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Tris' POV
He throws his first punch with a fury I didn't suspect to come from him. His eyes grow harder with every punch he throws, the punching bag beginning to sway and bob heavily from his hard hits.
His jaw clenches and his teeth grind just a bit and a few small grunts escape him as he throws his whole body into the fight that seems to have become real for him. I'm suddenly a bit worried about our fights that will happen. I'm his bodyguard, I should be able to beat him easily, but he's a natural fighter. His body is naturally strong with graceful lines and tight muscles. Watching the way he fights would be considered beautiful in Dauntless. My eyes droop a little in admiration, and I have to force them back open. He runs a hand through his hair- and his knuckles are bright red from the impact.
He continues to hit the punching bag, harder and harder and harder. The fight is too real.
"Tobias, stop," I say as firmly as I can muster from my breathlessness, but he can't even hear me. He continues to punch, kick, punch, harder and harder. I walk behind him, avoiding his elbows, and I fit neatly between them. Grabbing his arms would be useless, he's strong enough that I would simply get thrown against the punching bag.
My fingers grasp at his sides, squeezing his torso hard so that he will stop. His body goes rigid and his arms fall to his side. He turns to me, a little off balance. He steps close to me without meaning to, so that we are only inches from each other.
I look up at him and his eyes are wild. I feel my eyes doing something I hate- and this doesn't happen very often anymore.
They widen in this strange feeling of anticipation. I can feel them reflecting his reflection back to him. They reflect innocence and a small little Abnegation girl. His strong hands wrap around my upper arms, gripping me tightly.
My eyes grow wider, their dull blue-gray beginning to glow- I can feel it.
I try to force them back into their Dauntless standard- careful, uncaring, strong steel.
But I can't.
He breathes heavily and I can feel his warm breath on my forehead and sweeping through the top of my hair. My stomach lurches in nervous anticipation.
Then he lets go.
His eyes return to their normal Abnegation calm. He composes himself and murmurs something about being sorry and then grumbles something before punching the bag one more time. Something fearful washes through me- that this young man may not be quite stable- he's like a Dauntless- about to unleash power at any moment- and very able to do so.
I have never found something more worrisome.
I have never found something more attractive.
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