The fight had been over for about 4 hours now and everyone had vacated the room. Tris had spent the evening with Four, going over fight maneuvers and talking about what tattoo she should get next. Peter on the other hand was in dismay. Sitting in his dorm room, he repeated the fight in his head over and over again. Each time leaving him with a new emotion. First anger, then confusion, shock, relief, happiness…Why did he let her win? He was so close, yet something inside him made him stop. Whether Peter knew it yet or not, when he looked into those eyes of hers, he didn't see a Stiff, he saw a beauty, a girl who did not deserve to be hurt the way he was about to hurt her. He couldn't live with himself if he had continued.

Peter was confused, yes, but Tris was absolutely dumbfounded.

There had been a brief moment when Tris was still laying on the floor bleeding, watching Peter walk out of the room. As he walked away she noticed him turn around just long enough to lock eye contact with her. He whipped around and hurried away, but not before she saw his face turn every shade of red imaginable. Many days had passed, and Tris had fully submerged herself into her training. She could not let her relationships with meaningless boys influence her real purpose for being in Dauntless. She had to prove herself to everyone, show her skills and abilities. If she didn't, she didn't want to think about what could happen…
She had managed to avoid all and any drama for those few days, but it could only last for so long. Monday morning came, and she was up before anyone else. Lately her sleeping did not last too long, maybe it was nerves or too much running through her mind. While everyone else rested, she was up at 5am everyday without fail. Tris made her way through the Cavern towards the dining hall. The sun was not yet up, the only thing lighting her way through the tunnels were dim lamps mounted along the walls. She had just walked into the hall when she noticed a figure sitting at the far end of a table on the right hand side.

"Who else could possibly be up at this time?" She thought to herself

As she walked towards the figure she attempted to make out their features. Dark hair, medium stature, hunched with their head in their hands. They must have heard footsteps because they turned and looked at her as she walked closer. She stopped in her tracks, it was him.

A minute of silence has gone by, neither one has moved. Tris turns around preparing to get as far away from Peter as possible when- she feels a hand on her shoulder. Her immediate reaction is to shake it off as she turns her body around with a fist aiming directly for his head. Maybe she was still half asleep but her reflexes weren't fast enough. Instead she found herself face to face with Peter and her fist caught in mid air. He slowly released.

With their faces only inches apart, Peter spoke. "We need to talk".

"I don't know what you could possibly have to say to me, I'm leaving"
"Shut up Tris, I have something to say"

Did, Peter just use her first name? She thought. He never had called her by her name before, it was always Stiff or some other wanna-be-clever insult.

"Fine" she said, "what"
"We both know I let you win the other day, so don't get ahead of yourself, I won't let it happen again"
"Question is, why did you let it happen the first time?"
"That's not the point"
"Then what is Peter?"
Peter sighs, "The point is that…you're distracting me. I'm trying to win here Tris, and I don't need you getting in my head. Making me sacrifice my reputation!"
"I didn't make you do anything, don't get mad at me or you have something else coming for you"

Peter takes a step closer to Tris, "Oh yeah? Was that a threat Stiff?"
She could feel his breath on her face, stunned by his movement she found herself out of words to say.
Before she came to her senses and could think of a witty comeback, she found herself staring into the eyes of someone she's never seen before. The person in front of her had changed in an instant. It wasn't a ruthless and conceded boy anymore, no, it was a genuine and vulnerable one who's hand had made it's way back to her shoulder and now her cheek.

What was happening? Was this the same Peter Hayes?