AN: How is everyone today? I'm horrible! I had kidney pain all day and took so many pain killers that now I have a head ache, but I pushed past it because I couldn't not get this chapter out today. Both my editor and I are busy with Finals right now, but thank her, thank Blackandwhiteangel13 for editing this when she was busy.
Thank you all for the reviews, I'm sorry I didn't get this chapter done sooner, finals are next week so its been hectic, but hey, here it is! I'm happy that you guys really like this story, it makes me want to write more.
Anyway, enjoy the chapter.
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Chapter Ten
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There were hands around her neck, squeezing, and constricting her breathing. Reeve could barely open her eyes to see Peter bearing down on her, his large hands wrapped around her neck like a snake killing its prey. It was dark all around her, and just as it had before the shadows started to seep into her vision, and cloud her sight. Numb hands found his fingers, and tried to tear them off, but by then Reeve was barely able to breathe as her breath was clogged in her throat.
"Wake up!"
All at once the hands were gone from her neck, and Reeve fell into darkness once more, her thoughts ebbed away slowly until there was nothing once again.
A sharp gasp, and Reeve was awake, her eyes shooting open quickly as she recalled the so vivid dream that had just occurred beneath her closed eyelids only moments before. Peter had her pinned against the railing, forcing her over the edge ever so slowly until she was looking down into the chasm longingly. She'd glanced back at him for a second, and stilled when Peter had been replaced with Eric, he'd said something she could scarcely hear before pushing her over the railing.
Trying to sit up proved painstaking, her whole body was sore, so instead of trying to stand Reeve took in her surroundings and injuries. She was in what looked to be someone's room; certainly not the medical bay that she'd originally assumed would be the place of her waking. Behind her were somewhat clouded windows that allowed soft white light to brighten the room, they took up most of the wall. There was a bookshelf towards one end of the room, and a couple closed doors that made Reeve curious as to what would be behind them. Another door led into a bathroom; at least she assumed it was for the small bit of a toilet she could see. In one of the corners was a desk and chair, though it looked like no one had sat down in a long time.
She was sitting up in a bed, meaning that for however long she had been out, she had been in someone's bedroom. Did that mean that the person had slept next to her, and she had no idea? Or perhaps they had been nicer about it, and slept on the floor.
Her head ached, and her vision had become somewhat fuzzy when she'd first tried to sit up in bed, not that she'd paid it any mind. Her brain was still telling her to run away after all the nightmares she had while asleep, Peter had followed her into her dreams, and pursued her tirelessly. Examining her surroundings had helped to ease away the shakiness in her form, Peter was gone, and someone had found her.
Without looking Reeve let her fingers dance along the bandage on her head, gently prodding the spots that seemed to radiate the most pain, and trying to connect them with the events in her memory. The most effective way that Peter had to hurt her in those moments was to ram her already injured head back into the railing, which he had done multiple times in an effort to get her to stop moving. There were also bandages on her arms where she had been tied at the wrist, but still worked raw in order to have the slickness of her own blood to escape the rope. The left wrist was worse than the right one, she could feel the scabs starting to heal over. Reeve could only imagine what her face looked like, awful, and beaten up; even with Collin she'd never been through this before.
Humiliating.
It was the only word Reeve could think of that perfectly described what she was feeling at the moment, somehow she'd been feeling a little cocky with herself. She had finally been able to beat her brother, and was ranked amongst the top transfers in Dauntless, even when Peter had tried to approach her she had none of it. She hadn't expected him to go so far as to ambush her and Tris, to steal her away, and tied her up. Perhaps the only thing she was proud of was how she hadn't given up. She could have just let him do whatever he wanted, but her body never allowed her to even think about submitting to him.
Eric's face flashed in her mind for a second, and she wondered how she would have reacted if it had been the Dauntless leader, and not some sniveling transfer. He was always so demanding, and tricky whenever they spoke or interacted that Reeve didn't know what to think of the man. Avoid at all costs, yes, that was how she usually handled such thoughts, and interactions with him. Yet he was all over her mind, and digging through her thoughts, even after being tossed around by Peter he was on top of the thought list.
This brought her to question who had saved her, perhaps this room belonged to Mal and he didn't want her in the med bay, because it was easy access to anyone and everyone who was curious. Maybe it was Four's room, the quiet question made Reeve's mind ache as she remembered that Tris had been in trouble when she left her. Was she okay now? Had someone come to save her? Reeve cursed herself for her wandering thoughts that had disregarded her friend so easily, how could she not worry about the one person she felt connected with?
The least she could do was check if her friend had made it out. Even though it made her head scream out in pain, and her vision turn fuzzy, Reeve pulled herself onto shaky feet. She took a few hesitant steps forward, and it was then that she realized the only thing she was wearing was a large oversized shirt that barely covered her underwear. Meaning that someone had changed her clothing, and out of all her comrades, and friends in Dauntless she couldn't think of one person with whom she was comfortable to allow that.
With a growl, she pulled the sheet off the bed, and wrapped it around her form. Shifting this way and that made her wrists sing out in agony at the usage. Her eyes started to swim, and churn the images inside like a whirlpool. Slowly she sunk onto the ground, and took shallow breathes that wracked her form. She wouldn't be able to make it very far if every time she took a few steps her eyes decided to shut.
Only slightly aware of the door opening Reeve was brought out of her frustrated thoughts by an all too familiar voice. "What were you hoping to accomplish?" His clear voice seemed to ring out in the silence of the room.
She looked up to see Eric looking down at her slightly annoyed, holding a bowl of something in one hand, and an apple in the other. His hard expression had been replaced by another that she couldn't quite place, maybe relief, but she couldn't think of anything that would make him feel relief. The Dauntless leader walked into the room, and stepped around her before setting his things on the desk in the corner, sitting down in the chair to look at her.
"You were the one that found me?" She asked in a soft voice. It hurt to speak, her throat was sore, and her head panged slightly at the action.
"Is that really so surprising?" He questioned, drinking in the expression of disbelief on her face.
"Maybe if you were more human I wouldn't be so shocked," she said, with a shallow breath. He smirked at her comment as if he had been the one to make it in the first place.
"What happened?" She questioned, trying to fit jagged pieces together.
"I threw Peter down the stairs," he muttered nonchalantly. She surprised him by smiling slightly before her lips turned downwards, and her eyes hardened darkly.
"Good," her voice was short. "Is Tris okay?" She asked, making the man frown at her.
"You've been out for a day, eat this before you pass out," he snarled, setting the bowl down in front of her. She'd been somewhat curious as to what was in it ever since he'd brought entered, and now she could see that it was some kind of soup, something that they didn't serve very often.
"Tris," her voice was firm, and made the Dauntless leader stare her down.
"Is fine," he muttered at last.
"You must think I'm weak," she chuckled, lightly glaring down at the food in front of her. Her friend had made it out okay, probably with minimal injuries because someone had come to help her, but it had been a while before they had found her. There was a pang of hurt that coursed through Reeve; she hadn't even the luxury of being found by her friends, but by the man that confused her greatly. She shook slightly with built up rage, wanting to find Peter, and beat him to a pulp once she'd regained her strength. She needed to hit him so roughly in the throat that he'd have trouble speaking for the rest of his days, and cringe whenever he swallowed.
He gave her a hard expression before standing up quickly, offering her one last look before going back towards the door, perhaps she wanted to eat by herself for a little while, and he could at least tell Mal that she'd woken. He froze for a moment, and let his grip tighten on the door. Certainly, he could find the transfer, and beat him up a little more for what he did.
"Not in the slightest." He pulled himself out of the door, and pushed it closed.
Reeve turned to look at the door, before turning back to the soup, the cooks only made it upon special request of the higher ups. She had watched Mal ask for soup when someone was especially sick, and was sure that it was reserved only for those in the med bay or the people who sat up on the balcony. Yet there was some sitting in front of her, still radiating a bit of warmth. It was hot on her tongue, and felt good sliding down her throat, but she couldn't bring herself to take more than a few spoonfuls. Her stomach clenched up when she thought of the sick look of lust on Peter's face that had faded in and out of her vision, the way he'd licked his lips in anticipation before leaning into her neck. Squeezing her left wrist Reeve clenched her teeth against the pain in order to get his face out of her mind, anything to forget what had happened just a night ago.
Pushing the soup away Reeve could only remember the way he'd groped, and pinched her flesh in order to get a reaction out of her, the way his sloppy hands had slipped under her shirt, and smothered her skin. The memories made her sick to her stomach, and caused her head to circle bitterly through how she might have been able to escape from him.
Eventually she pulled herself to her feet, and stumbled into the bathroom. There was a toilet, shower, small cabinet, sink, and mirror which Reeve smiled at softly. She couldn't imagine Eric coming into the room in the morning, and looking at himself in the mirror, wondering if his tattoo's looked okay today. After ditching the sheet Reeve stood up and felt cold, the goose bumps on her skin felt strange in comparison to the bandages.
Wanting to feel the slightest bit of warmth Reeve turned on the shower, if only to feel the hot waves of air that would radiate out towards her. Soon she was peeling off her shirt, not without small gasps and grunts of pain, and stepping under the steaming heat of water in front of her. It stung upon contact of her injuries and made her hiss slightly, but it was something she craved. If she was focusing on the pain she wasn't thinking about Peter, and how he had almost got what he wanted.
She'd been scared. Only now that Eric was gone, Reeve was able to focus on her thoughts, shiver, and tremble at the awful memories that she had been trying to ignore, even with the sting of hot water on her flesh she couldn't get the transfer out of her head. When he'd had her there so helpless in front of him the first urge had been to kill him, to harm him so badly he'd never look at her the same again. Then there had been the other side of her, the side that wanted to whimper, and shiver at his touches, retreat within herself until he had grown bored. The part of herself that feared he would never finish, and when she opened her eyes again he'd be smirking in front of her, moving his hand down further. She hadn't wanted to see him look triumphant if she were to ever moan, to look upon his expression, and see that he was still not satisfied.
To be so useless Reeve hated herself for it, the fact that she had been so powerless and vulnerable in his hands made her sick to her stomach all over again. Again, the feeling found her when she realized that she was in Eric's room after first seeing him walk in the door, the one person she had doubted would ever come for her or even care. He had been the only person capable of even finding her in the first place. Though she was grateful, Reeve couldn't bring herself to say thank you. She didn't want to see that smug look on anyone else for a long time, the expression that said they knew exactly what she was thinking.
In the end, Reeve felt drained of her emotions and her willpower, something that didn't happen very often at home. When it did Theo always seemed to notice, and ask her about. She'd never given her younger brother enough credit, he had always been very perceptive, and was there for her when she'd finally hit the bottom. If only for Reeve to reassure him that she was fine and smile softly after he left, revitalized in her effort to keep him away from Collin's bitter hands.
In Dauntless there was no one like that, so far when she told people to leave her alone they did, even her friends heeded her words and left her to stare at the chasm that she was usually so persistent to visit. Faintly she thought of Four as the only person who had been able to tell that she had been hurting without her having to say anything, and he had stayed behind with her when everyone else just stared on unknowingly. In that instance they had something in common, perhaps he had dealt with something similar, and knew how to get through it, but what had just happened to her. There was nothing that he could say that would calm her heart.
If anything, she wanted to scream until her throat was raw, and punch Peter until her hands were covered in his blood. Yet she could barely stand in the shower without leaning against the wall. To cause her to be so weak, she hated him for it, to touch her skin without permission, and think that he could have her all to himself.
She squeezed her wrist again, and whimpered slightly at the pain. Her eyes flashed black in agony, and all thoughts of Peter left leaving only a dull numbness of trailing hurt. It was a welcome feeling in the hot rain of water that was washing over her skin, and taking the last traces of blood out of her hair.
=0=0=
It had been a long day, Eric pushed it behind him when he closed the door on the small girl on the floor in his room. In her eyes there was such burning rage that only he could mirror as he found new small bruises on her body where Peter had pinched her skin hard enough to make her cry out in pain. He wanted to beat the kid all over again, kicking him down every turn of the staircase hadn't been enough to calm his anger, but the need to get to Reeve outweighed his ferocity.
He'd gotten up to the roof just as Reeve's eyes fluttered closed, her right wrist still tied tightly to the railing, as Peter seemed to freeze on the spot at the appearance of the Dauntless leader. He had a hand in her hair that immediately untangled, and swung at him uselessly as the red head slumped against the metal bars next to her. Eric dodged the punch easily before grabbing Peter, and smashing his head forcefully into the wall with a sickening crack, making the transfer crumple to the ground like a ragdoll.
Stooping down to Reeve, Eric untied her other wrist carefully, glaring at the red marks that now stained her arms. He was curious of the other one, lifting it to see a limp bloody hand. She must've twisted it until the rope broke her skin and then used it as a means of getting out, working her wrist raw in order to escape. He picked her up carefully, feeling the wetness of the back of her head, and remembering the sound of something hitting the railing hard as he'd been running up the stairs. His expression hardened at the thought of Peter bashing her head into the metal, and then rubbing his hands up and down her skin. Her shirt had been pushed up over her breasts, and her pants were pushed down to reveal the smooth skin of her hips.
Peter groaned on the ground in front of them, silently trying to make his way down the stairs without drawing too much attention to himself while Eric looked at the damage he had done to Reeve. He was nervous and clumsy, slipping on one of the stairs and making a loud banging noise that made Eric freeze next to him. Eric turned to look at Peter over his shoulder, cold eyes bearing down into frantic ones as the Dauntless leader considered the creature beneath him.
"I already marked her as mine," he said blandly, before stomping on Peter's hand. The transfer below him froze, had he known that Eric had been the one to mark her he might've been smarter about his decision. He might've suppressed his urges, looked at her from afar, or messed around with her at night when he could cover her mouth and blame it on someone else. If he had known it was Eric who had his eye on her, he would've left her alone.
While holding Reeve as safely as he could Eric kicked Peter powerfully in the face, and watched him fall down the remained of the stairs to the next level. His face was cold as he continued to kick him and push him down every flight of stairs, until finally the transfers limp and barely conscious body flopped out into the hall. He was gagging on his own blood and trying to move away, an inch at a time, anything to get away from the man he had wronged. Yet Eric was still not satisfied.
If it hadn't been for Mal running around the corner and seeing the state of the transfer, the Dauntless leader just might have killed him, and left his body for someone else to find.
After bandaging Reeve up, and cleaning most of the blood off her body, CC changed the red head out of her bloody and damaged clothes, insisting a girl had to do it when Eric volunteered. The only clothing at hand had been one of Eric's overly large shirts that would be more like a short dress on the small girl.
He hadn't worried too much about Reeve as she slept, because if she was resting it meant she was healing, it was only when she started having nightmares that Eric got bitter and irritated. At one point she'd arched her back, gasping for air, as if she was being choked by someone. He'd been taking a shower when he saw her moving slightly in his bed. She hadn't awake yet, merely trapped in a dreamlike torture. He'd had to shake her slightly with a yell to get her to snap out of it, and after that CC had come to watch the transfer when Eric had work to do around Dauntless. Of course right when CC had left and he's gone to get food the girl woke up, which made him all the more angry.
It pissed him off more than anything that he had been unable to do anything when she had been tied up somewhere, at the mercy of some lust crazed transfer. Yet there was still anger at himself for even getting to the point where he cared about a single person's life, when had the wellbeing of a transfer been so important to him? At first, it had just been curiosity, then excitement, a need, then a want, and somehow it was now a must. Reeve had nonchalantly, and more than likely, unwillingly gotten under his skin. She didn't care for his approaches or the way he seemed keen to bite down on her neck, but sometimes there was a reaction that was just too good to pass up. The way she tried to push him off, and hide her blush made him anticipate the next time they locked lips, and the next time he pinned her against a wall. She was small compared to him and fit perfectly against his chest, and he hated the way she made him feel, excited, curious, and anxious. Certainly, it was those eyes, so mysterious and unwavering. Which one was he meant to look at, the grey or the green?
"Make her take this, she's stubborn, and won't want to sleep," Mal muttered, wondering how his favorite red headed transfer was doing.
"I know," Eric said, before turning away from the medic.
When Reeve had woken up, he'd found her on the floor. Eric could only imagine the rage she must have been feeling, for he had noticed the slight shake of her shoulder, and tremble of her hands as they pressed into the ground. Peter's marks on her neck were sloppy and had bruised over haphazardly, not neatly like all the ones Eric had given her. He'd barely been able to keep himself from throwing her back on the bed, pinning her down to make sure the only marks on her neck were his own. He could see himself holding her against his chest, sucking and biting her flesh until the marks Peter had made were gone, hidden beneath his own. The red head would tremble so badly in his arms he'd be unable to stop himself from continuing, once he caught sight of the red color of her face that would match her hair.
The only way to keep himself away from her had been to leave, because his hands had been itching to travel under the hem of her shirt, and feel the supple skin of her breasts beneath his fingertips. It was a strange and somewhat guilty thought. She'd just been through what he was thinking about doing to her. He couldn't stop himself from thinking it though, the fact that someone else had touched what already belonged to him made him bitter and resentful, the last person to have touched Reeve like that should have been him. Yet there were still traces of Peter on her skin and body, small bruises from pinches that he wanted to erase.
There was still a mostly full bowl of soup on the ground when he came back into his room. It made him growl to think that he had gotten soup especially for her, and she had declined to eat it. Where was she? The soft sound of water answered his question. He looked through the open door of the bathroom to see that Reeve had discarded her shirt, and was standing still and stoic beneath the rain of still steaming water above her. The fact that she was naked spurred Eric on all the more, his thoughts raging wildly within his head as he saw himself coming up behind her, pinning her against the wall of the shower, and drinking in her shocked expression.
It really was horrible for him to have these sorts of urges, she'd just been through hell, and was injured in many places, but he couldn't stop himself from imagining what he could do to her. The way her heated skin would feel beneath his cold hand, the slippery way their lips would rub against each other. The sounds she would make as he caressed her, she'd squirm and shiver as his hand traveled lower down her body, and how she'd try to push him away weakly. Eventually she'd find a way to hit him, catch him off guard, but he would catch her all the same and finish what he started.
As his eyes followed the curve of her form as he noticed all the tattoos that he had been curious about before. There was one on the back of her shoulder, one near her hip; the one of her arm that he knew was there, one on her ankle, another on her thigh, and perhaps more on the other side of her. As far as he knew she had five, she had once said that they were covering scars, which meant that a lot of things had happened to her. How had they come about though? Had she said anything about that?
He'd asked her about it once before, and she said that he already knew the answer, but the only thing she'd told him about home was that she hated her brother. That if she had stayed in Erudite she would have killed him, but did that mean he was connected to her scars?
After a moments wondering though Eric growled with realization, she'd been anxious for visiting day. He could tell with the way they had interacted the day before, somehow she had been on edge. It was the small comments that she had made when he first pinned her against the wall. How she burned with anger whenever one asked her the origin of her scars. Then to assume that he already knew the answer to the question he was asking, somewhere, somehow, her brother was responsible for all that she was, and all that had happened to her. For some of it Eric was grateful, for her to be so mysterious and interesting, but to carry such marks of past wounds made him bitter and resentful. The tree rings were a sign that she was now claimed by Dauntless, but the scars underneath claimed right to one person.
"Do you have any clothes I can change into?" Her voice startled him out of his thoughts.
"Do you really need clothing?" He mused, with a malicious smirk on his face. The comment earned him a bland stare as Reeve looked over her shoulder at him, not a hint of humor on her face, he recognized the attitude. This was the personality she had shown upon first entering Dauntless, the indifferent, stern expression that would not put up with any of his crap.
"I can go ask someone else," she muttered, turning off the shower.
"Go ahead, walk out the door naked," he challenged, wanting to see how far her resolve traveled.
"Just give me a shirt," she snarled, turning to glare at him. His smirk triumphed over her sneer, the way she was right now made him excited, for it was the very behavior she had right now that had made him so interested in her in the first place. It was the façade that he enjoyed breaking, and chipping away at little by little. Watching all the expressions, and reactions that came with it was what made him really excited. Now he could do everything all over again, or at least until she was out of her things can't get any worse mood.
The first thing he would do is force her to take sleeping medicine.
"Here," he tossed one of his t-shirts into the bathroom.
"Thanks," she said, in a voice so sarcastic it sounded genuine.
For a little while there was silence between the two of them as Reeve dried herself off, and slipped into the shirt, putting her underwear back on, and drying her hair as best as possible before walking back into the room. Eric had picked up a book to at least pretend he was reading, and not just staring at her exposed skin the whole time. There was still a deep lust that was stuck in the back of his throat. His shirt went down to her upper thighs, but when she moved her shoulders or reached for something he could see the whispers of her skin underneath.
She looked over at him for a second, before sitting down in front of his bookshelf, and looking for something to read herself. He watched the way her eyes darted between the titles, landing on certain books before losing her interest, and moving on to the next one, he almost laughed at the way she didn't ask him for anything. Anyone else in Dauntless would tremble and shiver in his room, unsure of what they were allowed to do, and ask him if everything they were doing was okay, it had happened before. Reeve didn't care, she ignored him completely, and pulled a book from his shelf. Starting at the first page before scooting over to lean against the wall they faced each other, both with their noses in a book.
Only when she chuckled softly did Eric look up to see what had been so funny, but she wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were occupied by whatever was on the page, her different colored orbs alight with humor that he had not yet seen. Somehow he had been forgotten in his room, because the only thing Reeve seemed to care about at the moment was the book in front of her face, even with Eric's gaze bearing down upon her.
Finally she seemed to feel his gaze, and looked at him without moving her head. Her expression hardened, and returned to the same stoic mask she had been wearing since she'd gotten out of the shower. Frowning at the Dauntless leader when he smirked at her, Reeve went back to reading her book, now more careful not to let her emotions show through her reading.
That was how they were for a while, reading well into the night. Reeve barely noticed how the soft white light of evening changed slowly darker, and then all at once turned black. Perhaps the only reason she could tell was because it had suddenly become harder to read, and she'd seen Eric rise from his seat to turn on a light. An hour later she watched him from her peripheral vision as he took off his jacket vest, she hadn't been meaning to stare, but the movement caught her eye. Compared to Peter Eric was bigger, his arms looked stiffer and more muscular, making her remember the time he had pinned her to the door in the med bay. She frowned at the memory, pissed off to even remember such a thing, she thought of how Peter had gone for her neck the same way Eric had all those time. It made her sick to think about it again.
"Go to sleep," she heard Eric say after a little while. Reeve looked up at him to see that he was staring down at her indifferently, though he did motion to the bed once he had her attention.
"Go ahead," she mumbled, turning back to look at her book. Without saying anything he grabbed it from her hands and threw it onto the covers, it bounced slightly and seemed to mock her from across the room. Eric crossed his arms sternly, as if he was talking to a child, she being the child, not something that made her feel any better. "I'm not going to be able to," she muttered, glaring at him darkly.
"I know," he agreed with her before taking something from his pocket. He offered it to her; two tiny pills cradled in his big hand, Reeve gave him an incredulous expression.
"No," her voice was stern, "I won't take that."
She expected him to get angry, or look somewhat fatigued by trying to get her to comply with him, but instead he grinned at her, as if he knew something she didn't.
"You will," he said simply, with a smile on his face. He advanced on her until she stood up, and it was her against the wall and him a step away from her. She recognized the situation, and stepped to get away from him. He followed, keeping a stoic look on his face that made Reeve irritated to look at it. His expression made it seem like he was going to win no matter what she did, and that bugged her.
"No," she chuckled, "I'll stay with Mal tonight, he's probably a lot safer than you," she sneered, moving quickly to go to the door. She hadn't even taken two steps when he slammed his arm into the wall next to her, halting her movement, and scaring her slightly at the same time.
"Who do you think gave me these?" He mused, holding the pills between his fingers. Eric smirked at her when she cursed softly under her breath, Mal was always trying to get her to sleep more, and rest even when she didn't want to, "They'll help you sleep."
"Then you take them," she seethed, starting to feel nervous. He was too close to her, and she kept getting flashes of Peter appearing in front of her, the way he'd leered at her before licking his lips. She leaned backwards, slumping on the wall slightly.
"Fine," he said, lifting them to his mouth. "Let me get some water first."
She watched him, feeling a little better when he walked away from her, but still unable to shed Peter from her mind completely, she hated that he was still in there. Plaguing her thoughts, and showing his ugly face for her to see, looking at her so lustfully while touching her so roughly.
"I don't need to sleep," she breathed, shakily. On the other side of the room Eric took a few gulps of water, he froze with the glass on his lips, and frowned slightly.
"I disagree," he said, before taking water into his mouth before popping in the pills. She sighed in relief while he walked back over towards her, he didn't say anything before putting his hands on either side of her head. Realizing what he was doing Reeve tried to slink to her knees to get away from him, but he was faster than that and cupped either side of her face before smashing his lips on hers. She tried to move her head to the side, he was holding her steady but much to his irritation she wouldn't open her mouth.
One of his hands traveled lower, the same way he had been imagining it would when she had been in the shower. She shivered, and whimpered when it slipped under her shirt, and underwear. Her eyes were closed so tightly Eric could only imagine what Peter had done to her to make her react like this, where had he touched her? This was probably awful for her, having him touch her the same way Peter had, but he had to show her that they were two separate people, not of the same kind.
The skin of her bottom was oh so smooth in his hand Eric almost forgot his main objective, and swallowed the water in his mouth. He stopped at the last second, and looking at her mischievously. She opened her eyes for a moment, to glare at him defiantly before he squeezed her left cheek, she gasped into his mouth. He took his chance, forcing the water into her own mouth along with the pills. For a moment Reeve chocked on the water before swallowing, again trying to flee from him, but only succeeding in pinning his hand against the wall on her skin.
The feeling of his hand grabbing at her skin was humiliating, and she couldn't help the blush that rose on her cheeks nor the feeling of anger that came up gargled in her throat. All thoughts of Peter immediately vacated her mind as anger towards Eric took over, she felt him smirk against her lips before shoving his tongue in her mouth. He searched her mouth for the pills, making sure that she had in fact swallowed them, and wasn't just trying to hide them until they broke apart. Her mouth was empty of pills, water, and breath as she beat against him weakly trying to breath in between kisses.
He knew that she was still tired, and weakened from what had happened, and he used it to his advantage. Moving down to join his other hand Eric gripped her right cheek as well. She twitched in his grasp, her lips still on her as she tried to figure out what to do against him. He responded instead pulling her towards him, lifting her light form off the ground slightly. He would not letting her breath until she wilted against him, all fight in her gone from exhaustion.
"Bastard," she said, breathlessly.
He could feel her breasts against his chest, reawakening an urge to do more to her, but he forced it down. If he did to her what Peter had done she would certainly leave Dauntless, and never return. Where would that leave him? Bored again? No. He could wait. He placed her on the bed not so carefully, smirking as if to say that he'd won without actually having to speak the word. She hissed at him, and whispered profanities softly.
"Fucking bastard," she tried to get up shakily.
For now it was enough to see her breathing heavily because of him. Her flushed cheeks, and loathsome expression were because of him, and he would definitely take responsibility for them.
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It had taken Eric a while to get to sleep after Reeve had succumbed to her sleeping pills. He was lying next to her on the bed while she was under the covers, and he on top of them. After sleeping on the ground for a couple nights his back was protesting, and since Reeve had woken it only seemed fair to share, since it was already his anyway.
He couldn't get over the way her skin had felt under his fingertips, how she'd been pressed up against him and fit so perfectly. It made him all the more angry that someone had seen his marks on her neck, decided that they didn't mean anything, and that they could just take whatever they wanted. That got him thinking about Reeve, and how she had so quickly become something that was his and only his. It made him bitter to think her with another person, even one of her friends, though Mal seemed to be the only one he was okay with.
What was this feeling calling? Certainly not love, for it was more like he possessed her that she could not hope for anyone else, because she already belonged to him. It was almost as if he was obsessed with her, but he couldn't let himself think like that, because she was his plaything. Not the other way around, to say that he was obsessed with her meant that she had him wrapped around her finger, and such was not the case.
It was fun to pick on her, and invigorating to see how far she could be pushed before she reacted, he enjoyed watching her flail around in his grasp like an out of control puppet. As soon as he had had her though, would he lose interest? Probably, because this wasn't love, it wasn't. She was simply something so help pass the time during all the stuff with Erudite, as soon as that plan was a go, he'd be done with her.
Reeve opened her eyes sharply, breathing heavily from a nightmare, her head ached as she tried to move to get up. She was restricted in her movements by something holding her down. There was something on top of her and wrapped around her torso, not suffocating her, but pressing down just enough to keep her from moving. It was dark, and she couldn't tell what it was, though all at once she knew it was Eric.
There was breathing coming from just next to her, and from what she could feel the thing restricting her movement was an arm that pulled her backwards. Which made her angry, first he had forced her to take sleeping pills, and then he restricted her from leaving by holding her in place. He was being exactly what she had called him earlier.
"Bastard," she whispered again.
If this was how it was going to be at Dauntless maybe she really should reconsider leaving, because Eric was someone she didn't want to deal with anymore, and if she saw Peter she might actually kill him. Why was it that she attracted the worst kind of attention, couldn't people just leave her alone when they saw that she hated people?
He'd even gone as far as touching her butt, something that Peter hadn't even attempted, because he'd only had one thing on his mind. Mark her and claim her, no, Eric was just getting her to take the pills so she would rest. Somehow it seemed too nice for the Dauntless leader to have such a harmless goal in mind. If she'd just taken the damn things he would never have touched her in the first place. Did that mean it was her fault? No, he should have just left her alone in the first place, given her some pants, and let her leave the room. To even think that it was somehow her fault was ridiculous, he had tried to reason with her.
To be fair she was feeling a little better after sleeping, though the pain killers had worn off, and her head was feeling a little bit fuzzy at the moment, it had been something she needed. Not that she would ever tell him that he had been right, he would certainly gloat in her face, and smirk like he always did. In his grasp she tried to squirm away from him, but his arms didn't budge, how anyone could sleep so soundly was beyond her. Finally giving up she stilled next to him, resolving to at least get some sleep before he woke up, and decided to force more pills into her mouth.
The one thing she couldn't deny herself of realizing, the last thought on her mind before her eyes closed was once again almost ironic. Peter had been forceful, and rough with her, taking without caring for an answer. While Eric had been gentle, not pinching her skin, nor biting her lips, he wasn't aiming to harm her.
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AN: So, what do you think? Ready for more lovely times with Reeve and Eric.
Don't forget to leave me a review, I like them... a lot.
Thanks for reading.