Amity was exactly as I expected it, smiles and politeness, giggles and squeals and songs, music I'd never heard in my life seemed to fill every square inch of the Faction. The market was busy, members wandered from stall to stall talking and laughing, gesturing with their hands excitedly, children ran about between the wooden carved legs of each drape holder. Which of course was what made me look up at the structure of each building. Breathtaking. Colors were everywhere, maddening hues of bright pink or orange danced through the crowds of green or yellow, the banners that fell beautifully down the glass and carved wood walls held a tree, a bronze tint to the roots.

A few children had ran into me, then used my legs as a pole to play rosy with, running from their friends. Every woman there either had hair long enough to sit on constantly and a flower crown, or braided hair with flowers woven into the tendrils. Flowers was the "thing", I learned the hard way when a house of children we visited attacked me, not literally of course, and wove my hair up into a braid and a bun atop my head, and a crown of white and purple clovers. I told them one or the other, they didn't listen. Eric laughed.

I hadn't a clue why he agreed to join me on this trip to Amity, probably because he had nothing better to do, which I was confused to either feel flattered that I was his first choice when he was bored, or if he wanted to mess with me and exploit my trust in him. I wasn't technically reluctant to let him join me, his company had been rather pleasant, to me. We were heading to Johanna's office, a barn, Eric had told me, with horses. I didn't tell him I'd never actually seen horses before, but he didn't seem to like them.

Amity was much louder than I had anticipated at first, perhaps louder than the Pit on a Friday. Laughter filled my ears and my head turned to a group of women speaking with a stall owner, he sold paint. My lips twitched at the memory of a few weeks ago, when Eric had helped me paint my completed apartment, I'm sure if I brought it up he'd look at me like it never happened, with that bored expression he always had, save for the hint of annoyance. Though in the past few days, he hadn't looked at me like I was a nuisance like everyone else, and I didn't know why. Eric suddenly stopped, making me bump into his back, my eyes widened as I took a few steps back, he shot me a look, my eyebrows raised. It couldn't have been because I bumped into him, could it? He opened his mouth before closing it again, then he gestured for me to follow him again. What was that about? He walked faster, probably to make sure I was paying attention this time, I had to, as his strides were much longer and faster than mine, I was in a half light jog, half speed walk phase.


Eric frowned, coming to a halt much slower this time beside me, his fists clenched. I stared at him for a moment, wondering what the holdup was as I came to a stop beside him. My eyes widened with awe, and my lips parted slightly when I took in the intricate hand carved wooden designs in the barn doors. They were heavy, and dark. I couldn't help but run my fingers along the chipped away brick red paint, fingerprints catching the texture of unfinished old paint chipped from even older wood. A homely feeling sprouted then in my soul, and thoughts sprung to my mind. If Amity hadn't my respect before I arrived, this barn would have changed my mind. Years and years and even more piled onto this place, the struggles hung from the sturdy rafters, the project itself still lived and breathed off the walls. The stalls were hand carved and well kept, aside from some dents from the strong metal shoed hooves from the steeds.

This nearly ancient building swayed with the wind, it creaked and groaned, cracked and splintered around me. The floorboards above my head even moved, pressed down and squealed under the weight of a person. Eric lead me past the huffing multi colored animals, and I tried to keep my fear and awe under my skin, sparing only a few glances when one of them whinnied. The stairs must have been redone, because they were finely polished and hand carved like the roots and branches of a tree sprouting from the middle of the barn. The Amity manifesto was carved in a spiral up or down the stairs, the words stared me in the face as I skimmed my fingers against the well carved trunk of this tree, then my eyes widened as it touched a piece of metal, a screw. Was this once a real tree?

Eric snapped me to attention when I caught his gaze, he was watching me, his eyes slightly narrowed and his eyebrows furrowed, still a frown on his face. I ripped my fingers from the brilliant trunk and looked to my right. The entire wall was mounted with numerous herbs and flowers, all of them in recycled parts from years of each Factions waste, something stirred in me and I grew uneasy, guilty but glad at the same time. That Amity had to do this to keep from using new resources, and that they recycled all of this. The opposite wall faced eastward, and was made up entirely of glass. I stepped closer to it curiously, and hovered my hand against the surface, air. There were microscopic holes in the glass to allow air flow. A feat of engineering and science, no wonder Amity was known for its agricultural accomplishments, it was amazing.

Movement drew my attention, a woman, with long dark hair and tanned skin sat behind a reclaimed wood desk, her fingers laced, palms together and her forearms rested in front of her. She had a scar that stretched up from the corner of her left eyebrow into her hairline, a soft face, a few wrinkles, a kind smile, and dark eyes that reflected the light. I knew her face like the back of my hand, as I had read countless papers signed in her name, or reports that had anything vaguely to do with her, the leader of Amity, or representative as she called herself; Johanna Reyes.

She looked pleased until Eric stepped towards her desk, she straightened and leaned back, tilted her head and looked up at his towering figure before her desk. Wasn't she scared? I was when he approached me for the first time in my new office, then a thought hit me, she must have been used to his imposing visits. He took a seat without asking and crossed his arms, then reclined mockingly in his chair and I almost felt ashamed to have had him there with me, but I didn't. Instead I took a few steps forward, bowed my head and closed my fist over my chest, and waited to hear some acknowledgement. She chuckled, "New leader are you? Stand up straight dear," I did as I was told.

Johanna rose from her seat and moved fluidly, like a willow tree that danced with the breeze, and stood before me. She was only a few inches taller than me, and up close I could tell how much older than me she was, "Tris, you have seven fears and were ranked first in your entire EPIC,"

"E-P-I-C?" I questioned,

"Experimental Process Initiate Class," She smiled kindly, though her eyes narrowed, "The first class to take on the new style of Dauntless," I tensed, and though she hadn't said the words menacingly, I understood the malice behind them, and exactly why Eric behaved the way he did there. I supposed it was foolish of me to believe that trip to be entirely milk and cookies, Amity was the Faction of peace, after all. She grinned with closed lips at me and took my shoulder, "Please, sit," I did as I was told and sat up straight, while I fought the frown that threatened to paint my lips. Eric looked rather relaxed next to me, almost amused without showing it, allowing himself to be so. If the situation didn't depend on my leadership indoctrination and eventual entitlement I was sure he'd blow the situation off with a cruel smirk. Johanna settled, "Now, where to begin, on congratulations to you first, Tris, for Candor."

"Thanks."

"So, Eric, Tris, let's talk about the Factionless, and your suspicions."


The ride back to Dauntless was silent. As silent as anything could be when we were on a train traveling nearly 70 miles per hour. Eric didn't want to talk, not to me, he had grumbled and muttered obscene things to himself the entire trek back from Amity to the tracks. I caught a few curses and Johanna's name before I put him to mute in my mind, if he didn't want to talk about it, it wouldn't be polite to listen in. We were five minutes into the train ride, we both sat up against the wall, and stared out the open cart. I watched the trees woosh and shudder by, the leaves rip off in the speed of the train and the wind that followed, watched the branches bend and quiver, wave goodbye as the final cart left the area as the tracks curved. The sky was blue, and the air was warm with a gentle breeze, I wouldn't lie to anyone if they asked if I missed the surface.

Eric grew silent at the fifteen minute mark, we still had twenty to go until we reached the outskirts of Dauntless. I cast my glance to him, and took in his tightly crossed arms over his chest and his tilted head, his eyes were closed. If he hadn't an irritated look on his face, I would have guessed him to be sleeping. Johanna was suspected of treason, suspected of harboring radical Factionless and traitors from any other place. She was good at keeping secrets, and good at keeping her mouth shut whilst saying the right thing to the right people. She couldn't understand the need for regular Dauntless guard rounds in her faction, on the farms, in the market, around the neighborhoods, couldn't understand that the devastation I went through in Candor could and most likely would happen again, to anyone. We were all targets, and it was Dauntless's job, my job, to get rid of those who dared to point the barrel of a gun to said people.

I thought that was why Eric got so upset, and had hopped that it was the true reason, that he wasn't the unpleasant person everyone, including other leaders, called him. He was the same as the rest of us, human, with humanity chock full of emotions, concerns, thoughts, wants, hates, fears, everything. Or maybe that was wishful thinking of me, it was bad of me to hope again as that was what made Tobias such a shock to me. I looked away from Eric and down into my lap, letting my fingertips rest against the smoothed and cool steel of the floor. It calmed me, made me shiver and push away the thoughts of the past. It'd been nearly a month since I'd seen Tobias, there was no reason to think about him, and what he did.

My eyes closed and I mimicked Eric, my mind slowly shut away the world to just my thoughts. Black shadowed and crawled around the edges of the back of my eyelids, a woozy feeling rushed along my skin as the dark spots popped up like an old movie film eating away at itself, destroying what was there, eating away the light. Sleep, had not been on my agenda for a few days, and I was lucky if I had three hours under my belt. It wasn't healthy, but I had work to do, and no one to occupy me from it. Warm encased the side of my head and a hand grabbed my upper left arm. My eyes opened with a stinging protest, Eric was awake, and had decided to lay me down in his lap. The look on his face told me nothing, but made me question everything. Could he tell I was tired? Why was he bothering? I wasn't his actual responsibility, he didn't have to tag along to Amity if he knew it would've resulted in disappointment. Did he want that to happen or did he get a stroke of heart that seemed to claw it's way out of him only around me? Was he worried about me? Could he worry about me? That would have to mean I meant something to him, did I? Or was I just an asset he didn't want to scramble like white noise on a screen? I stopped my questioning when his warmth encased me, lulling me with the sway of the train. He had softer brawn than what his cold and calculated expression lead most to believe.


I woke to a dark room and warmth that invaded my skin. I drifted between the sleep state of awareness and stirred alertness. I didn't get up right then, because I was for once so comfortable in the bed I was intruding. A strong smell rubbed against my nose and face, aftershave, a near mint musk, like cold fresh air, and something else. My mind concluded that I was in a man's bed, to which he did manly things in. I wanted to be disgusted, but I was still half asleep. My fingers rubbed the soft fabric beneath me, the grains and threads teasing the pads of my fingertips. My bare feet were for once warm, and tucked under the comforter that weighed down on my body, but was still remarkably light. I checked myself physically, to be relieved that I was still fully clothed, save for my socks and combat boots, which sat on the floor next to the mirrored closet I was facing. I breathed in through my slightly parted dry lips, closed my eyes slowly and let drowsiness caress my limbs again, let it creep up my spine and to my skull, and once again I slowly welcomed the gentle black that welcomed me on the train. The train.

I sat up quickly, my gaze turned to the closed door of the bedroom which held back the strong golden light that peaked under the door, it crawled and shifted the black of the room into a light purple against the stained floorboards. My sight returned to me slowly, and I was soon able to pick out the shape of a dresser, two side tables, an adjoining bathroom. I was in Eric's room, again. Had be brought me there? I pulled the covers off my small body reluctantly and swung my feet over the edge of the bed, and slowly rose to my feet. The floor was warm at least. I made the bed before I retrieved my boots, which had the socks I was wearing stuffed in them, neatly. Then I opened the door, eyes squinted and my body grimaced at the sudden change of light that I was unused to.

After a few moments my eyes settled on Eric, who stood in the kitchen writing something down, and talked with someone over the phone. It was a quiet conversation, well, he was speaking softly, the person on the other end of the line might as well have been yelling at him. I smirked and silently slid in a stool that was placed on the other side of the raised counter. I propped up my jaw with the palm of my hand and watched as the muscles in his back tensed and relaxed, watched his shoulders move each time he filled his lungs with air and banished it. Watched how the bones under his skin shaped his body and then remolded it to suit a better position. The kinesiology behind his body was astounding. I took in his attire and noticed quickly how it had changed. He wore a dark grey tank top, and black sweatpants, his feet were bare. He had recently returned from training.

He sighed and mumbled something into the phone, then stood straight again from his reclined position of leaning against the counter behind him, his back to me. Then the call ended, and he placed his phone on the counter in front of him. Then he turned on heel, running a hand through his hair before he paused, his wondrous steel colored eyes landed on me. He looked surprised at first, but not scared that I had just shown up from my assumed resting, in fact he walked over and leaned against the counter, "Stiff, what are you doing up?" he asked me, and raised an eyebrow.

"What am I doing here? And what time is it?" I redirected,

"A little past 2 am," he said, "you're not sleeping, are you," He stated more than asked, his eyes bore directly into my own, nailing me in place with throwing knives, I supposed my dark circles around my eyes were too noticeable to put concern on the down low, still I shrugged, "Who was that?"

"Max," he huffed,

"What did he want?"

"You to give your report, I told him to fuck off," he told me with a shrug,

"You did not," I sputtered, my eyes widening in disbelief. He shrugged and a coy smile wriggled onto his lips, it made me smile in turn, how his eyes were downcast and his grin gave way to parted lips and slightly shown teeth. I wondered briefly if anyone had ever seen him really smile, like this. He returned his gaze back to me, the slightest hint of warmth in his eyes but the look of the utmost seriousness on his face, "You should go back to bed," my mind was made up very quickly, so I slid off the stool and purposefully avoided his gaze. I picked up my boots slowly and turned for the front door. It took two steps until I heard him, "Where do you think you're going?" he demanded of me, his voice less harsh than it was nearly a month ago, the last time I spent a night in his bed. It seemed this was the second time he willingly let me sleep in his abode, it wasn't like he couldn't just leave me, let me figure things out on my own and let me handle my own shame. I paused in my tracks and held a smile back by sinking my teeth into my lip, "Going to bed," I told him innocently, his footsteps were quieter than I thought they would be, and soon he was behind me, heat falling from his skin in waves like a human heater.

Then his hands rose up to hold my elbows gently, and he bowed his head, whispering into my ear and giving me pleasured chills, "You're going the wrong way," he told me with a soft voice, something in the back of his throat made his voice deeper, more appealing in the way of chemistry and my body. I tried not to shiver, instead I turned around and looked up at him with tired but awake eyes, he was looking down at me with a peculiar expression. I smiled, "Is than an order, or an invitation?" His lips curled, and suddenly he leaned down, nearly closing the gap between us, his lips brushed mine like a feather to skin. I held my breath, it wasn't a kiss, but he was that close. Then quickly his arm went around my waist and his hand took my boots to the floor, I was hoisted to his shoulder like nothing. I laughed.

He spun me a few times and held my waist and my legs, I could feel the grin on his face and he stormed towards his room. Once inside he lifted me and dropped me on the bed, making me bounce and laugh even harder at him. To which then he proceeded to grab my ankle and gently pull me closer to him, I squealed louder than I ever have when his fingers skimmed and poked and prodded the only spots on me that were ticklish. My sides, my ribs, and along my thighs, and though I could tell he knew both inner and outer parts were sensitive he didn't venture anywhere he knew I'd be uncomfortable with.

I laughed so hard my cheeks and stomach were aching and sore, and my eyes dripped hot tears down the sides of my face to my ears and to the bed as I squirmed and curled and uncurled into a ball beneath him. I was breathless and begging by the time he stopped. I didn't have to look at him to know he had a self satisfied grin on his face. I smiled even though my face hurt and looked at him. Our eyes locked and I swore then that I felt something extraordinary, rare, hot, intense and incredibly pure. My lips parted to say something to him as I sat up but he sobered quickly, looking away from me and mumbling quiet words of almost apology and a shower.

My teeth captured my lip again as he disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door with a pair of clothes on hand. Had I done something wrong? I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, my grey matter replaying everything that had happened. Pausing and rewinding on one specific part, he had almost kissed me. Or was that just a part of his bubble disturbing manipulation trick? But that wouldn't make sense, not when a fit of laughter followed. Had he wanted to kiss me? Would I have let him? There was nothing holding me back, aside from fear. Eric wasn't a model citizen, sure he changed around me into someone almost entirely different, but that didn't change how much of a sadist or masochist he was towards other people, and the women he had been with told stories. I gnawed on my lip harder, furrowing my brow and staring at the bedroom door, my heart racing from flashes of thoughts and six second to two second plays of what could possibly follow a kiss from Eric. I closed my eyes, there was no use in exciting myself.


I would have let him, I decided when he crawled into bed with me. My body was stripped and covered in underclothes and one of his shirts. His skin was warm, and still slightly wet, and he smelt of something spicy and dark, it made me want to face him and smell him. But that would've been weird, and he would stare at me like I'd finally lost my mind from sleep deprivation. That thought didn't keep his eyes from burning into me, however, and I knew he was eyeing my exposed shoulder. I had taken my hair out while he was showering, and it was now draped over his pillow in wavy and loosely curled bleach blonde and brown tendrils. The flower crown of clovers rested on the bedside table I faced. I wondered if he would try to play with my hair or touch my skin while I sleep, and I knew I wouldn't mind it if he did. I closed my eyes, and sleep washed over me like a tidal wave, pulling me under as soft and wet lips gently pressed against my shoulder bone.

This chapter is slightly shorter than the last one, but it was created for the purposes of developing relationships. The next chapter will be a bit of a surprise, but still, I hope you enjoy it. I found a song that I believe represents both Eric and Tris in this story, 'Prince Fox - I Don't Wanna Love You (ft. Melody Noel)'

Fixed some mistakes, fixed the tenses and added in a few descriptive lines. The next chapter should be up by this weekend, She Knows is in the making.