sense of tension along with it. Soon, his bulky six-foot-five inch frame entered the foyer. Nasira noticed the look of paternal authority that was etched into his typical handsome face and how it was aimed towards her.

"Nasira," he greeted.

Her own face morphed into an expression of contempt. "Dante."

Mrs. Grant stared at Dante and Nasira. "Oh, you two stop it!" she warned. "We are here to celebrate and both of you won't ruin it by acting like two stubborn, insubordinate asses!"

Rogue grimaced. "Ooh, Mama's angry! She's breaking out the big words and everything!"

"Rogue, hush!" their mother scolded. She addressed all three of her children with a "By the way, dinner is ready!" before leaving the foyer.

The youngest Grant sibling glanced at both of his older ones. "You heard what Mama said: Behave!" he mock chastised the both of them. Then he proceeded to walk out of the room.

"Boy, if you don't get cha ass out…" Dante groaned as he followed his younger brother.

Nasira watched her two brothers do a friendly sparring session as they traveled to the dining room. 'Please let that be the only fighting that goes on for tonight.'

Unfortunately for her, good luck continued to evade her, despite being in a festive environment. Her mother, with the help of Dante and his wife, made a banquet-like feast for tonight's dinner. For a pregnant Nasira and her greedy five brothers, this was a scene from a dream. As they ate plates of food, she managed to reconnect with her brothers Trigger, Samson, Goliath the Second and Rogue, all Dauntless members but with very prominent roles in the defense department. She managed to interact with her sister-in-law Trudy and her eighteen month-old niece, Nova. She even managed to down two servings of food before the level of good vibes had gone to shit, for the rest of the evening.

"So, when are we going to meet your boyfriend, Nassy?" Samson inquired.

"Here we go," mumbled Rogue, under his breath while holding his wine glass.

"Sammy, allow your sister to eat in peace," Mrs. Grant told her second oldest son.

"Mama, he has a point," Dante pointed out.

Trudy placed a soft hand on her husband's right forearm. "Honey," she said softly, warning him.

Samson disregarded their mother's suggestion. After filling his glass with wine, he said "Does he live within our faction? Is this why we haven't met him already?"

"Of course he lives in our faction! It's against the rules to be with a person from another faction," Rogue pointed out while discreetly eyeing his eldest brother's face.

"That's not what I've heard," mumbled Dante as he sawed a piece of grilled chicken with a knife, from his plate.

Nasira's dark brown eyes narrowed as she glared at her oldest brother.

When their sister didn't answer any of his inquiries, Samson hummed an "Hmmm?"

To diffuse an already escalating hostile situation, their mother looked at Samson. "Sammy, she will bring him around when she's good and ready… Now finish eating…" She scanned the faces of the table's occupants. "…All of you."

Dante tossed his eating utensils onto the table in a fit of frustration. Everyone stopped eating once the abrasive sounds penetrated the air. They all stared at the oldest, hulk of a man that was sitting at the table. He threw his hands up and then said, "Mama, I can't stay quiet any longer!" He glanced at Nasira and then back at their mother. "I can't stay quiet anymore… Especially when there is a rumor going around saying that she's slept with some waiter, over in Erudite, from some party!"

Nasira squeezed the stainless steel fork out of anger. Her eyes narrowed and she dug her teeth into her bottom lip. Despite it being sent to oblivion like most gossip that had gone on between the citizens, she still wasn't fond of that rumor.

Mrs. Grant snorted in disbelief. "Only small minds believe that rumor…" She sipped some wine from her glass. "…and besides, the only reason why people are talking is because she was dancing with her friend, Malachi…" She glowered at her oldest son. "…and it wasn't a party! It was the Diplomatic Banquet."

"But still, she is pregnant with no husband in sight!" Dante pointed out.

"The last time I've checked…" All eyes stared at the expecting mother-to-be. Nasira refused to look at anyone. She observed her half-eaten lump of mashed potatoes. "…a man doesn't have to be married to a woman in order to make a baby. Shit, we live in Dauntless, the land of reckless behavior."

"Yeah, you're right about that," Dante sneered. "Any old raggedy-mangy dude from off of the street can impregnate a woman. What I am asking you about, smart-ass, is the involvement of your unborn son's father."

Nasira continued to swirl her fork's tines into the creamy confection. The tension grew thicker as the seconds passed.

"How are you going to raise a boy on your own?! You know that this kid will grow up with a shit load of obstacles in his way! You know this! Erudite has recently released new stat—

Rogue decided it was time to stick up for his sister. "He has me! Whatever that kid needs—

"Rogue, shut up!" growled Samson while eyeing his younger brother. He glared at his sister. "Dante is right, you know. And Rogue is somewhat right in a way: he does have us. But, we will be his uncles and not his father. He will want to have his dad in his life, Nassy. We could play basketball with him, take to him to the pier, spar with him and show him how to be a man. But he's gonna eventually say that he would like for his dad to be there. I mean, if you want a clearer example, take us for example. We had one of the best dads there was: Goliath Grant! You know this, Nassy! Do you think that any of our uncles could replace our dad's spot?"

At the mentioning of their father, memories upon memories flooded her mind. She kept seeing her father's smiling face and hearing faded remnants of his voice as he laughed or spoke. She began to relieve the scent of his cologne when he hugged her. The image of her hand holding his as they walked to his SUV, back when they were on Amity. The relief that clouded her spirit after she received the news that her parents were pleased with her choice of heading to the faction of peace. The smell of blood and the sounds of his gagging filled up her subconscious. Her hands began to tremble while her vision of the mashed potatoes became blurry.

Something in her caused her wall of polite decorum to crumble. She turned her attention away from her plate of food and she gazed across the table to Dante. "You don't think that I know this already?! I know that my son will grow up facing risks and disadvantages! He has a defective mother and an absent father and he comes from a family of self-righteous, perfect people! But, I am going to raise him in the best way that I can! So, fuc—You know what, I'm leaving!"

Nasira rose from her seat and walked out of the dining room to the sounds of her family protesting. She didn't give any of them a response. She didn't even give her mother a decent farewell. When she stepped out of her mother's apartment building and took note of the decently lit sky, she realized just how early it still was, for the evening. She didn't want to go home just yet. She needed to vent and she knew which person to talk with.

*~oMLo~*

Nasira knew that her long-time friend, Malachi would've been up for a decent conversation. However, getting to him was going to require a bit of trickery, ever since he was an Erudite member now. It required a bit of a costume change and she was smart enough to keep a good one in her jeep. When she was a few blocks away from Erudite's territory, she pulled up in an abandoned gas station's parking lot and she changed out of her Dauntless black and into Erudite blue. She decorated her oval-shaped face with her pair of eyeglasses, before she resumed her traveling.

As she drew closer to Malachi's apartment complex, she grew antsy. Her skin tingled while the hairs on her neck stood straight up. She always undergone these sensations whenever she snuck into the Erudite lands. She felt like she was a teenager again and she was attempting to sneak into a boy's home, in the middle of the night. 'Alright Nassy, all you have to do is just pretend that you belong here,' she reminded herself before leaving her vehicle.

The evening sky turned from a bright lavender to a dark shade of purple. The moon was now on full display and the stars sparkled in the sky. Being that it was nighttime and Erudites tend to be so 'by the book' when it came to being outside, there weren't many of them loitering in the apartment complex's courtyard. The ones that were outside were so focused on getting to their destination that they didn't even took note of the pregnant woman.

When Malachi opened his front door and saw his best friend standing in the doorway, he was pleasantly surprised. "Well-well-well, look at what the Dauntless smog has dropped off on my doorstep!" he chirped before wrapping his arms around her expanded waist. He hugged in silence for a moment. "Judging by your stiffness, I am going to assume that this is one of those type of visits, where we're going to need some time and plenty of junk food."

"What kind of visit are you referring to?" she inquired into his shoulder.

"The one in which you will tell me more stuff about this bambino's pappy," Malachi answered.

"You're correct… Kind of."

Malachi allowed his best friend to enter his apartment. Once she was in his domain, he proceeded to dote on her like he was the father of her child. He treated her like a man supposed to treat his mate, when she was expecting. His sweet behavior did not go unnoticed by her. As she lounged across his comfortable sofa, she viewed him from across the living room, in his kitchenette. He was in the process of making her a vanilla ice cream milkshake, a craving that she confessed to him. During this process of observation, she imagined Eric in Malachi's place. Before her mind could fully conjure up the image, her facial features immediately frowned up with disbelief. The notion of Eric doing something as nice and selfless as taking care of his mate, seemed so far-fetched to her.

"A penny for your beautiful thoughts."

This kind and warm statement pulled her back into reality. Her eyes zeroed in on the offered milkshake glass that was in front of her face. Thought of a happy, singing and dancing Eric in a kitchen disappeared from her head and it was replaced with the delicious looking drink that was in front of her. Her mouth began to salivate as she took in the frosted glass, the bulbous amount of whipped cream that was floating on top and the bright red maraschino cherry that capped it off. Her hands reached for the glass. Her eyes darted to Malachi's face. "Thank you."

Malachi smiled. "It's no problem, honey." He walked over to the other side of the sofa and sat down. "Okay, so…" Silently, his hands asked for her feet. She complied with his request by placing her bare feet in his lap. "…what did that jackass-of a-brother of yours did tonight?" he questioned as his fingers massaged the tender flesh on her left foot.

She took a gulp of the sweet, creamy drink before answering him. "He told me that my son needs a father. It wasn't the message behind his words that bothered me. It—

"Was the context of his message that bothered you," he said, filling in her statement. Malachi sighed. "Well, you know Dante, finesse has never been one of his strong suits. I'm still amazed that he managed to find a life partner…aaaannnnnddddd it is a woman from Amity, on top of that!"

Nasira grinned. She gave a drink a long lingering stare before she dissolved into confessing. "I saw the Big Kahuna today."

Malachi's eyes widened in surprise at the news. Then a broad smile covered his lips.

"His tablet was broken and it needed repairs. Fucking Rafe decided to send me up to the leadership wings to get it."

"So, what did he say to you?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"He danced around the issue at first before he asked point-blank if he was Lucien's father. I told him that he wasn't the only bull on the farm… Or some shit like that," she confessed.

Malachi chuckled. "And what did he say after that?"

"He was confused by the metaphor, but I didn't bother to explain myself after that. I asked him if he needed any other equipment to be checked and I left afterwards."

"Good," he hummed. He resumed with the act of massaging her feet. "He needs to be kept in the dark about that baby. Eric…" He paused to cluck his teeth and to shake his head. "I don't trust his intentions when it comes to you and the kid…" He gave her face a glance. "…And I don't trust that sociopathic, manipulative meat-trap with the magic punanni either."

An unladylike guffaw busted from Nasira's mouth as well as a jolt from her body. Her cackling laughter bounced off of the white walls that made up his living room. "Magic… Magic punanni?!" she wheezed before falling back into a fit of laughter. "Who has the magic punanni?"

If Malachi's scarred face possessed eyebrows, she was sure that one of them would've characteristically lifted as he slyly glimpsed at her. "You know who: the chickadee that your crush is dating and your son's father is secretly banging out," he explained. His thumb made an appreciated deep prodding into the arch of her right foot. "I've managed to learn some things about those two. Some of it was gossip while other stuff I've managed to learn by pulling official records."

Her mood lifted even higher when she realized that Malachi was holding onto some Erudite juicy gossip. "So, what did you hear? What did you learn about them?"

"Well, let's start with 'the Big Kahuna', as you like to call him. With him, I didn't hear much gossip about him. Most of the info that I have about him, I had to dig from the Bureau of Records—

"The Bureau of Records?! Malachi, you didn't have to go through all of that much trouble for me," she declared.

"Honey, yes, I did. I wanted to make sure that you weren't dealing with a certified psycho. So, I checked out his records, any and every thing that I could find about him: his birth records, his school records and his… psych records."

'He has a psychological profile?' her brain whispered.

"Let's start with his birth records. His full name is Eric L. Coulter. He is twenty-six years old. He will be twenty-seven on November 12th. On his birth certificate, it listed his mother as being Deborah Coulter. Under the slot where his father's name was supposed to be listed, it is blank. Now, this is where I have a bit of gossip about him. From a very reliable source, I learned that Eric's father is a man that has a very prominent position, here in Erudite—

"Lysander Mott?" she said softly.

Malachi held a look of perplex. "What?! No!" He shook his head. "His dad is a big-wig, but not that big of a deal. Why did you think of Lysander Mott?" he chuckled.

Nasira sniggered. She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. It just popped up in my head. I guess it had something to do with the fact that I met him in Dauntless, last year." She subtly shook her head. "So, do you know about his dad?"

"His dad is Ike Kincaid," he confessed.

A mask of confusion covered her face. "Who's Ike Kincaid?"

Malachi gave her a look of disbelief. "Honey… You don't know who Ike Kincaid is?"

Her eyes narrowed. "No. I don't know who he is. So, tell me, you egg-head."

"Such a Dauntless," he muttered under his breath. He was rewarded with a smack to the back of his scarred, bald head. He broke out in a fit of laughter. "Okay-okay-okay, I'll tell you. Ike Kincaid is the man responsible for discovering the U-284 vaccine that every newborn baby takes to boost up their immune systems. So yeah, he is a pretty big deal."

"Are you guys sure that he is Eric's father? What about Eric's mother?" she asked.

"Like I said before, it is totally gossip. Now in regards to his mother, Deborah Coulter is an Erudite, born and raised. She is currently working in the faction's maintenance department, where she works in clerical. He has an older brother named Frank. He is still in Erudite. He works as a janitor. I also checked Eric's education records as well. Despite being cold and collected like you claimed him to be, he wasn't sooooo… Intelligent."

She tilted her head. "How?"

"His grades were 'minimum' at best. You remember when a sixty-five was a passing grade, when we were in school? Well, Eric was making those type of grades. Around the time of his defection to Dauntless, he was in the process of failing all of his classes. I've read his former teachers' notes as well. From what I've read, they all wanted to test him to make sure that he had dyslexia and Attention Deficient Disorder. It would explain why he was failing. But his mother never provided consent. Speaking of his mother…" Malachi blew a gust of air. "…she is a piece of work. She was investigated for abuse once…"

Nasira's eyebrows rose while her mouth dropped open.

"…Eric and his brother were found wandering through the streets one night in Candor, when they were kids. They were…" Malachi paused. He was trying to remember something. Once he remembered, he continued. "Eric was seven at the time while his brother was twelve. They were only in their underwear. Frank had a few bruises on him while Eric was frost-bitten. Lucky for them, that was the extent of their injuries. According to several of their teachers, Miss Coulter was negligent, when it came to her child-rearing duties, as well as, was aggressive towards the teachers and staff. He skipped school a lot. He was caught by Dauntless patrolmen trespassing on their property, when he was a kid."

"You've mentioned that he had undergone a psych exam. What happened?" she asked him.

He massaged her calf muscle in her right leg. "When Eric was ten years old, he was taken to see a psychiatrist due to his aggressive and volatile behavior. The doctor who administered the test recommended that he would continue seeing a doctor, but once again…" He left the statement opened.

"His mom wouldn't allow it," she filled it in.

"Or she didn't even bother to take the initiative," he interjected.

Nasira sighed. Her heart provided a steady and dull pulse along with her heartbeats. Her eyes stung with unshed tears. 'No, don't you dare feel bad for that…jerk,' her brain warned her spirit. She took a strong pull off of her drink. "Tell me about Anissa Howard," she said afterwards while staring into the cup.

"Aaaahhh Anissa… Now this is where we will talk about some juicy stuff," her friend announced. "For her, I've heard more gossip for her than I've heard about Eric. Like your son's father, I've dug up her records in the Bureau of Records. She…" He shook his head. "…is a sociopath, if I had to diagnose her."

Fear filled her and it made her skin form bumps along the surface. She tried to swallow the huge lump that was buried in her throat. "Is that your final diagnosis, doctor?" she murmured while her fearful eyes stared at him.

"If I had to examine her, then yes that would be my diagnosis. She exhibited the outwardly signs of being sociopathic. I've managed to speak to some of her former classmates and I've read her teachers' notes. Then there's the other stuff…" He rested his right temple on his right hand, which was propped up on the back of the couch. "…Do you remember the situation that involved the kid who jumped off of a building, here in Erudite? It happened almost ten years ago. It was—

Nasira remembered. It wasn't hard to forget. She remembered hearing about it from older schoolmates, when she was a kid. It was considered to be a rare feat, over in Erudite. She also recalled hearing her parents discuss it in the privacy of their bedroom. They were worried because her older brothers Pollux and Atlas had recently transferred into Erudite and everyone assumed that the kid committed suicide due to overwhelming pressure.

"Yeah. I remember it. You think that she had something to do with it?" she asked as she stabbed the clouds of sugary foam with her drinking straw.

"Me, personally? Yeah, I do. But the Erudite officials believed that the boy committed suicide, so the case was closed."

"What makes you so sure?"

"She was dating that boy around the time that he died. According to his family and his friends, he didn't have any reason to commit suicide. He didn't exhibit any suicidal tendencies or poor mental-slash-behavioral health. When it came to him cutting it in Erudite during the initiation process, he was in the top spot. He was born and raised in Erudite. He was a brilliant young man, according to his teachers and trainers. So, the theory that he was feeling overwhelmed is utter bullshit. Then there's the shit that I dug up about her. In some of her old teachers' records, they mentioned that she orchestrated some fights between her male classmates. She refused to interact with other girls. Most of her juvenile bonds were formed with the male classmates. She once attacked her kindergarten teacher because the woman tried to force her to play with the other girls. That… odd behavior carried on with her, as she grew up. She rarely interacted with other women. She would instigate fights between boys, when she was in school. She loved the adoration of men. She even caused a teacher to be place on an 'administrative leave' after a particular nasty rumor was circulated about his unhealthy friendship with her…" Malachi rolled his shoulders thrice. "…A strange thing happened, as I was going through her records. I found out that she had a psych file. But, I couldn't get access to it. It was restricted," he told her.

"I thought all types of physicians and the head-shrinkers had access to the records," she pointed out.

"We do. Well, we're supposed to have access to all of the records. But for some reason, I wasn't able to get access to her records."

"Well, that's creepy," she murmured.

"In my amateur opinion, I think Anissa loves to be in control over living things. I think she prefers to have control over men, which is why she only interacts with them. I think she gets off on it. With her, she can easily use her physical looks as a tool for manipulation. Men are bigger and stronger. She gets off on controlling something that is bigger and powerful than her and then breaking it down. And what's more powerful than a faction leader?"

Nasira leaned against the back of the couch while her feet touched the floor. "She sounds like a nut to me."

"And your big and bad leader wants to be with her…" He shrugged his shoulders. "…and I say let them be together. Just don't be surprised, when she convinces a teenaged boy to kill his ass, twenty years from now!" he joked.

Her face crumpled. "That was harsh," she added. She placed the back of her head against the edge of the couch.

A wave of suitable silence washed over the living room. It was comforting, too comforting. A warm energy flooded her body. Her limbs started to feel heavy as if they were being weighed down. A yawn bubbled up to the surface and she unleashed it. Her eyelids fluttered before slowly draping over her eyes.

"I seriously worry about you."

She opened her eyes and stared at the white crown molding that decorated the wall that was across from her. "What?" she murmured sleepily.

"I said, that I worry about you," he chuckled.

"Why?"

"Because I can. Because you're my friend. Because you're my family. Because you've been impregnated by the human personification of a social-climbing, Boogey Man. Take your pick," he informed her.

She giggled, "I'll take the last one".

Malachi sighed. "It is for the best that Eric does not know about the baby, honey. He seems like the type to believe that… Lucien is a cursed object, a burden for him… Rather than a blessing. He'll more likely throw you in the Chasm like he did that boy."

Her head slowly lolled to the left. "Now that was a rumor," she corrected him. She stitched a giggle to her statement, even though her heart was pounding from the fear.

"Just pray that Lucien comes out looking like you instead of him," he reasoned. "I wish that you were in Erudite, babe. I could protect you, if you were living in here."

"If I had the choice, I would've been in Amity, babe" she confessed.

"Amity?!" he scoffed. "You would've wasted away in Amity."

She snorted. "How do you know that?" She started to feel her feet tighten up, a sign that they were going to swell up. She flexed her feet. "I could've been somebody in Amity. I could've been a business owner."

Malachi cackled. "Doing what?"

Nasira shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I could've opened up the best damn marijuana dispensary-slash-sock store in Amity."

Her best friend's laughter bounced off of the walls.

*~oMLo~*

It was close to ten o'clock in the evening, when she returned to Dauntless. She was wide awake and alert now. It had to be the nap that she had on Malachi's couch. He allowed her to sleep for an hour before he woke her up. He reminded her that she needed to drive home. She managed to make it home safely and without any aggravation. Before she left her car, she changed out of her teal colored dress and tossed her black clothes back on. Once she entered her building's lobby, she remembered the out-of-service elevator. She reluctantly took the stairs to the fourth floor. By the time she reached the door that led to the corridor, she felt as if she just finished running in a marathon. Her face, shoulders, armpits and her arms were glowing with perspiration. The muscles in her legs were taut and sore.

'Oh God, I can't wait to get rid of this weight,' she silently said to herself as she panted. 'I am sweating like a pig!'

She exited the stairwell and made a sharp left turn into the corridor. She made it a few feet, when she saw a familiar sight at the other end of the hallway. He sat on the wooden bench that was propped against the wall. His upper body was hunched over with his elbows resting on top of his kneecaps. His head was bowed. Besides both of his feet and on the floor, were plastic shopping bags. She knew that they were leftovers from tonight's dinner.

"Dante?"

He lifted his head up and stared at her. A look of relief crossed his face. "Nassy," he breathed. He stood up. Then he picked up the two bags. "Ma—

"Leftovers?" she said to him. Her brother nodded his head. Nasira walked to the last door on the right side of the hallway. She keyed in a sequence of numbers into the keypad that was on the door's handle. She glanced at the hulk of a man, who was now standing next to her. "How long have you been waiting out there?" she asked as she passed through the threshold.

"Mmm, since an hour after you left Mom's house."

'That's… One… two…three—

"You've been sitting here for four hours?" she questioned. She flicked on a switch that was next to her front door. The pair of free-standing lamps powered on as a result. She walked further into the room. She heard the door click shut.

"Whoa!" she heard her brother sigh in awe. The comment made her smile. She heard his footfalls against the hardwood floorboards. "Did you do all of this?" he asked.

Nasira was a spectator to her brother's surveillance of her living room. In her spare time, she drew and built abstract pieces. He walked along each of the white-painted walls and he gazed at each of the framed art that was mounted. He walked past her ceiling-to-floor windows and walked over to the other side of the room. He came to a halt and then stared up at the giant light structure that hung from the ceiling.

"Did you do this as well?" he asked as he stared at the white light structure.

"Yeah, I did. I used paper," she told him.

"Paper? No shit?" he asked in awe.

"Yup, one day I was bored and I had stacks of paper and a glue stick, so…" Her voice trailed off. She shrugged her shoulders.

He walked over to the series of windows that were on facing the black, leather sectional couch. He stood in front of the center window and he stared out. "You have a great view of the pier!" he declared. He glanced at her over his left shoulder. He gave a comforting smile. He glanced back at the fantastic view. "But your view doesn't beat my view at home though…" He placed the bags on the floor. "…Our house rests on this hill, right. The windows in my bedroom are positioned just right, so that every morning we able to see the sun rises. Every time I see it…" He paused. His teeth clucked. "It's Heaven on Earth. On the mornings when I am taking care of Nova, I always take her to those windows and I show her the sun. She even says 'sun' and points to it." He laughed.

As her brother talked, she walked across the living room to join her brother. He continued to speak about his version of Heaven. She approached him and placed her head on his right bicep and she held onto his hand.

"…she giggles and—

He paused. There was silence. She felt his eyes stare down at her. But soon she felt his arm wrapped around her shoulders. He pulled her close to his body. His gentle action reminded her of her late father's 'hard-gentle' demeanor. His physique also reminded her of her father as well. It caused her to break down that wall, she managed to build up.

"I'm sorry," she said softly before dissolving into tears.

"Tsk," his teeth clucked. "Awww Nassy," he groaned softly before grasping her into his embrace. "I should be apologizing to you. I was a self-righteous asshole towards you."

Nasira unleashed a few sobs before mumbling a "Yeah". Then she felt his body tremble as he laughed.

*~oMLo~*

It was close to one o' clock in the morning, when she prepared for bed. After she made up with her oldest brother, they spent the following few hours chatting and eating the leftovers that her mother gave her. After he left her home, she stripped out of her Dauntless black clothes and took her long-awaited shower. Once she slathered her skin with moisturizer, she stood in front of her free-standing mirror. 'Ugh!' she silently groaned in disgust. "I'm…" She turned to her side profile and stared at her reflection. Her hands rubbed at her bulging stomach and then her oil-slicked thick left thigh. "…fat," she grunted. "And I'm going to get fatter." She walked away from the mirror and walked over to the light switch that was on the wall, next to the bedroom door. She flicked the plastic switch to power down the ceiling light. A blanket of darkness was thrown over the bedroom.

She made her way over to the foot of her canopy bed. Her fingers grasped the marble and wood footboard and she held onto whatever surface, as she walked to the side of the bed. Her fingertips snatched up the thick comforter and buttery-soft bed sheets. She drew the linen back and slid into her bed. A shudder and a deep sigh fell from her lips after she laid down. She rolled onto her left side and she rubbed at her protruding belly. Her unborn son made his presence known by poking at her hand.

"Hello, Lucien," she greeted. She deeply sighed. "Mama is going to bed now, so you might as well cut it out." There were a few more kicks and flutters. "You're going to be stubborn just like your daddy, huh?" A flash of memory filled her mind. "Let's just hope that you're totally not like him."

*~oMLo~*

Nine Months and Three Weeks Ago

For the twelfth time, Nasira's fingers touched at the soft material that formed the dress' deep cowl neck.

"Nasira!" Her mother's harsh whisper caused her to drop her hand away from the shimmering, red fabric. She peeped at her mother, who sat in the front passenger seat of her brother's vehicle. The scowl was gone from the older woman's face and was replaced with an expression of content. "That's better. You need to stop playing with your dress. You look very pretty," her mother commented.

"Yeah… Despite having your boobies practically spilling out of your dress," quipped Rogue.

"Rogue!" her mother shrieked. Then her brother received a slap on the back of his head for his trouble.

Mrs. Grant looked in the backseat at her daughter. "You do look beautiful, baby" she confirmed.

Nasira smiled. "Thank you, Mom…" She peered down at the dress. "…Even though I still don't believe you when you said that you bought this dress in Amity."

"I did buy it in Amity!" her mom claimed with exuberance. "Your Aunt Patty knows the woman who designed the dress!"

"Who in Amity will buy this outfit? This doesn't scream 'hoe-down, barn festival,shindig' to me."

"The boutique doesn't cater to only Amity members…as you now know," her mother explained. She returned to her original position in the front passenger seat.

Silence filled the cabin of the SUV. Each passenger was in their own little world. Nasira stared out of the window and at the passing scenery. Her subconscious was really at the forefront in her mind. She pondered about her impending night. Will this be the night, in which she and Eric will make the first crack in the pristine veneer that was Patrick's and Anissa's relationship? She was aware that the couple will be at the banquet dinner. She also knew that Eric would grace the Erudite hall with his presence as well. A neglected feeling of curiosity tickled at her consciousness. The thought of the Dauntless leader's possible choice in apparel entered her mind. A part of her believed that he would show up in his usual garb: the combination of a black vest, a black short-sleeved shirt, a pair of black jeans and a pair of leather boots. But another part of her awareness recognized the fact that he came from the Erudite faction. She was aware that every man in that faction wore business attire.

'Wait—What? Why am I thinking about Eric of all people?!' her conscience questioned.

Nasira couldn't even answer that question. She couldn't say that it was of a recent blossomed friendship between Eric and her. In the past five months, they were hardly in each other's presence for longer than thirty minutes. To find out about her level of progression, they would meet in secluded nooks of the dark compound. Then the usual song and dance would occur: he would ask for a report, she would tell him and then he would state his unsatisfactory with her tactics in the form of insults. She would become defensive and explain her intentions behind those actions.

She didn't think that her seductive talents were terrible. She was using her logic. She knew that she couldn't turn from being "Meek the Mouse" to a sex-fueled vixen in the matter of days. She couldn't do this with Patrick, who was a man that clearly wasn't as open and free. She knew that she needed to start off slow and non-aggressive. She needed to delve into a friendship with him first. So, she began to act like a friend towards him. When they were at work, she would initiate conversations with him, whether if it was in the canteen before their shifts or during their fifteen-minute breaks. Whenever she was invited to join a small group of colleagues for an after-work activity, she would invite Patrick. There were occasions where he accepted her invitation and there were times when he would politely decline.

Within the matter of two months, Patrick treated her like she was a friend. It was also within those two months, her attraction for him waned. His presence no longer caused her tummy to flutter and her pulse to race. Her flesh did not become hot to the point where she wanted to bathe in cold water. Her thighs didn't tightened around her jewel any longer, in desire, when she saw him.

It was at this point when she knew that she was in a quandary. Her attraction for Patrick disappeared, which meant her original incentive to break up his relationship was gone. However she couldn't back out of this plan, due to the other two people involved. She knew that Eric wouldn't allow her to back out due to her moral stance. Plus he gave off the vibe that he would become vengeful and vindictive towards her, legacy be damned. Then there was Anissa. Over the past five months, Nasira came to the conclusion that she did not like this woman at all. At first her level of dislike for the woman was based on unfounded claims and a side-effect from her jealousy. Now, it was legit. After observing the young doctor's actions from the brief interactions that she had with her, her feelings were legit. Patrick's girlfriend was as kind as an ornery asp. She was cunning and manipulative, especially towards men. She came to that conclusion after she witnessed how the woman would behave around Patrick. For the fellow technician, she was this confident woman that was kind and thoughtful. When, on those rare occasions of which Nasira would come across Anissa with Eric, the Dauntless-transfer was a different woman. When she was around Eric, she put up this "slightly emotionally-cold, pampered princess and hard-to-get" façade.

This year's banquet was being held in Erudite, in their highly-esteemed "Anthropology Museum", in their ballroom. When the Grants arrived, they weren't the only ones. Several families were amongst them. Her mother knew several of those people. She immediately fell into the role of ambassador and mingled. Like a proud mom, she introduced Rogue and Nasira to them. With a forced smile on her face, she stood on her mother's left side and pretended to be engage in their conversations. On multiple occasions, the smile kept her from showing her true expression. She was offended at how some of the male guests would openly ogle at her mother and at her.

For tonight's festivities, her mother chose to wear a long-sleeved, floor-length gown that was black with thin, gold metallic threading in the fabric. The sleeves were made with transparent material and the dress held a flesh-colored lining underneath the outer transparent layer. The front of the collar held a deep V-neckline and the waist was gathered with a thin gold belt. Her mother's hairless head was covered by an elaborate, black head wrapping. Her graceful neck was adorned with a heavy gold necklace that held a chunky, bejeweled pendant. Her mother looked beautiful. And the older woman knew it. The woman preened like a peacock.

Even though the museum was opened to all of the factions besides Erudite, she never patron the facility. As she stared at the interior in awe, she wished that she did make at least one visit.

"Nasira?"

She looked away from the encased moth exhibit and she turned in the direction of the voice. "Yes?" Her eyes widened slightly and a smile grew, when she saw a familiar person. "Wwwwow… Patrick!" she gasped as she looked at him. "You look dapper tonight!"

Patrick like always looked polished and handsome. When he was home in Dauntless, he was the only Dauntless member that did not wear jeans or cargo pants all of the time. He would always show up to his shift in all-black, business attire. Tonight was no exception. The tall gentleman donned a black suit that was tailored to his frame. Underneath his black blazer, he wore a black shirt and a black vest. His neck tie and pocket square were the same oxen-blood color. His slacks held a subtle looseness and a flare.

At the moment he also wore a handsome smile that displayed his dimples. His dark brown eyes did their own perusal. It did not go unnoticed by Nasira. "I'm not the only one that looks extraordinary tonight!" he claimed. "You look beautiful, Nasira…"

Her cheeks blushed. Her doe-shaped eyes panned down at her outfit. She glanced at blood red-colored, silk floor-length dress. She stuck out her right foot from underneath the dress. Her ornate, golden high heeled shoe took a peek at her.

"…Not that you're ugly or anything. I just—

She giggled. "I know what you mean. And, thank you by the way."

"You're welcome."

She drew closer to him. "So you've made it! Did you come with your girlfriend?" she asked.

"Yeah, I did. She's…" Patrick turned his attention away from her. He stared off into the crowd. When he spotted his object of desire, he pointed. "…There! She's over by the bar. She's talking to her friends."

Her eyes scanned the room for the bar. Once she found the bar, she found Anissa. Her mouth frowned up. 'Hmmm, it figures.'

Anissa was in the company of four men and she was the only woman amongst them. Nasira saw the flute of champagne in her right hand and one of the men's lapel in the other. She assumed that Patrick's girlfriend must've been engaged in an entertaining conversation because she was smiling wide and laughing.

"She looks…nice," she said forcefully.

In her true opinion, she believed that his girlfriend was dressed like the typical Dauntless meat-traps. She wore a black dress that ended mid-thigh and was tight. Her wavy, chestnut colored hair was styled in a Dutch braid with a pompadour on the crown of her head. Even from several yards away, she saw the dark eye makeup.

'She is such a meat-trap,' she concluded. 'Just because she is a doctor, it doesn't make her an exception.'

"She's the love of my life," he declared.

She glanced at Patrick. "So you love her like that, huh?" His response was a head nod. "She's a lucky girl."

"Thank you."

"So— Aahh!"

Her sight was taken away from her. A black void was presented to her. The abundant sound of music seemed to flood her ears. Then she was subjected to the sensation of lips brushing up against her right ear.

"Guess who it is."

'Malachi,' her brain immediately answered.

"Malachi, if you don't get your hand from off of my—

She elbowed him in his stomach. His hand lifted off and she was rewarded with her sight again. She turned to her friend and peppered his arms with her fists. Malachi laughed and deflected her strikes. Once he had enough, he forced her into a restrictive hold.

"You're an asshole!" she screamed over the music.

"You love me!" teased a laughing Malachi.

"You're insufferable asshole!"

"You love me, Nassy!" he repeated. He pressed his lips against her ear. "So, is this the one that you're crushing on?"

"I was crushing on him," she pointed out.

"Oh-kay! You were! Now where is his girlfriend?"

"By the bar. You can't miss her," she answered.

Malachi's head pulled away. A second later, he laughed in her ear. "She's interesting."

"What?"

"She looks like any ol' meat-trap but she has your fearless leader by the balls and this fool ready to lay his life down for her. Her mind games must be on par," Malachi explained. "I wonder what it is her motive."

"Why don't you ask her? Better yet, lemme go and you can go and analyze her," she told him.

"Nnnnooooo, you're mine!" he whined like a child.

"In case you forgot, I was talking to someone when you interrupted me."

"So what. Let him wait," he told her.

"What about—

"Eric!?" He snorted. "I don't care! Let him see us and think what he wants to think! Tonight, you're off of his clock. You are going to have fun. This is the only time that I can have fun with you without hearing the 'Faction before blood' bullshit. So you, ma'am, say goodbye to Mister Boring Long Legs over there and then come with me," he instructed.

Nasira chuckled as they parted ways. She turned towards Patrick. She smiled sheepishly. "That…" She pointed over her left shoulder. "…is my friend Malachi. As you can see, he's a bit of a clown."

Patrick smiled and chuckled. "He's just happy to see you. Go ahead. I'll see you later!"

"Promise me that you will dance with me," she said to him.

"I will, but I can't guarantee that I will be good!" he remarked.

"I don't care!" she shouted at him as she walked backwards towards Malachi. She turned away and ran up to her friend, who grabbed her hand. The two friends proceeded to make use of their time.

After having a brief reunion with her family, Malachi fetched drinks. First, they downed an appetizer which were glasses of champagne. It was followed by two shots of tequila. Before the first hour since her arrival was over, she was swimming through a nice buzz. The two friends found empty spots at their assigned table and animatedly talked. Dinner was eventually served, which she was grateful for because her buzz was starting to creep into the 'intoxication' territory, due to the meager rations of digested food in her stomach. Before the hired servers could take away guests' plates, Nasira and Malachi were on the dancefloor. Both dance partners tossed a self-imposed bubble around them during this time. Malachi took the lead and she followed, whether if they were performing a simple two-step to a ballad that was played by the band or if it was dancing to a bachata tune. They were unaware that their great time was being admired and viewed by other guests.

Occasionally, they would take a break from dancing, so Nasira could rest, in particular her left foot could rest. It was recently finished healing from a laceration that was infected, but the area still felt tender. It was during these breaks, when they would go back to their first mutual activity, which was drinking.

It was during a festive, up-tempo song, when she felt a tap on her right shoulder. Both friends came to a stop and came to see that it was Rogue who approached them. "Mom and Aunt Patty wants us to take a picture," her brother told her in a glumly state. He even added an eye roll. Nasira took in her brother's disheveled state: the messed up collar, the unfinished tie, the smears of red lipstick that decorated his toffee-colored skin and the fragrance of flowers that clung to his clothes. "She wants you to clean yourself up!" he shouted over the loud music. "She said that she don't want you to take the photo looking like you've just finished having a romp in a broom closet!"

Malachi snickered in her ear while Nasira outright cackled. The two friends pressed their sweat-covered foreheads together and they stared at each other. Matching Cheshire smiles marred their faces. They bodies did a clumsy swaying motion to the music.

"Are you two drunk?!" questioned Rogue as he continued to stand next to them.

Malachi looked at the younger man, who he considered to be a brother, and in a dead-panned voice, announced "Yes. We're drunk. We're drunk off of our love for each other and—

"LLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOVVVVVVVEEEEEEEEE…" Nasira proceeded to wail, loudly.

Rogue rolled his eyes and shook his head.

She broke out in a stream of giggles and then collapsed her head on Malachi's left shoulder.

"Oh God," her brother groaned. Then he grabbed his sister's right arm and gave her a firm yank. She didn't put up any resistance and her slightly shorter frame tottered over to him. She did a clumsy bump against his torso and she giggled. "Come on, you derelict," he commanded. He led the way and she followed, giggling all of the way.

In the corners of her eyes, she saw her brother lead her away from the dancefloor, but from the assigned table as well. He led her out of the banquet room, where the dinner was being held also. She was greeted with bright lights, a wave of air-conditioned air and a dull ringing in her ears. After being led through the foyer that was outside of the banquet room and through a short hallway, they reached their destination: a line of seven women that formed outside of a women's restroom entrance.

Rogue led her to the end of the line and then released his hold. "Can you make your way back from here?" he asked her.

She nodded her head and then sighed. "Yes, I am not that drunk, Rogue!" Then her feet made a slight stumble after losing her balance a bit. She heard her brother scoff. "I'm…okay," she reported as she held her hands up. They pressed themselves against his dinner jacket-covered chest. "My brain just realized that I was wearing heels," she explained. She looked at her brother's disheveled state. "Dude, you need…" She sniggered. "…to clean yourself up…" She surveyed his neck. "Who's the unfortunate bird that did this to you?" She received a harsh pluck against her forehead, as a response. Her intoxication numbed the pain.

"She's from Dauntless and that's all I am telling you," he informed her.

"I hope Mommy didn't see you like this. You know that she will have a big ol' fit, if she does. Poor girl wouldn't stand a chance with the old woman. She won't even make it past y'all first date, much less get the…'mommy tattoos'."

Rogue gave her elbow a friendly nudge. He smirked. "She don't have to worry about that, anyhow. Speaking of 'mommy tattoos', Mama is too busy trying to get you to finally have a reason to get some."

Nasira sneered at her brother's laughing face. "First, I have to get a man that will stay around long enough and get married. Then I have to get pregnant first and have the damned kid."

"When it comes to finding a man, I wouldn't worry about that one. I think Mama is busy trying to find you one right now…"

'What?!' She gave her brother a thunderous look. "Expound, please," she said calmly.

Rogue chuckled. "While you and Malachi was dancing away like you were Fred and Ginger, our mother was pointing you out to several young gentlemen and was talking to them. What about? I don't know. She was probably telling them your measurements and your ovulation schedule," he joked.

Nasira rolled her eyes and grimaced. Her brother chuckled and then gave her right shoulder a parting pat. 'Ugh, Mommy!' she quietly grunted while she listened to her brother's parting footsteps.

When she finally entered the women's restroom, she did a quick surveillance. The bathroom was settled in a very wide space. Individual stalls aligned two walls of the restroom. In the center of the room, there was a long concession of vanity tables with floating mirrors. Each table held an elaborate sink. A trio of uniformed bathroom attendants and their booths lined up the wall that was closest to the entryway. Nasira did a quiet and quick body assessment and came to the conclusion that she didn't need to use a stall, despite drinking like a fish tonight. She approached an available vanity table. She greeted her reflection with a smile on her face. In her peripheral view, she caught a few patrons stare at her. She didn't know if those glances were based off of curiosity, marvel or contempt. She didn't care, an emotional feat that took decades for her to master.

'Rogue was right. I do look like I have a freshly fucked look about me,' she quietly assumed. Every bit of exposed skin was glowing with a thin layer of perspiration and a healthy red tint underneath the surface. Her once-coiffed hair of layered curls were mussed up and carrying more volume, thanks to the humidity that clung to the air. One of her curls now draped over her forehead and covered her left eye. Her base and foundation was still holding up despite the sweat clinging to her face. Her clear lip gloss was now gone and most likely littered on several eating and drinking utensils. 'I need my lip…' Then she realized that she didn't have her clutch purse with her. 'Eh, it doesn't…'

A blur of darkness managed to flash across her peripheral view. Her vision was drawn to the sight. Her eyes landed on her mirror and she stared at the reflection. In particular, the reflection of the woman that was standing next to her.

She resisted the urge to frown up her face and purse her lips from irritation at the sight of Anissa. 'Oh the Gods why have you forsaken me so by having this meat-trap stand next to me,' she silently groaned.

The usually short-statured woman stood several inches away from Nasira. She stood in front of her own vanity mirror and she was observing her reflection. Her stubby hands were making brief touches to her hair and her face. Her fingertips made sure that her makeup was still well-kempt.

A niggling thought entered Nasira's head. 'I wonder if ol' girl is here to act—

"How do you know my boyfriend?"

'Which one?' The left corner of Nasira's mouth turned up to form a smirk. She turned her attention to the actual person this time. She gave Anissa a slow, full-body scan. She did it to cause some sort of discomfort and insecurity in the smaller woman. "We work together. We've…" She pointed to Anissa and then to herself. "…met actually…" She turned away from her to fetch a few tissues from the box that was on the vanity countertop. "A few weeks ago, you came by the tech department…"

'Smelling like both Eric and sex, by the way.'

"…and you brought lunch for Patrick…" She patted the tissues against her sweaty skin. "…He introduced us." She glimpsed at the woman. "Don't you remember?"

'You probably don't have a clue.'

"No, I don't remember that! I think that I would remember you," she slightly groaned. She sneered.

Nasira recognized that look. She understood the hidden message behind it. She chortled low, under her breath. "Oh no-no-no-no, honey" she said with a smile. "This…" She gestured to her outfit and hair. "…is not my usual get-up. A 'sex vixen', I am not. What you're seeing here are special effects and movie magic."

Anissa took a few steps forward, towards her. The taller woman could sense the smaller, older one's level of hostility. "I don't care what you look like! I want you to keep away from—Eric!"

Nasira's brow crumpled. 'Eric?! Sooo, you're admitting that shit to me?!' Then she noticed Anissa's eyes shift away from her to stare at a figure that was behind her. She felt energy caressing her back. She made a fast spin and ended up facing the one person that she least expected to be in the women's restroom. 'Eric?! What-the-hell is he doing in here?!'

Her wide dark amber eyes scanned the tall and broad, masculine figure that stood in front of the two women. She noticed that he indeed used his God-given logic, when it came to his choice in clothing. For Nasira, she believed that he didn't look like a typical Dauntless knuckle-head with the all-denim and black, Oxford boots. Tonight, he was dressed like a well-polished gentleman. He wore all-black suit, like every other Dauntless man that was a guest. A black jacket that appeared to be made from velvet, which was an expensive fabric that was hard to obtain in all five factions. In the left breast pocket, there was a pocket square which was meticulously folded. The pocket square matched the tie that he wore, black with small white polka-dots. A black dress shirt was underneath his jacket. His dress slacks were tailored and straight-leg. He wore polished, black shoes on his feet.

'Wow, he dress up tonight,' she said to herself. A small part of her expected for Eric to show up to this banquet wearing a sleeveless denim vest, a short-sleeved shirt, a pair of skinny jeans and his favorite black, combat boots. She was surprised when her vision ended up being caught in his. A corner of his mouth ended up turning up into a smirk.

"Eric, what are you doing in here?"

Nasira watched his eyes rolled over to stare at the woman that stood next to her. She eyed the woman. Anissa stood in her spot, fidgeting with her dress and her hair. She found her behavior to be odd. Just a few seconds ago, she was behaving like an aggressive woman with insecurities and now she was acting like a socially-awkward teenager girl. 'What game is she playing?'

"I came in here to fetch my date…" he informed her.

Confusion flooded Nasira's spirit.

"…Her family is waiting for her…"

Then the confusion disappeared and was replaced with enlightenment. Her manicured eyebrows lifted with surprise. 'Wait a damned minute!' Her dark brown orbs watched him as he eyed her. He extended his left hand towards her. 'Wait a damned minute!'

"…Nasira, your mom asked me to come and get you," he simply stated, as if they were on very familiar terms.

'What kind of game is he playing?' She glance at both faces of the secret lovers. 'Y'all freaks belong with each other!' She strutted past Eric and ignored his offered hand. She walked out of the bathroom. She didn't bother to check to see if he followed her.

She traveled back to the ballroom and proceeded to find her family. When she was a few feet away, she was greeted with a wonderful surprise. It was a surprise that was covered in Erudite blue. Her older brothers, Atlas and Pollux had joined their tables. She also detected the presence of her Aunt Eula and her husband Silas at the table as well. She suddenly felt like she was a child again. She lost her sense of manners and decorum. She ended her running across the hall and jumped into Atlas' awaiting arms. She hugged while laughing in his ears before she was passed off to Pollux, who held her against his six-foot-three inch frame like she was four year-old girl again. She hugged Atlas' fraternal twin brother as if she didn't want to let him go at all. Her brother Rogue hilariously had to peel her off, so they could all take pictures.

It was during the picture-taking process, when she realized why her mother always patron these annual dinners and would force the rest of the family to attend. When she was a child, she found them to be boring and long-winded. Now, as an adult she understood why these functions were so important. Ever since her father died, her mother's desire to be around her family had greatened. At the annual banquet, she was able to interact with her sons that left and her other relatives who lived in other factions.

These were the moments when the "Faction over blood bullshit" (as Malachi preferred to call it) didn't exist. Parents could reunite with sons and daughters. It was here, when grandparents from one faction could finally meet their grandchildren that were being raised in another.

After the family photos were taken, Nasira decided to rest temporarily. She found an unoccupied chair and took a seat. The arch in her left foot ached, so she removed her shoe to check out the tender spot. As her fingers massaged the sore flesh, she surveyed the table's other occupants. She made glances at her Aunt Patty and Aunt Gloria as they fawned over Trudy's and Dante's toddler. She watched her young cousins run around the table, chasing each other. She chuckled as blurs of Candor's black and white and Amity's gold and red whipped around the round table. She laughed at brothers Atlas and Pollux's talents of still being able to get under Rogue's skin, despite being "The Man" as he loved to call himself. Her brothers Trigger and Samson were trading car stories at the table. Then her eyes caught the visual of her mother's profile as she talked to…Eric.

'Eric?!' her brain shrieked while her eyes bulged. She dropped her bare foot to the floor. She continued to watch this spectacle. Her mother had her back faced to the table while the leader was standing in front of her. Her eyes even bulged wider when she noticed the genuine happiness that was etched on his face. His skin glowed, his eyes radiated and there was a toothy smile on his lips. 'Wait— What?!' She glanced at her mother who was chatting away and then she freaked her daughter out by placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. Her mother said a few words to him and it made the young leader blush. Nasira's jaw had gone slack. 'Did I fall into another universe?!'

Her Erudite trait was now activated and she wanted some answers. She slipped her shoe back on her foot and then made her way over to the Dauntless pair. As soon as she approached them, her mother wrapped an affectious arm around her shoulders and drew her close. She gave her mother a look of suspicion. "Alright woman, what are you up to?!" she announced over the loud music.

"What?! I am up to nothing!" her mother shouted, cheerfully. "I was just speaking with our leader, Eric!" she explained. She looked at the young man that was standing in front of them. "Eric, have you met my daughter Nasira?" Then she looked at her daughter. "Nassy, have you met—Of course, you know who he is! He was the one who looked after you guys, when you were an initiate!" She looked back at Eric and addressed him. "Eric, this is my daughter—

Eric nodded his head. "I know who she is, Mrs. Grant!" Then his eyes zeroed in on her and she couldn't help feel a cold chill against her skin. "I remember her from when she was an initiate!" he informed her mother, but kept his eyes on her.

Nasira detected the subtle jerky movement that his cerulean orbs made as it jumped from her eyes to parts of her that further down south. A wave of heat permeated from her collarbone and her breasts. An eyebrow raised and her head slightly tilted in confusion. 'Did he…? Did he ogled my tits?' Her cheeks and face filled up with warmth. Nervously, she eyed her mother. "So, you're not over here trying to negotiate my dowry right now?" she jested.

Her mother gave a firm squeeze. "No, of course not!" her mother said cheerily. "I have to discuss that with Eric right after he tells me how many cows he has first!"

Nasira scoffed as her mother laughed at her own joke. She rolled her eyes and did a glimpse at Eric. She noticed that he was staring at something that was behind her. Then abruptly his eyes landed on her.

"Dance with me," he blurted out.

'What?!' She blinked and then gazed dumbly at his face. "What—

"Oooh, that is a great idea, Eric!" her mother interjected. She released her hold on Nasira's shoulders and then gave her back gentle prodding towards the tall gentleman in black. "Go on Nassy! Go dance with the man!" her mother instructed.

Nasira wasn't ready for her mother's push, so she ended up colliding into Eric's broad torso. Her hands reached out in front of her to break the impact. Her hands ended up clasping a handful of soft velvet material. Embarrassment filled her. She glimpsed into Eric's intense gaze before she glanced at her mother, over her right shoulder. "Mom!" she shrieked.

Mrs. Grant waved her off. "Go on," she mouthed.

Her feet began to move before she could stare straight ahead. Eric held a firm grip on her wrists and gently pulled her away. With small, quick steps, she was led to the dance floor and to the center where they were surrounded by bodies of dancing forms. The band decided to use this period of time to play ballads, which she was thankful for. She didn't want to learn about Eric' dancing abilities during an upbeat tune. Both faction members slipped into their respective positions. His right arm wrapped across her lower back and his fingers molded to the curve of her right hip. Her right hand slipped into his left hand and held on. With eleven inches of space in between them, they proceeded to dance to the music. For Nasira, it was more like she swaying from side to side like two anxiety-riddled kids at a school dance.

"So, what brought this on, Eric?" she asked him, ten minutes later.

"She's watching."

Nasira did not need for him to tell her who was their admirer. She knew. Anissa. She figured that the temptress in black must've had them on her radar after they left the bathroom. "Where is she?" she asked him as she eyed his necktie's knot.

"By the bar—

Nasira snorted. "This doesn't surprise me," she mumbled. "Is she still looking over here?"

"Yes."

'Okay, so it's time to switch up the game here. Make her jealous. I can't keep using one tool and not the other ones that are in my toolbox.'

"Eric, look at me," she commanded.

"Why?"

"Just look at me and just stare at me. Just trust me on this," she told him. Soon, she felt blue-colored heat fan her face. He scanned her entire face before focusing on her eyes. "G-Good," she breathed. "J-Just keep it. It's a cheap and easy way to convey the act of intimacy." She internally cringed at the word-stumbling and the feeling that his gazing conjured up in her. She foolishly believed that she was used to each and every one of his heavy focuses. "Talk to me," she whispered. 'Menial conversation will keep the feeling away.'

"About what?" he said curtly.

"Anything," she squeaked. Her mouth did a subtle snarl, a sign in her disappointment for displaying her sense of nervousness to him. "Tell me…" Her eyes drifted off, as well as, her voice. She caught sight of her mother in the sidelines. An idea floated into her head. "Tell me about how you know my mother," she asked with a smile.

His eyes narrowed and his top lip committed a small snarl. "What do you mean by that?" His voice was filled with accusations of distrust.

"You know what I mean," she told him with a pucker of her lips. "You and my mother, just now… That wasn't the body language of two colleagues. It was the behavior of two friends, at minimum. At the maximum, it was the way two family members interact with each other. So, what's going on between you and my mother? How do you know her?" She noticed the expression of suspicion in his face deepened.

"She's our faction's Diplomat Allegiant—

"I know my mother's job title, Eric. Shit, I have gone on some trips with her when I was a kid. I know who she is. I am asking you want she is… to you," she asked.

"She helped me, when I was an initiate," he answered after of moment of not cooperating with her.

"She helped you, how?"

Eric unleashed a throaty groan. She knew that he didn't like to discuss this information. But she didn't care. She stared into his eyes and waited for his answer. When a wave of silence passed them, she squeezed his hand and dug her manicured nails into the skin. His eyes narrowed and a grunt fell from his mouth.

"I'm not dropping this conversation, so you might as well answer. Or, I can leave this dancefloor right now and talk to someone who has a better skill at conversing with people," she told him. She felt like she had just invoked the spirit of her mother, afterward that tongue lashing.

His jaw twitched just as his glowed with a malevolent energy. He turned his face briefly away and he looked off to the sidelines.

"Eric," she said in a firm voice. When he didn't respond, she unleashed his hand. She made a step backwards and was about to pull away, when she felt his arm tightened around her lower back. His left hand snatched up her right hand and held it captive. Her own anger rose. She glowered.

"When I dropped from that hole and into Dauntless, I was a small, skinny kid who looked as if I didn't have a chance at all. I wasn't like the other kids. Even the female initiates had more of a weight advantage than I ever did. It made me a target."

"Bullies?" she guessed.

"No, everyone," he informed her. "My fellow initiates. My trainers. Other Dauntless members. They wanted to break me. I had my belongings stolen from my bunk, so I didn't have any clothes except for the ones that were on my back. I was constantly picked for sparring sessions and all of my opponents were stronger and more proficient with their fighting. If I fell asleep, I was attacked by my classmates. I had no friends. I had no allies. I was even considered to be a pariah for the other weak initiates. This was when the old rules were still in effect, so our initiation lasted for eight months instead of the three-and-a half months that these piss-ants will have."

"I know," she pointed out. She was a part of the 'old school way of training', which was hell. Well, hell for the other initiates. Thanks to her injuries, she was kept out of the first two months of training and when she joined up, she was handled with kid gloves.

"By the end of the second week, I wanted to die. I was tired and starving…"

'And you were afraid, weren't you?' she secretly speculated.

"…One night, I was hiding in the compound. I was hiding from a group of kids, who wanted to beat the shit out of me. I ended up in a section of the faction that I didn't know. I fell asleep in a warm corner. I woke up to find your mom standing in front of me. She didn't say anything to me at first. She smiled at me. I thought she was going to make…" He paused and his eyes narrowed with contempt. A brusque exhale was forced at his nostrils. "I thought she was going to make fun of me and then go to my trainers to report me. Instead, she just told me to follow her. I did. She ended up taking me to her office-suite. She fed me with whatever food that she had in her fridge. Then she called your dad over to bring clothes for me."

"So, my mom helped you… And my dad too?" she questioned.

"Yes."

Her eyes lit up and her spirit smiled. It had been a very long time since she heard another Dauntless member, non-related, make a reference to her father. Like Erudite and Abnegation, the faction as a whole had a very emotionally unattached way of handling grief over the deceased. She knew that Erudite loved to hide behind education and logic, when it came to handling theirs. Abnegation would equate grieving to the act of being a selfish and then they would channel all of their emotions into charity work. She had seen Dauntless members just equate grieving to being a sign of weakness and then drink themselves into stupors. It was why her family kept their grieving processes within the family circle.

"So…what happened afterwards?" she asked, now interested in his account.

"They… Helped me." His tone held a sense of finality.

She knew that he didn't trust her with any more information.

"Eric," she said before pursing her lips. "Who am I going to tell this info to…and what do you think will happen to you, if I told someone? They cannot take your title away from you, especially after you earned it…" She gave him an all-knowing smile. "…right?" She licked her bottom lip. She detected his deep observation as she done so. A blush developed in her deep, coffee-colored skin tone. "So…what happened after that night?"

"Your mother…" He sighed. "She gave me the key-code to her office's door. She told me that she will leave food in the fridge every night and all I had to do was heat it up in the lounge room. She…told me where I could find blankets and a pillow. She let me…" He sighed again as his eyes scanned the ballroom. "…She allowed me to stay in her office at night during my initiation trial. She taught me about the other factions' politics. She told me about which person to trust, in which faction and which member to keep at an arm's length. She…" There was another brusque breath from him. "There were other things that she had given me. But I will not go there with the likes of you," he groaned. "…Now in regards to your father, he was the one who taught me how to defend myself and become an official Dauntless warrior. He taught me how to use my natural instincts and my five senses to my benefit. He taught how to develop my strength and my body. He had taken me out to the Amity woods and taught me how to hunt. How to survive in those woods, in case I needed to learn. No one else. Not even my so-called trainers."

There was a short reflection about her father's training methods. She smiled while feeling warm and giddy from those memories. "I believe that you were lucky in that regard, because you learned from the best," she informed. 'Did you just give him a compliment?' her conscious teased. 'But, it's true. My father was the best.' She truly believed it. Her father had the natural talent of teaching men, women and children how to physically defend themselves. He knew how to instill more confidence in people while he taught them. He taught people based off of their emotional and mental capabilities. Plus, he taught women with care. She didn't understand how no one could see his divergence. "My father was a brilliant man, when it came to teaching people."

"Yes, he was brilliant when it came to that," Eric agreed.

She noticed his eyes look past her once more. 'He's looking at Anissa again.' She looked to her right. "Is she still looking over here?" she asked.

"Yes, she's watching."

'Okay, time to get closer.' She looked at her hand. "Let go of my hand. I want to come closer to you," she informed him.

He glanced down at her with a mask of confusion on his face. "What?"

"You want her to believe that I am your date, right? So let go of my hand, Hercules and allow me into your personal space. We have to let her believe that we're capable of fucking afterwards…" She watched his eyes widened. "…so allow me to get closer to your big, bulky ass." She freed her hand from out of his grip. In mid-step, Nasira drew closer to his large frame. Her silk-clad front pressed against the solid plank that was covered in velvet. Her hands reached around to his back where they held onto his shoulder blades. The underside of her chin rested on his right shoulder. She took note of the woodsy-spicy scent that was coming off of his clothes. "Now wrap your arms around my waist," she instructed after she took note of the lack of hold he had on her. "Now dance with me." Eric unleashed a groan in response, airing out his level of discomfort. She giggled into his neck. Her arms felt his body radiate tension. "Relax," she whispered, "jeez, you're tense…" She lifted her chin from off of his shoulder and she gazed into his eyes. "…You've never dance with a girl before?"

He didn't respond to her inquiry. He just frowned.

She smiled at him and then she returned to her resting place that made up his shoulder. She followed up with her own suggestion by relaxing against him. She felt the muscles in his arms released the tension that was stored in them. She powered down that part of her that was always thinking up the next step, the next part of the plan and she learned to appreciate the moment. She chose to listen to the slow, bluesy ballad that the band was performing. She chose to live in the rhythm of the music and the melody of the lyrics.

"…Ruler of my heart. Father of my soul.

Oh, where can you be? I wait patiently.

My heart cries out. From Pain inside.

Oh, where can you be? I wait patiently…"

Nasira recalled listening to this tune before, somewhere else. She quickly assumed that this had to be a song that her parents used to listen to, when they believed that the kids were asleep.

"…When you alone, the going gets rough…

Come back. Come back. Come back.

I had enough. Make me your queen…"

Her lips parted and the words flew out of her mouth, aligning themselves to the melody of the music. She sung while her hands dance to the rhythm of the words against a land of velvet.

"…Happy Day, Hear my Cry.

Please my king…"

Her hands slipped from his back and slithered around to his front. They pressed themselves to the front of his lapels for a beat before traveling up to his shoulders. She removed her chin from off of the broad, dense muscle so her hands could wrap around the back of his neck. Her cold fingers made contact with his heated skin. She tilted her face towards the ceiling and her eyelids shut her off from the world. The world of intoxication had taken over again. Her face grew warm while her skin slightly buzzed and felt cozy. It felt good.

"…When you're alone and the going gets rough…

Come back. Come back. Come back…"

Her plush and defined lips kept singing the lyrics to the song as their bodies swayed to the music. She tilted her head forward. Her fingernails lightly scratched at his skin in a teasing way. The grips in her hands loosened. Her fingers folded into themselves and her knuckles caressed his neck and scalp line. In the back of her mind, she acknowledged the way his hands tightened their grasps on her hips. Her feet made the initiative of closing the gap that was in between them. Her arms slid across his shoulders as she drew closer. Her face nuzzled the right hook that formed between his neck and shoulder. Her lips grazed his jawline as she numbly drew closer. The insides of her elbows wrapped around the back of his neck. Her lips moved and hummed the music's melody when there were no words left to sing. A sharp, feminine inhale fell from her lips, when she felt his fingernails scrape against the bare skin that covered the small of her back. She brought her lips to that sliver of skin that was in between his jawline and ear. They drew close. Her soft flesh grazed along the surface of his jawline as they closed in on his chin. Her lips and chin was fanned with humid air. The 'Cupid's Bow' from her top lip grazed warm, soft flesh.

Abruptly, a wave of coldness washed over her front and she felt her equilibrium being forced off-kilter. 'What?' her brain moaned, groggily. She looked around frantically. She recognized her surroundings. 'Ok, I'm in the ballroom, in Erudite. At… the… The museum…' She felt the room slowly spin like she was intoxicated. 'Wha…What just happened?!' She jogged through her memory. 'Dinner… Dancing… Dancing…Dancing with Eric… Dancing with— I was just dancing with him! Where did he go?! Why in the hell did he run off like that?!' She looked into the direction that she believed he departed into. 'What-the hell-just happened?!'

*~oMLo~*

Nasira stared at her cell phone's clock once again. It was close to midnight. She was ready to return to Dauntless, back to her apartment. Malachi already left. He decided to play the role of 'kind neighbor' by escorting an elderly, Erudite couple back home. Now with her buddy gone, she was bored. She looked at the table's occupants and announced, "Alright, who's ready to go home?" A few milliseconds later, she was greeted with a melody of negative affirmations.

"Nasira, we just got here!"

"Oh Nassy, sit down and wait a few minutes!"

"Nassy, just wait! Everybody is still having a good time!"

"Sit down and have a drink!"

She rolled her eyes and leaned further back into her chair. She planted an elbow on the table and her chin into the palm of her hand. With stinging and tired eyes, she observed her family members as they continued to celebrate. Then her eyes began to observe other party-goers.

"You look like you're ready to go."

Her eyes flickered their gaze at the figure in black, who stood next to her. It was the same figure that suddenly abandoned her on the dance floor, close to two hours ago. His fixed gaze was aimed at her while hers were focused on him. She saw his current state as being relaxed. The tie around his neck was loose and hung around his neck like a dead snake. The first four buttons of his shirt was unfastened, as well as, the buttons of his jacket. His hands were buried deep in his pockets. She believed that he gave off the appearance of being a friendly guy. But she knew better. He was far from being a friendly guy.

"Yes, I am…" She crossed her legs at the knee. "Are you willing to be a hero for the rest of the night by helping this damsel in distress?"

"You're far from a damsel…" He did a quick glimpse at the dance floor. "…Far from it." A smile appeared on his lips. "Do you need a ride home?"

"Are you willing to take me?" queried Nasira with a smile on his lips. She spotted the dark energy that swirled in his eyes. "I mean, if you don't have any plans of staying—

"I'm ready to go," he confirmed. He offered a hand to help her up.

She accepted the help and stood up. She gathered her gold clutch purse in her hand and then proceeded to say her farewells. The process took longer than she expected. Some relatives weren't allowing her to give them a quick farewell. Her brothers tried to subject her to their 'overprotective big brother' routines, once they realized that she was leaving without any of them. She disregarded the 'friendly advice' and told them to tell their mother that she left. Once she was able to depart from her family, she traveled across the ballroom and she met Eric at the entrance.

It had taken close to twenty minutes for both Dauntless members to arrive to a black, formidable vehicle that was parked in a residential neighborhood that was several blocks away from the venue. She considered his parking choice to be an odd one, especially since she knew there was valet for the dinner's guests. He unlocked the doors and deactivated the security system with a click of a button on a device that he held in his hand. She was mildly surprised with Eric's character, when he helped her enter the vehicle. But then the mild 'impressed' feeling disappeared, when she caught him ogling her breasts once more. She frowned, 'Well, there goes that decent human being thing.' He joined her in the vehicle, a minute later.

An half an hour into their traveling, she realized something. "Hey," she said softly as she stared out of the windshield. She glanced over at his profile. "I just realized that this is the longest we've been in the same room. Usually, we're in and out. It's—

"What did Anissa say to you, when you two were in the bathroom?" inquired Eric, cutting her statement off.

She sighed and settled deeper into the smooth, leather chair. "She wanted to know how I knew Patrick."

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her that we work together. Then I reminded her of the fact that we did meet once. She didn't believe me. Then she told me to stay away from him," she reported.

A whining growl escaped his mouth. She did a quick glimpse at him. She viewed the look of contempt in his face: his eyes narrowed, his jaw twitched and his nostrils flared.

"What?" she mumbled.

A rough exhaled shot from his nostrils. "Now she is going to stick to his ass like glue," he explicated.

"No she won't."

"Yes, she will."

"No, she won't."

"Yes—

"Eric, trust me on this one, okay?!" she forcefully groaned. She took a peep at him. "Don't be surprise when you see her at your doorstep tonight, after you drop me off. Or, knowing you, she'll be in your apartment in her most slut-tastic lingerie. And she is going to try to fuck you until the point that your balls will shrivel up and become atrophied."

Eric did a glance at her before turning his attention back to the road.

"What I ended up doing was make her feel distrustful of Patrick's actions. When she looked at me tonight, she didn't see me as his friend. She saw me as a chick who is trying to get with her boyfriend. She saw me as a threat. The next thing that is going to occur is she is going to ask Patrick who I am and what I mean to him. Now, she may or may not come off as a jealous psycho towards him, but she is going to ask him about me. I guarantee you that she will," she clarified to the leader. She smiled at him. "Sooo…yeah, I am on her 'Shit List' now… and thanks to your antics, she is going to make sure that she ain't going to lose you too. She's going to make sure that her scent will be the only female scent on you."

"You make it sound like she is an animal," he groaned.

She snickered. "We're all animals, honey. The only difference between us and the other animals is the fact that the other ones don't go through all of the bullshit that we humans do to ourselves." She snickered again. She heard his voice as she laughed, but she didn't pick up his comment. "Would you care to repeat that?"

Eric gave her a short stare before uttering, "And you call yourself 'Meek the Mouse'."

Her nose snorted. She shook her head. "Nah. That wasn't a self-imposed title. Kids from my childhood gave me that nickname. It's really an insult, but I guess people didn't pick up on that one." She gave him a sideways glance just as her legs crossed over. "As you can see, I am not meek at all…" She stared out of the front passenger window, at the passing scenery. "Now, I can see why folks think that I am quiet as a mouse. But they confuse my silence with the act of shyness. I am introverted. If I am quiet, then that's because I choose to be quiet. I know it seems… impossible for a Dauntless figure to be silent. Being quiet allows me to read people's body language. How many times have you seen a person, back in Dauntless, get their asses handed to them because of something that they've said or done, at the moment?" She glanced at the driver.

A knowing smile crossed his lips. "Plenty of times."

"Well, being quiet allows me the privilege of reading another person's body language. It allows me to see the tight…" She reached across the cabin of the truck and her fingertips grazed his jawline. "…ness of their jaws…" She watched Eric tilt his head to the side, to remove his jaw from her grasp. She giggled and withdrew her hand from out of his personal space. "The flaring of their nostrils when they're angry. The tightness in their shoulders and arms, as if they are about to jump out of their seats. I can feel their auras. I can read people. Not a lot of people in Dauntless can, though. They're too busy climbing buildings and getting random shit tattooed on their bodies."

The truck's cabin filled up with silence, but this time it was a comfortable sense of silence. It was the type of silence that she shared with either Malachi or her relatives.

"What's that?" she heard Eric announced, destroying their moment of silence.

"What's what?" she murmured as she eyed the world outside of the SUV.

A millisecond later, her breath was forced into her throat and was trapped there. Her left knee unleashed a ticklish ripple and her leg jolted. Her body did an involuntary flinch against the black leather chair. She followed her instinct, which was having her right leg cross over and cover her left kneecap. Heat, tougher skin that wasn't her own greeted the inside curve of her right thigh.

'IT'S HIS HAND!' her brain screamed. 'GET HIS HAND OFF OF YOU!'

Her hands reached down and attempted to remove his hand from off of her knee. But he tightened his hold, which set off a reaction in her right thigh. Her leg squeezed on his hand. Her brain, still frazzled and not functioning completely, did not recognize her leg's actions as her own. So her hands continued to try to remove his offending hand.

"Calm yourself!" he grunted. "I am only looking at the scar on your knee! Now, can you release my hand from your… grip?! I can't continue to drive like this."

Her legs lessened their grip as did her hands. She viewed his hand slither away and go back to holding the steering wheel. As she straightened her dress, she said "The last time I've checked, you don't need your hands to see something, Eric!" She crossed her arms under her bosom and kissed her teeth. She had gone back to staring out of the window.

"So…You're not going to answer my question?" he queried after a bit of silence.

She glimpsed at him. "What was your question?"

"I asked you about the scar that is on your knee. How did you get it?"

Her eyes stared at the object of interest. Despite having no light in the car, she could see the thick keloid scar. She recalled the promise that one of the surgeons made to her, about the scar's impending appearance.

'It won't be as wide, in diameter, as the size of your thumb and it won't be longer than your knee.'

Her left set of fingers reached out for it. Her fingertips caressed the smooth textured surface. "I got it from the accident," she confessed. "My knee was torn up so bad that they needed to work on it while they worked on my head."

"You guys were found in an embankment, in Amity" mentioned Eric. "Why were you in that faction on that day?"

"He took me there, to show me around. While we were there we met up with my brother and with my mom's family."

"So you were visiting?"

"Yes, but we were also there because my father wanted to show me around. My parents knew that I was going to choose Amity, on Choosing Day, so he wanted to show me around."

A loud guffaw entered the close quarters. "Amity? Why did you want to go to Amity? Why not Erudite? Or even Candor? I can definitely see you in both of those factions. But definitely, not in Amity."

"If you haven't notice, Eric, I don't fit in with the Dauntless culture," she informed him.

The leader sniggered. "You don't fit in because you chose not to fit in. During your initiate stage, you barely interacted with your peers unless you had to!" he pointed out. He threw her a quick glimpse. "When you didn't have to spar, throw a knife, shoot a gun at practice or participate in weight-lifting sessions, you would disappear in the compound until it was time for your bedtime. You would hide up in your mom's apartment or stay holed up in the database library."

Nasira stared at him with wide eyes. "How did you—

"I know?" He glanced at her. "Is that what you were going to ask me?" He returned his attention to the road. "I knew about your whereabouts because I am your leader, and at the time, I was the one who looked over every initiate. I had to know every single thing about you initiates. Now answer this question: why Amity? You're intelligent enough, you could've gone to Erudite. You said that you like to read people, you would've had a great ol' time in Candor! But you wanted to go to Amity. Why?"

"Because… I belonged there. When I was a kid, my mom would send my brothers and me over to my aunt's house for a few weeks, when school was out. Whenever we would go, it felt like home to me. The people accepted me—

"It's probably because those hippies were high off of weed and that damn bread," he interjected.

She scowled at him. "Would you like for me to continue? Or would like to interrupt me some more?"

"I'm sorry," he said in a snarky tone. "Proceed."

"In regards to choosing another faction to go, I love to learn, but at my own pace, so Erudite was not the place for me. Besides, I don't want to live in a place, where folks are treating gossip like it's a narcotic. Can you imagine them with actual drugs? Candor looks boring to me, so I can imagine just how fun that place can be. Abnegation? We are not even going to go there. So Amity it was…" She pursed her lips. "Until that damned deer ruined it all."

"A deer caused the accident?"

"Yup," she sighed. "My dad was driving, when a deer shot out from the side of the road and ran into the road. My dad avoided it, but he lost control of his truck. The truck first drove off of the road and down a steep hill. The front of the vehicle had struck a large boulder, which caused the truck to flip over the rock and land on steeper hill. My dad's truck did a few more flips as it traveled down the hill and eventually became stuck in an embankment, upside-down…"

"Shit," he hissed.

"…I was unconscious during those flips down the hill, but I did wake up afterwards. It was dark. I remember…Smelling water and blood and mildew. The seatbelt straps were digging into my skin. My leg was hurting so-fucking-much. My dad…" Her fingers lightly scratched at her neck. "…he was struggling to breathe. I couldn't see him. But I heard him. I remember the urge to go to sleep. I remember remembering a lesson that I learned about head injuries and concussions, about wanting to go to sleep, but not to fall asleep. So, I tried to stay awake. So, I listened to my dad. The gagging did stop… eventually. He was strangled by the straps from his seatbelt. His shoulder in his left arm was dislocated and his right arm was…practically non-existent at the time. It was why he wasn't able to save himself." She had fallen silent. Her fingertips still rubbed at the scarred flesh. "I'm surprised that I am not factionless, actually."

"Your mother wouldn't have allowed it," he pointed out. "Besides, you not being able to be present at your aptitude test and your Choosing Day is not your fault."

She sworn to herself that she heard a mild level of empathy in his voice. "Mmmm," she hummed. "I don't think my mom's clout could've protected me, if it did happen…" She peered over at his profile. "Faction over blood, remember?"

"Mmmm," he groaned. "We say it, but I believe that not many people really believe in it."

"If that was the case, then we wouldn't have fucking babies living on the streets, Eric," she pointed out as her fingers combed her thick locks away from her face.

"If that was the case, then my ass would've been one of the factionless…." His eyes did a brief glimpse at her. "…I was so close to being cut from the initiation, when I was saved by your mom. If everybody believed in the 'faction before blood' creed, then your parents wouldn't have took me under their wings, Nasira. Also, you and your brothers wouldn't have been able to have those lovely summer vacations in Amity, if your parents believed in the 'Faction before blood' creed."

She glanced at the faction leader. "So, you don't believe in it?" she asked him.

"Do you?"

"No, but I think you already know that," she answered.

"My answer is 'No'. But I didn't learn this until I was in Dauntless."

"Your parents weren't…"

He sighed. "No." There was more silence. "For your final score? You know that you could've received a higher one, if you applied yourself."

She shrugged her shoulders. "I am happy with my final score. I made it into Dauntless. I'm not living in the streets, in the Factionless territories. So, I'm happy." Her mother's advice from many years ago filled up her mind. 'Baby, listen to me: do not stand out during your initiation trials, okay? I haven't steered you wrong yet, have I? I want you to listen to your trainers, but just do enough to get you pass the cutting block. Okay? I know that you're hurting right now and you miss your dad. We all miss him, baby. I just need you to stay strong. And be smart, okay? No one is going to take you away from us.'

Her eyes cut over to Eric. 'Apparently, I wasn't as discreet as I thought out to be.' Nasira did a sideways glance at the man. Her eyes took in the unorthodox hairstyle, the clean-shaven face and the high cheekbones.

"What?" He didn't bother to look at her.

A thought popped up in her head. "Have you ever thought about not dealing with Anissa anymore? You said that you've given her an ultimatum already and nothing change. Have you ever considered just… ending it?"

The mood darkened so abruptly that she physically felt it change. A strong chill clung to her skin while goose pimples dotted her.

"No," he snarled.

"No?"

"That's what I said: No," he groaned.

She wanted to ask him for his reasoning. She had a hunch, an assumption. Instead she asked another question. "Have you always liked her?"

"Yes." His answer was precise and short.

"Did you two know each other while you were in Erudite?"

"Yes." He rolled his shoulders thrice. "But Dauntless is our home now."

"Did y'all—

"Stop," he murmured.

She clamped her mouth shut. She turned her attention back to the windshield.

"All you need to know is that if things go according to our plans, you and that bumbling bore will be together soon," he pointed out.

'Ah-ha, if you only knew, Eric.'

*~oMLo~*

"If you see a mess, please excuse it," she warned him as she tapped in the sequence of numbers that unlocked her front door.

"I have to take a major piss. I don't have time to look around," Eric told her as he stood behind her, invading her personal space.

Once she heard the familiar 'beeping' noise, she opened the door and quickly trotted into the apartment. She moved out of the way and allowed the bulky man to enter her home. In long strides, he entered her living room and quickly scanned the room. Once he spotted the entrance to the hallway, which was on the other side of the spacious room, he walked in that direction.

"The bathroom is the first door on the right!" she shouted at his retreating, broad back.

"I know! They built all of these apartments the fucking same!" was his response as he entered the dark hallway. Once he found the lavatory, he entered and slammed the door shut. The sound echoed.

"Alright-y, then" she sang as she closed her front door.

Nasira had taken a few steps into her apartment before she came to a stop, so she could peel her shoes off. Her feet screamed out in appreciation. "Oooh finally!" she moaned while flexing her right foot. She dropped her shoes off next to her couch as she made her way over to the windows. Her curtains were still drawn, so she proceeded to close them.

"Haunt me

In my dreams

If you please

Your breath is with me now and always

It's like a breeze…"

The lyrics floated out of the woofers that were parts of her speakers and they clung onto the air. The fringe of recognition tickled at her mind, and soon, she was singing along with Sade. Her fingers clutched the thick and soft material of the curtains.

"…So should you ever doubt me

If it's help that you need

Never dare to doubt me…"

Her eyes stared out at the world that was presented on the other side of the windowpanes. She surveyed the pavement that was four stories below and the structures that surrounded the area. She spotted a few passersby as they walked by. Her lips continued to recite the song.

"…Like an angel

As quiet as your soul could be

If you only knew

You had a friend like me…"

Her eyes looked away from the street and sidewalks to observe the building that was directly across the street from hers. It was another apartment building but only contained two floors. Most of the apartments' windows were displaying sheets of darkness. There were a few windows that displayed living rooms and their occupants.

"…So should you ever doubt me

If it's help that you need

Never dare to doubt me…"

She listened to the wailing saxophone as it carried the song out. Her eyes were focused on a couple as they sparred in their living room's floor, when she remembered that Eric was still using her bathroom. 'Oh shit! I totally forgotten about him!' She pulled away from her window and drew the black curtain across, closing off the outside world. She had taken a few steps backwards and then turned to face her living room. 'Let me go see—Oh shit!'

Nasira received a fright, when she turned around and discovered Eric in her living room. He was close to where she was standing. Very close. It was to the point where she could make out the detailed tattoos that decorated the skin on his forearms, which was another thing that she noticed about his close proximity.

'Ah…' She couldn't think of anything appropriate to say to him. She was still marveling at how quiet his footsteps were as he traveled from the bathroom to where she was standing. "Um… Eric?" she whimpered. She saw the energy in his eyes flicker. They had gone from being dimly-lit to full-on, ablazed. "I didn't hear you come in here," she said softly.

His current demeanor was throwing her off. He wasn't himself. Or perhaps, this was one side of the leader that she hasn't seen. Whatever the case was, she didn't want to deal with him when he was behaving this way. She didn't like the fact that she couldn't get a decent read off of his body language. Plus, there were the sensations that he was making her body feel at the moment. 'Time to show him the door,' her conscience suggested.

"Let me show you to the door," she announced as she made glances at him and to the door. She didn't wait for him to make a response, she made her way from the windows and from him. She was about to round the sofa end of her sectional, when she felt flesh wrap around her right wrist and then an invisible force around her waist. She lost control of her body and her feet stumbled against the cold wooden floorboards. Pressure formed against her stomach as she was propelled forward. Her shoulders and her back ended up colliding with one of her living room's walls. It was the wall that held her desk and chair. Lashes of pain ran across her shoulders and down her back upon impact. Her eyes were filled with the sight of a Dauntless leader, clad in black. He invaded her personal territory with aggressive steps and a wicked glower in his azure eyes.

Nasira believed that she wasn't fit for Dauntless, but it didn't stop her from being brave by lashing out at the big, bulky jerk who just assaulted her. "You fucking ass—

She managed to cut off her own words, when the abrasive sound of skin striking skin filled the air. Her right hand immediately stung after it made a collision with his face. Her right hand had gone back for more. Her open palm swung at his face again and he dodged the blow. So she quickly swung her left hand at his face and this appendage managed to hit its target. Like her right, her left hand exploded with the sensation of having thousands of tiny invisible needles poke at the sole. She ignored the odd sensation and continued to defend herself. She pushed at his broad chest. Her shove didn't have any impact on his frame. But his shove did have a powerful impact on her smaller frame. Once again her back and shoulders collided with the wall. He didn't give her the chance to strike him again. His right hand snatched her smaller ones in a tight grip and he guided both appendages to the space above her head. With both of her main weapons gone, he easily stepped into her territory again. She struggled against him.

"Eric," she breathed. She eyed him warily. "What are you doing?" She watched his face draw closer. A trembling whine fell from her lips as she felt his warm breath fan her cheeks, lips and chin. "What are you—?

"Where is that girl that—

Her brow crumpled. "What girl?" she whimpered. "What are you talking about?"

"Where is that girl that I was dancing with earlier tonight? The one who was dancing with me and singing to me?"

"What?" she said in a huff.

She felt his left hand grab a hold of her right hip. His thick, long fingers did a firm squeeze and proceeded to commit a slow ascension towards her waist. His fingers fanned out against her curve and then rubbed themselves against the warm, silken fabric. She squirmed as his thumbnail made appreciative swipes at the outer curve of her right breast.

"Where is she?" he questioned again. "Is she still here?"

"I don't know what you-you mean," she declared. Her dark brown eyes focused on his cold ones. She detected no form of warmth in them, no inkling of compassion. "Eric. I—Aaaa…" Her voice abruptly morphed into a high-pitched, mortified gasp.

His left hand slithered from her waist and now filled its palm up with her right mound of flesh. He ignored her wordless pleas for release as he kneaded the heavy tit in his hand. His fingers sought after the hardened flesh that he was sure that was going to be there. After making several clumsily attempts and gaining several failures, she knew that he reached his breaking point with his patience. His fingers curled over the edge of the cowl neck collar and he pulled down, hard. The small sounds of fabric tearing and thread snapping filled her ears. Her head bowed and she peered down. He ripped her dress' collar. The intricate layout of the collar was now disrupted.

A growl-like, smug laugh escaped his throat. "So you're Dauntless after all," he taunted as fingertip traced the outer ridge of the gold barbell earring that decorated her right nipple. The tip of his nose traced the ridge of her jawline. He brought his lips to her left ear. "Do you have any more?" he whispered.

"Eric, please let—

"Ssshhhh," he hissed in her ear just as his fingers molded to the swell of her breast. He kneaded and massaged the mound while his fingertips occasionally sought after the pierced nipple.

"Eric," she breathed. She made a deep inhale when she felt his probing hand reach up to her throat and grab with a firm yet non-lethal grasp.

"Tell me," he grunted before lining the slope of her neck with kisses.

His fingers slipped into her thick mane and did a full tug. Her scalp released pleas for mercy while her head was pulled back. A hiss slithered pass her clenched teeth. Soon, she felt lips mark its territory on her throat and the underside of her chin. His grip in her head gave her a little bit of slack. She felt grateful for the action, embarrassingly enough. Her lips throbbed when she felt his lips hover above. He would occasionally dipped down and graze hers in a teasing manner.

"Tell me. Is she still here? The one that was so willing to kiss me back…"

It hit her as if it was a sack of money that fell from the sky: the purpose of his bizarre questioning.

"…at Erudite, as we dance? Does she still want me?" he asked her. His fingers released the tuft of hair and crawled down to her throat, where he caressed the sensitive layer of flesh. "Is she still here?" he asked, as she shivered underneath his hand's ministrations.

Nasira silently prayed that Eric couldn't detect her current state. Somehow, her arousal was awakened. It approached fast and sudden like an impromptu, passing thunderstorm. It bloomed somewhere between the incidents of when his hands captured her wrists and when his hand roughly pawed at her dress. By the time she felt his fingers had shown adoration to her chest, a full-fledged fire was burning up her spirit.

"Eric…" she softly cried out. His fingers found its way underneath her dress. His fingertips danced along the seam of her panties and slipped underneath the sheet of thin lace. His knuckles traced her seam, slathering themselves in her nectar. One particular digit felt the need to give her clit a welcoming nudge with every probing swipe. Her short and shrilled gasp escaped her throat as a bolt of pleasure shook her. Her eyes shot open and then withered down to a squint. "Yes," she confessed, a few seconds later. "She's here," she moaned against his lips.

There was a groan, but his lips took her focus away, a short second later. She whimpered with relief as she felt his warm and soft lips plant themselves on hers. The urge to touch his face and to run her fingers through his hair licked at her fingers. She had gone to reach from him and she realized that her wrists were still captured. A second later, air wrapped around her wrists like a pair of cuffs. Her hands were free from captivity and she took advantage of their current status. Her fingers wrapped around the back of his neck and gripped his face. She threw force behind her kisses. He pushed her further into the wall just as his thick tongue pushed its way into her mouth. Both of their moans were swallowed up by each other.

As their kisses deepened, her fingernails lightly scratched at his neck before leaving an invisible trail down to his chest. Her fingers gave the lapels of his lavish jacket a gently tug before they dipped into the jacket. With the urging her fingers, he removed with his jacket without making a sound of reservation. The collar and the buttons of his shirt were the next items that were subjected to her fingers' attention. Her fingernails scraped against the hard surfaces of the plastic buttons as she unfastened them from their slots. The shirt soon followed and joined his jacket on the floor.

As her fingers worked on stripping him from his clothes, his hands sought after the material that was hiding underneath her now-tattered dress. The thick, callused fingers pawed at the scrap of lace until they were pulled away from his sought-after prize. Just as his fingers slipped past the fleshy, dense barrier that made up her thighs, her fingers found her own prize. Her living room was filled with sounds of handmade pleasure.

"Fuck," she heard him moan, during a brief intermission from kissing.

The fact that she was able to make this intimidating leader moan, a sign of his vulnerability, made her ego blush. It also made her inner walls pulsate and pumped out fresh nectar. Her hand stroked at the turgid skin that was his manhood with vigor. A stream of moans were pressed into her lips. A few seconds later, it was her turn after his fingers made a caress and struck certain niche in her.

His tongue found its way to her neck, where it licked at her skin. Her left hand held onto his neck while her head tilted to the side. A hard surface nudged at her left temple and she opened her eyes. Her vision was filled the sight of a wooden plank. It was the side that was a part of her desk's shelf. Her eyes darted over to the chair that was positioned in front of it. An idea flashed in her mind and it caused her cunt's walls to squeeze on his probing fingers.

"Mmmm," he groaned into her neck. His lips unlatched. "I can't wait to feel you on my di—

"I want you…on the chair," she confessed.

She felt vibration against her neck and shoulder as he chuckled. "How freaky of you," he teased. He gave her a chaste kiss. He brought his lips close to her ear. "And I like it." He stood upright and had taken a few backward steps. He glanced over his right shoulder, at the wooden straight-back chair that was a foot away. He gave her smoldering gaze as he traveled over to the chair. Once in front of the furniture piece, his hands pushed his slacks and underwear further down his thighs, revealing flesh to her lust-hungry eyes. He took on an unperturbed stance in the chair: his long legs were slightly bent at the knee and leaned off to the side while his back pressed up against the wooden back of the chair. His head was tilted slightly while there a glaze of amusement covering his face.

With trembling thighs and even shakier sex, Nasira took demure steps over to where he was sitting. Her fingers tugged and pulled on the dress until it slid down her body. Her gaze were focused on every bit of him as she traveled from the wall. She surveyed his muscled torso, the thick columns that he called legs and his manhood, all of which were proudly on display. Her line of sight lingered on the thick muscle and on the pair of heavy sacs that hung below. Her eyes' action did not go unnoticed as his hand gripped his shaft and began pumping lazy strokes.

"Come over here."

Her eyes focused on his face and viewed the arrogant smirk that was etched on his face. She caught the sensation of being busted. Despite being wrapped in a blanket of arousal, her consciousness was aware of the insignificant case of embarrassment that she felt. She pressed on with her actions. Once she approached, her hands grabbed onto the back of the chair while her strong legs straddled his hips as he sat. A strong shiver floated through her as she made contact with his bare body. Her legs wrapped around the back of the chair, in effect trapping him in between her thighs. She watched him jerk his upper body forward, into her personal space and into her embrace. Both pair of lips made contact just as her arms wrapped around his neck. His hands slid down to her hips and held on. He held her over his hardness and subjected her weeping slit to his prick's curious swipes.

"Aaaaa-mmm," she moaned against his lips. Her face tilted to the ceiling and she sung her song of pleasure. Her chin felt his lips brush against and kiss. "Aaah, you feel so good," she breathed.

"Wait until you feel the real thing," he spoke in a husky tone. A grunt was spoken into her chin. "Are you ready for me, baby?"

She bit into her bottom lip and nodded her head. "Mmm-hmm," she moaned.

A kiss was administered to her chin. "Put me in," he instructed. His hands forced her hips to stop moving. He pulled himself from out of her embrace, leaned back against the chair and became a spectator.

Nasira unlocked her legs from around the back of her chair and settled her feet on the floor. Her left hand gripped the back of the chair while her right hand softly rested on his left shoulder. Her hips lifted slightly so her right hand could reach in between their bodies. Her fingers wrapped around the base of his shaft and held him erect while she subjected him to her warmth. Both lovers moaned out upon impact.

'So full,' her brain cried out as she marveled at the sensation of being stretched out. Her sight searched for his reaction and she was blessed with the image of a serene Eric. He faced the ceiling with his eyes closed and his lips slightly parted. His brow ridge was crumpled and nostrils flared. Her lips formed a smile. Laughter reached her lips when she watched his facial features morph into a look of pleasure after he bottomed out and she gave his member a firm tug.

"Oh God, you feel so fucking good," he groaned from deep in his throat. His hips surged forward, a movement urging her to move.

Once her right hand grabbed onto the back of the chair, she complied with his hips' request and soon afterwards, the living room was serenaded with the sounds that their bodies made. The walls were subjected to the melodies of curses, moans and grunts from both mouths. The abrasive noises of their bodies slapping against each other as they merged into one being. The ceiling was subjected to the soundtrack of the chair's legs scraping up against the floor, a reaction to their fast fucking.

She was far from a virgin, but this kind of sex was a new experience for Nasira. Pleasure had gripped her in its red-hot hands and wouldn't let go. It squeezed and squeezed until she felt light-headed and sweltering.

"Eric," she loudly cried out as her body was seized with another orgasm. With her feet planted on the cold floor and her hands on the chair, her pelvis subjected his member with deep strokes that slipped him deeply into her womb. Her forehead pressed itself against his. Her lips planted short, soft kisses on his lips. She kept moving against his hardness even as her quadriceps burned from exertion.

"Fuck!" he grunted just as a hand came crashing down on her ample ass.

A roar of carnal satisfaction grabbed her attention. Her feet suddenly left the floor and were airborne. Her legs wrapped around his hips, out of instinct. Seconds later, her lower back was tapped by a hard surface and then her ass. 'Desk,' her instincts called out to her. She leaned back slightly and her hands held onto his shoulders. Her eyes opened. She was indeed sitting on her desktop. She viewed the body that stood in between her thighs, thrusting pleasure into both of their bodies. Her line of sight zeroed in on the union of their bodies. Her eyes dilated with carnal-infused glee when she spotted his prick piston out of her gash. His shaft was slathered with her lust's evidence. Just the sight of their joining together caused her womb to contract.

Her eyes fluttered close. "Ah," she moaned loudly as her head sank back. It ended butting up against the shelf.

"You're so tight," he grunted into her throat. His teeth skimmed the surface. His tongue soothed the burning edge that his teeth left. His hips slowed their pace just as his lips latched onto the left breast. His lips dotted the outer curves with kisses and then his teeth left a trail of marks. His mouth suckled on the pierced nub with energy. His hips danced in slow circles against her sex, driving his member to be deeply nestled in her warmth and tapping nerve-filled points that she didn't know existed.

"Eric," she mewled as his mouth latched onto her right nipple. Her fingers sifted through the sweaty strands of his locks. Her fingernails did an inadvertent scratch against his scalp. It earned her cunt the opportunity of receiving a sharp thrust. She cried out and tugged on his hair. She received another sharp thrust from his hips. Her body greedily and happily accepted the treatment was waiting for more. "Hard," she whispered. "Hard… Hard… Hard… Hard…" she chanted.

Her lover growled as he took a handful of her hair. His other hand painfully gripped her right hip. He drew her ass to the edge of the desk. He forced his glans to butt up against the opening of her cervix. She winced when a fringe of discomfort tapped her in the lower belly. Her sex-soaked gash quivered in disappointment when it felt his taut member unsheathed itself. Her sex wept in joy and clenched from discomfort, when his member reintroduced himself in the form of a strong thrust. Sound was caught in her throat and she could only breathe.

Eric sank his teeth into her shoulder and proceeded to give her body the pleasure that she wanted. His hips altered their pace. Her body was subjected to strokes that reached deeply but were slow with sharp punctuations. His groin would slap up against her clit, emitting tiny explosions of pleasure. His body's movements made the desk jerk up against the wall and the knick-knacks on the shelf to tremble.

"I'm…I'm… Oh shit, I'm…" she groaned into the top of his head.

"Let go, baby," he grunted.

At his command, her body had gone rigid and tight with climatic fissures. Her fingernails dug into his sweaty shoulders and her hands gripped onto them. Her legs tightened around his waist, drawing his prick deeper into her body. Her mouth sung a trembling wail. In submergence, her conscious was aware of his body's unraveling. His hips released choppy, stilted thrusts and his throat unleashed a stream of grunts.

"Ah…Ah-knee… Anissa, fuck!"

It was a sharp, lust-driven moan. It managed to cut through Nasira's subconscious thoughts and then obliterate the severed remains. Before she could react to his cry, she was rendered completely immobile by his upper body's weight.

'He said… I think he just said her name. Did he think that he was with her throughout this whole time?! He did, didn't he? He's such a fucking asshole!'

The curve of her left ear felt his lips brush up against it, in a gentle absentminded kiss. His mouth moved to her left temple, where another kiss was planted. He peppered the side of her exposed face. Nasira thought of the possibility that Eric was aware of his mouth's snafu. This was his way of trying to make her forget about it. Her face frowned up. Twelve minutes ago, when he was still buried deep in her, she would've believed that his kisses were sensual. Now, it just annoyed her. It was annoying as a buzzing mosquito that would fly around one's ear.

"Get off," she hissed, making her level of annoyance known. Her hands brushed his face away from hers. Then she realized that she sounded as if she was his spurned girlfriend. She gave his face a sideways glance and she repeated her request in a softer tone. She expected from the natural-ornery leader to give her an attitude. Instead, his hand slipped in between their bodies and helped his manhood to eject from her warmth. She whimpered at the sensation of traveling pressure leaving her. She was then subjected to one of infamous lingering glares. He had taken a step away from her. When she was awarded with the opportunity, she hopped off of her desk and she walked out of the danger zone that was Eric's personal bubble.

Her feet's quick trot had taken her to the other side of the living room, to the hallway. She quickly made her way to the bathroom, where she barricaded herself inside. Once alone in the smaller room, she was struck with the gravity of the situation. She just had sex with Eric Coulter, a man who happened to be one of the leaders of their faction. He just so happened to be the same man who she was conspiring with. Then she was reminded of the fact that she just experienced condom-less sex with him, when she felt his seed drip down her thighs. Suddenly, her skin began to dramatically itch and plea for relief, which was in the form of a long shower. Nasira did not wait for the shower water to warm up, she stepped in and proceeded to wash off the evidence of their union. As she showered, the hope of Eric's departure from her home popped up in her mind.

Fortunately for Nasira, when she entered the living room, thirty minutes later, she was alone. Eric had taken her silent departure from the living room afterwards, as his sign to get dress and leave. However, as she stood in the center of her living room, she still felt his presence in her home. She still smelled his strong scent in the room, along with the scent of their sex and her perfume. The thick humidity that built up during their time together managed to wrap around her freshly-washed skin, like a blanket. To her, he was physically gone, but his soul was still there. She decided that she wouldn't rest until she cleaned every surface in her living room.

The young woman proceeded to clean every hard surface that was in the living room and kitchenette area until it filled with the sickly-sweet and pungent scents of cleaning fluid. It was close to dawn, when she slid herself in bed. She fell asleep with the notion that physical traces of the previous night's activities were eradicated like the germs that they were.

Unbeknownst to the twenty-three year old, there was one trace of Eric Coulter left and it was about to form inside of her womb.

*~oMLo~*

Meh! Quit thinking about him!' her conscience instructed.

Nasira rolled onto her back and she grimaced in discomfort. Her sudden action caused fifteen pounds worth of pressure to drop down on her stomach and chest. A few seconds later, she felt more pressure fluttering about inside of her. Her hands touched at her bulging belly and she tracked the movement. She lifted her head off of her comfy pillow and she panned down at the large bump that rested on her stomach. "Sorry for the moving around, buddy" she said to her stomach. She dropped her head back down. Her eyes focused on the ceiling as her hands caressed her stomach's skin. "I'm sorry for everything else too, Lucien."

Approximately two months and six days after that impromptu romp, Nasira learned that her time with the Dauntless leader was going to be a lot more important than she believed it to be. She was in a doctor's waiting room, for her annual physical exam. It was her treating physician, who revealed the news that she was expecting. Of course, she was shocked and it was her shock that led her to go into a state of denial. She thought that the doctor was wrong and it was an error on his behalf. 'Perhaps, he has my blood test results mixed up with another woman's,' was her conclusion. She chose to hold onto that thought.

It wasn't until she was given an ultrasound procedure and she came face-to-face with her occupied uterus, when she came to accept the truth. She was pregnant and Eric was the man who was partly responsible. The notion of having another human being develop in her body left her with a multitude of emotions: shock, fear, anxiety, confusion and then back to fear.

Once she left the clinic and proceeded to walk home, she pondered about the existence of her baby. She didn't know how this all came to be. Well, she knew how babies were created and how to avoid making those babies, but she didn't know how this baby came to be. Since the end of her last relationship, she was a happy recipient of the P-67, a birth control serum that control her cycle for two years. She had to go to Erudite to have the drug administered, intravenously. So, she didn't understand how she ended up pregnant.

It wasn't until she reached her home and after she read up on the P-67 drug, when she discovered the answer to that inquiry. A few months prior, she had to partake in an antibiotics regimen after contracting an infection from a wound on the bottom of her foot. The antibiotics caused the birth control serum to become ineffective, which meant that she was fertile again. Three weeks after ingesting the antibiotics, she had her sexual encounter with Eric.

Nasira came up with her decision to keep her unborn child, before the week was over. She decided against having an abortion and she wasn't going to place her baby up for adoption as well. She was going to become a mother. The young woman knew that this was going to be a "once-in a-lifetime" experience, ever since she knew there was no way that she would ever fall in love again. She had a horrible taste in men and she had bad luck, when it came to finding mates. She knew this fact and she accepted it. Now the only man that she had to deal with was her child's father and she didn't know how he was going to handle this.

A week after her life-changing decision, she met up with Eric. This time, the meeting had taken place in his office, under the ruse that his desktop computer needed repairs. Once she was summoned by his personal secretary and as she traveled to his office-suite, she made the decision that she was going to notify him about the baby's existence. However, once she stepped foot into his office, her cowardice took over. As she stared at him, as he sat behind his desk, she realized that she couldn't say anything. She just stared dumbly at him and just listened to him. She allowed him to interrogate her. When she needed to answer his questions, she just gave him one-word answers. When he dismissed her from his dwelling, she breathed a sigh of relief.

For the rest of her first trimester and the beginning of her second trimester, their interactions were treated in similar fashion, except her personal style purposely changed and she worn clothes that were frumpy. When she began to show and her belly began to expand, she changed up her actions. The secret meetings stopped. Nasira would feign illnesses. Or she would have co-workers lie to Eric's secretary about having days off, when the woman would call her work phone. Or she would avoid walking pass places that she knew that Eric could jump out and force her into. She was aware that she couldn't do this for long and that he would find out about her pregnancy. After all, he did work closely with her mother.

It was indeed through her mother, in which he was notified about Nasira's pregnancy. At one of the leaders' bi-monthly meetings with the ambassadors, Max had publicly congratulated the Grant matriarch for being a grandmother again. Then like most happy grandmothers, Mrs. Grant proceeded to talk about Nasira's progress.

Once her mother told her about her "exciting day" over the phone that night, Nasira expected Eric to show up to her doorstep. She expected the leader to show up and raise hell. She knew that he would try to intimidate her with his cold glares and his well-known act of invading her personal space. She barely received any sleep on that night. Or the next few nights that followed. She expected for the Dauntless leader to do something.

Instead, she received nothing from him. In fact, every bit of interaction stopped. There weren't any phone calls. The secret meetings that occurred in neglected caverns had stopped. She wasn't pulled into darkened alleyways and utility closets anymore. He stopped all forms of communication. She eventually came to the assumption that Eric decided to abandon his plans of destroying Anissa's relationship.

She believed this… up until a day ago.