Author's Note: Thank you for your patience, forgive me the long absence. This chapter weaves in and out of both characters's point of views, so I hope it doesn't confuse you. My apologies if there are any typos.
Disclaimer: I Don't Own Divergent.
The day had started out like any other.
He'd had a mediocre day training the Dauntless wannabes, caught Tris's eye a couple of times, attempted having some sort of interaction with her, getting some sort of acknowledgment, and to the best of his knowledge failed to do so.
So here he was, just like yesterday and the day - heck, perhaps the last couple weeks - before, wasting his time in the training gym.
198.
199.
200.
He lied down on his back and exhaled.
His abs burned, his chest was sore, and he definitely pulled a muscle or two in his right arm from those throwing knives.
And if that wasn't bad enough, to top it all off his head wasn't any clearer than when he first started working out.
He'd thought that exhausting his body until it nearly shut down would eventually lead his mind to dropping the subject of Tris. He however, was sadly mistaken.
Although it seemed to work for a while - about two days to be honest - he quickly discovered that he'd developed a tolerence for all the pain he had inflicted on himself, and no longer found relief in one good work-out session.
Nope, by now he needed three or four good work-out sessions.
And even that wasn't doing too well now.
As a matter of fact, now the late-night training sessions seemed to be taking its toll on him.
If it wasn't bad enough that Tris was on his brain all hours of the day, now he was starting to have freaking hallucinations of her too.
Every once in a while he'd think he'd spot her running around the training room, her brunette ponytail whipping behind her as she flew past him, and disappeared somewhere out of the corner of his eye.
It had to be his lack of sleep, he reasoned.
That was the only thing that made sense...
Right?
...
Dang it.
Now he knew he was tripping over that broad.
Just then Tris, the alleged apparition, dashed into his peripherals. And being just as oblivious and clumsy as the real Tris, tripped right over him on the floor.
Or...was he tripping over her?
"What the heck are you doing?" he accused, quickly shoving her off of him and getting to his feet when he realized how close her face was to his.
"Uh...running?" she said uncertainly.
"Look, I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean to interrupt-"
"Gah!" he clenched his abs and cringed in pain. She'd hit his stomach pretty hard, and he was already hurting to begin with.
He tried putting on a front to conceal just how bad the pain really was, but she saw right through him and was at his side in a second.
"Here, let me help you," she offered out of mere habit from being raised in her previous faction, though she could think of no logical reason that she'd want to help Eric, of all people.
"I'm fine," he grit his teeth. "Back off."
"No," she defied him, taking one of his arms and preparing herself for his weight. "You're hurt. Now let me take you to your room and get you some ice."
His first instinct was to resist her, but his body was so exhausted that he couldn't even put up a fight. So low and behold, she wound up walking his sorry butt all the way out of the training gym, and up the stairs to his room.
She tried helping him down onto a reading chair he had in the corner of his room (she wondered if he ever used it), but he at least had enough strength and pride to complete that task on his own. It was embarrassing enough having her walk him like a newborn to his dorm (hopefully without any of the Dauntless recruits noticing, or his reputation would be ruined for good), but it would absolutely kill him if she had to sit him down like a child as well.
Any other day he would've told her to get lost, but for some strange reason he couldn't find it in himself to do so.
Having her care enough to want to help him (even if all she could do was minimal) kinda felt...good.
By now the pain in his torso had subsided, and he didn't even need help, yet still, he got the odd feeling to want to prolong her stay around him.
She brought him a pack of ice from the mini fridge he had, and handed it to him to cover his injury.
"Here," she said quietly, thinking full well that he wasn't enjoying the situation in the slightest.
He noticed a deep gash on her hand when it brushed against his, and was quick to acknowledge it.
"You're hand's bleeding," he stated plainly, holding onto it a second before she pulled it away from him.
"I must've cut it when I fell. I'm fine," she shrugged it off, slowly stepping away from him as she edged her way towards the door.
All of the sudden she felt uncomfortable. Why was he concerned about her? As a matter of fact, why was she concerned about him?
And darn it, what was going on here?!
She swiftly turned herself around and readied her hand to move the knob, stopping abruptly when the pain of her cut seeped in and caused her to 'hiss'.
"Wait," he commanded her. "Get back here, I'll get some salve and gauze." Not giving her a moment to reject his offer, he forced himself out of his seat, ice packet still pressed to his side in one hand, and headed to the med cabinet to retrieve a box full of bandages and ointments.
She reluctantly released her grip on the doorknob, and cautiously made her way to the counter where he had set the box.
"Give me your hand," he told her, offering one of his after he spread out the gauze.
She gave him a wary look.
This was all just too weird. Eric offering to bandage up one of her wounds? She'd never have guessed that she'd see the day.
"I'm not going to bite," he assured her, and then muttered under his breath; "Not this time, anyway,"
Still, she relented, and before she knew it her hand was in his, and he was dabbing it with salve and wrapping it with gauze.
Eric absentmindedly noted how small her hand was compared to his, how soft it was even with the few calluses that she'd obtained from training, and how it fit perfectly in his rough one.
He didn't want to dwell on it though, because it was too absurd of a thought for any guy to be thinking, so he made quick with his handiwork and dropped her palm the second he was finished wrapping it.
"There. Done." he said shortly, occupying himself with putting up the med box and returning it to its rightful place.
Tris stared at her newly-wrapped hand, and then back at Eric who stood awkwardly across from her.
"Thanks...?" she said uncertainly, for she wasn't sure if she was truly thanking him, or just asking if it was okay to thank him. How was she supposed to know what he did and didn't tolerate?
He said nothing in return, and opted instead to give her a quick, respectful nod. Saying 'you're welcome' wasn't really second nature to him. Heck, was 'welcome' even in his vocabulary? He didn't remember.
Soon enough they fell into a long, awkward silence, and it wasn't for quite some time that Tris bravely decided to break it.
"So..." she started, quickly catching his attention which had momentarily been diverted to the counter-top. "What were you doing in the training room?" she asked curiously.
His eyes widened slightly in surprise. He hadn't expected her to be that blunt with the subject. Heck, he hadn't expected her to bring it up at all.
"What were you doing?" he deflected, crossing his arms in front of his chest, and then wincing when the pain returned to his torso.
"I told you before," she stated, a surprising wave of confidence hitting her as she crossed her arms as well. "I was running."
"What for?" he shot back.
"Exercise?" she said, raising a confused brow. What else did he want her to say? That she couldn't get any sleep because she was thinking about him all day and night?
"Don't you think you're over-working yourself, Stiff? None of the other Dauntless recruits are up at this hour."
She tried her hardest to suppress a scoff.
"I can say the same about you, Mr-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-to-start-an-intense-workout-for-no-reason!"
"Hey!" he interjected. "I've got my reasons, don't turn this around on me!"
"Turn what around? Is there something I'm not catching?"
"Yeah, your time spent here is over, now get out!" he yelled, pointing her to the door.
"Why did you even bother caring for me if you were just going to go back to being a jerk?" she wondered aloud. "And better yet, why did I bother caring for you?" she brushed his shoulder as she passed him, and made her way to the door.
Eric groaned in frustration.
Dang it, why was she so difficult?
He clenched his fist and slammed it onto the counter, causing her to jump in surprise.
"Wait."
Tris obeyed and stayed frozen in place. Partly because of fear, and partly because of curiosity.
Eric stomped his way over to the door, and stood directly across from her, a look of determination on his face.
He exhaled in a huff, and did the one thing he'd been craving to do for the past couple weeks;
Without a word he swallowed his pride, grabbed hold of her face, and pressed his lips to hers.
What he felt during that long moment was nothing less of ecstasy, and it took everything he had to pull away from her a second later.
"What was that for?" she asked quietly, eyes wide and mind reeling.
He abruptly turned his head away from her, hiding the heat that began to rise in his cheeks.
Did he really just do that?
Sure, he'd been wanting to all week, but now that he'd done it...
Dang it, why did he do that?
He cleared his throat before responding to her inquiry.
"Just something I had to get out of my system." he dismissed, turning his back to her.
He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, feigning disgust. When it fact, he couldn't have relished in the lingering kiss any more.
Tris was stuck in a trance-like state, waiting for him to elaborate.
"Uh..." he was at a real loss of words for a good five minutes, before he finally settled on;
"Get out." And swiftly opened his door, pushing her out into the hallway and slamming it in front of her.
He rested his head on the door's cold metal, closed his eyes and sighed.
How the heck was he going to deny his feelings for her now?
Meanwhile, Tris stood in the hallway, shell-shocked.
Did that really just happen, she wondered. Was her mind playing tricks on her?
Her fingers gingerly made their way up to her lips.
As foreign as the feeling of his kiss was, did she actually like it?
Her mind didn't know what to think, and she had no idea what course of action to take.
She lingered in the hallway for a good half hour before retreating to her room which was conveniently across from his.
She prepared her bed and settled herself in, but ended up lying awake until the crack of dawn.
Forget it, her mind told her.
That kiss meant nothing.
Forget it. Forget it. Forget it.
Come training time, Tris saw very little of Eric.
He stood off a ways from her on the opposite side of the given room, and hardly made himself known to any of the Dauntless trainees.
He didn't interject or add to any conversation during instructions. Didn't comment on her combat techniques or posture. Didn't stare or gawk, or even look her way when she tried to get his attention.
He practically ignored her all day.
And it was killing her.
She tried to forget what happened yesterday - or last night - but couldn't.
She'd pushed that kiss to the farthest part of her mind, yet still it always managed to resurface.
Come the end of training she'd finally had enough, and decided to do something about it.
She'd noticed Eric break away from the group and head off down one of the halls.
She spotted him not too far away, back leaning against a concrete wall, and hands in his pockets.
"I can't stop thinking about it," she said, effectively breaking him out of his thoughts and making her presence known.
His eyes met hers, and he gave her a knowing look.
It didn't look like it was a good subject to breach.
"I've tried, okay? But every thought I have immediately goes back to that kiss."
"Forget it," he told her coldly, shifting his eyes to his boots. "It never happened."
Forget it, her mind echoes.
She'd been telling that to herself all night and it still hadn't remedied it.
She can't forget.
Because she doesn't want to forget.
But how will she tell him when he is being so stubborn?
No words would convince him, she realized.
But one action would.
Using every ounce of bravery her body could muster, she took a few bold steps forward, and closed the distance between them, lips locking for a significantly longer time than before.
A small part of him wanted to push her away and humiliate her, but the rest of him wanted to pull her closer and never let her go.
He listened to the latter.
Without a moment's hesitation, he wrapped a hand around her and pulled her closer to him, his other hand caressing her cheek.
He'd fought the feelings he'd had for her for so long, that he couldn't possibly keep them at bay any longer.
They finally parted when they heard the sound of footsteps down the adjacent hall, and he rested his head on her shoulder to exhale.
He didn't want them to get caught by any of the recruits. Him being involved with one of the Dauntless trainees might be a conflict of interest, not to mention the fact that they'd probably think he'd gone soft.
"You wanna know why I was up late running?" she asked breathlessly.
He nodded for her to continue, although he couldn't care less about the answer.
"It was because I was thinking about you."
All of this time, he thought, all the pain he'd inflicted on himself, only to find out that the feelings he tried to suppress were requited?
Dang, that was some crap.