Chapter Two: I wouldn't ask you.
Tris
The crate is heavy, and the edges sting the skin of my inner arms. It's a bittersweet pain. This is the very last box I have to move into the apartment. Our apartment. When it came time to leave the initiate dorms, it seemed natural to move in with Tobias. Natural to us, seemingly unheard of to everyone else.
..
"When did this start?" Max asked with a voice like hard gravel and heavy suspicion in his eyes, holding the housing request form in a clenched hand.
To his disappointment, neither of us squirmed.
"After initiation." Tobias replied, just as coldly. "Is there a problem?"
"Not yet."
..
Out of all the living spaces available, the apartments are the least popular. We very nearly have the entire floor to ourselves. Most Dauntless prefer communal living – the never-ending stream of action and comradery.
In the rare quiet moments, usually when Tobias is still at work and the silence weighs too heavy, I almost miss the anarchy of my friends and life in the dorms. Uriah, Lynn, and Marlene chose to live in the large Glass Building above the Pit – close enough to Zeke to cause plenty of trouble without actually living together again. Christina decided on one of the duplexes in the lower level of the compound, and Will naturally followed suit. Their only fight now revolves around which one will break and move in with the other. My bet is on Will.
Peter chose to live in the Glass Building as well, and Uriah tells me that they terrorize him as much as possible. While I'm thrilled I don't have to see him much anymore, his newfound closeness with Eric and Max turns my stomach into knots. Every Dauntless member has their own schedule, but when we all gather for meals, the three of them are basically inseparable. After a few weeks of my suspicions growing by the day, I finally mentioned it to Tobias.
"Why are they always together? What could they all have in common?" I asked.
He dropped a stack of files on the desk and pulled me onto his lap.
"Other than sociopathic tendencies? Not much."
I let out a reluctant smile, and he kissed my cheek.
"I know what you mean. I've noticed it too. You have to be pretty high up to spend that much time with leadership, and Peter isn't. Max and Eric don't befriend people for no reason, so something's up."
His eyes tightened in the corners, and the uneasy feeling expanded in my chest.
"I'll look into it," he promised, drawing small circles on my hipbone where my shirt had ridden up.
I nodded and kissed him.
I drop the box unceremoniously on the tiny kitchen table.
Unfolding the edges, I find a pile of wall hangings and a note.
To spice up the man cave. At least put some of it up.
Love you Stiff,
-W & C
I sift through the contents and find some of the canvases colored with graffiti spray-paint – different words painted so intricately they're almost impossible to decipher. There's a larger painting of the silhouette of the city. The buildings are black, but illuminated by brilliant, white stars hanging gracefully in a sky of midnight blue. It reminds me of the night we played paintball. The very last painting is at the bottom of the box. The thick canvas is painted with huge, black, feathery wings that span out as if they're in flight.
Tori's signature is at the bottom of the canvas, and I'm so busy marveling at her talent I barely hear Tobias come through the door. His heavy footsteps fall behind me.
"What's all this?"
"It's from Will and Christina," I extend my arms to show him the painting. "They thought we needed something to break up all the empty space. The city one is great, but I think this one is my favorite."
He nods thoughtfully.
"It's beautiful." He traces his thumb over Tori's signature. "I didn't know she painted."
"Me neither, I should probably tell her thanks."
"You can come with me if you want." He wraps an arm around my waist. I feel his chest against my shoulder blades, generating warmth through my tank top.
"What do you mean?"
He shrugs his shoulders.
"I'm going to the tattoo parlor, and I'm guessing she'll be there."
I set the painting on the counter and loop my arms around his neck. His large hands rub up and down the length of my back in smooth strokes.
"You're getting a tattoo?"
He kisses me quickly.
"Wanna come?"
I nod rapidly.
"Let's go."
"Four!" Bud shouts, the sound garbled by the cigarette in his mouth. "What've you been up to, man?"
He drags a paper towel along the arm of the man he's working on, blood and excess ink soaking the fibers.
"Not much." Tobias replies, casual and distant.
It's like a switch inside of him – the changing of his personality. It's amazing how quickly that warm, passionate, funny side of him disappears from the public eye.
"You needing some new ink?" Bud questions. "Or is it you craving the needle, First Jumper?"
I like Bud. Despite his outwardly terrifying appearance, he's always in a good mood with a funny story to tell.
"Me." Tobias says shortly.
Bud chuckles and ashes fall from his cigarette, nearly singeing a hole in his shirt.
"Well I've got my hands full with this one," he motions to the sweaty man reclined on the chair. A stencil of a massive, striking snake winds up the length of his arm and only a quarter of it is filled in. "Tori can help you out though – Tori!"
"What?" She emerges from the storage room, arms full with several small boxes and rolls of plastic wrap. "Oh! Hey guys, what's up?"
"Do you think you'd have time for a tattoo?"
Her face lights up in surprise.
"Sure!" She motions toward one of the large chairs in the far corner.
Tobias squeezes my hand, and looks around carefully before removing his shirt. As he settles into the chair I'm wondering where he's going to put this one. His back is completely covered in ink and only the left side of his chest remains unmarked. I know he wouldn't tattoo his arms, Tobias isn't like that. He doesn't want his tattoos to be shown off or admired. The permanent marks on his skin are for him alone.
"Where were you thinking?" Tori asks, snapping on a new pair of black latex gloves.
Tobias traces a long finger along the underside of his left pectoral. Where he marks is so far over, it's almost on the side of his ribcage but not quite. Tori nods as she pulls out the gun and wraps it with plastic.
"Alright, you know what you want?" She sits on a stool with wheels, scooting until she's against his left side - gun in hand.
He motions for her to come closer. He whispers so quietly, I don't have a chance of hearing what he's saying. Why bring me along?
I see a hint of smile play at the corner of Tori's lips.
"Here we go."
She dips the tip of the gun into a small pot of black ink.
She touches the needle to Tobias's skin. He doesn't even flinch. I want to see - I slowly walk toward the back of his chair.
"Don't even think about it, Tris." He snaps. "Go look at the wall or something."
Tori laughs but doesn't look up.
"He's right, girl. This won't take long at all."
I sigh loudly. I walk to the wall and see that they've added several new pieces since the last time I was here. There are templates of eight legged creatures with red stripes down their backs, tribal animals made up of different shapes, but the most striking image is a head of a lion. The outline is huge, but it's so remarkable I feel a craving to see it on my skin. There's so much detail - I can see the short hairs of his muzzle, the glossiness of his eyes, and the thin precise lines of his whiskers. His mane is just as beautiful, thick and full, with feathers infused into the hair. Feathers.
"Oh Tori!" I gasp. Her eyes flash up to mine, but only for a second. "Christina gave me that painting of the black wings. It's fantastic. I just wanted to say thanks."
"Yeah," She smiles. "I remember that one. I didn't really know what I was doing until I'd finished. It reminded me of you ... couldn't tell you why."
I smile at her awkwardly – unsure how I could ever be associated, even subconsciously, with something that beautiful.
The vibrating noise of the gun stops and our corner of the room falls strangely quiet. Tori carefully rubs a healing gel onto his torso.
"All set." She pulls off her gloves. "You want a covering for it?"
"Nah, I'm good. Thanks."
He stands and picks up his shirt from the ground, slipping it on quickly.
She winks at me, gathers her materials, and disappears into the back room.
As he walks toward me, I narrow my eyes. I want to see it so badly.
"Curious?" he smirks.
I swing my fist and hit him in the arm. The blow creates a satisfying snapping sound, and his wince is even better.
"You know I am."
He lifts the hem of his shirt with a tender sort of smile.
IV & VI
Four and Six. Permanently etched into his skin with thick black lines - right under his pec, right above his heart. I feel my own speed up in my chest.
"What do you think?" he asks, the tone of his voice sounding something close to nervous.
I reach my hand out to touch the fine hair leading down his belly button. I slide my hand down further to the button of his black pants, reaching my fingers to grip the fabric. My knuckles brush his groin. His handsome face is frozen in shock. I stare into his eyes as I tug as hard as I can, his body crashes into mine.
His chest heaves against mine with heavy breaths. Sweat beads along his skin as I wrap my arm around his lower back, the other vining around his shoulder blades to run my fingers along his spine. I hold him tight and inhale the scent of him - musky with a hint of metal that pulls me in deep. It's this - the connection between us I crave daily when he isn't by my side.
His arms circle around me, muscles contracting as his hold grows tighter. Tighter and tighter and I feel like I'm being suffocated but I like it. I notice my head fits perfectly where his neck meets his shoulder, so I rest it there - kissing every part of his skin I can reach without having to move. He shudders against me.
I don't care if anyone sees us. I don't care if Bud tells the whole compound about us doing whatever we're doing in the middle of his tattoo shop. It doesn't matter. Nothing does, except Tobias.
I tilt my head so my mouth is next to his ear.
"I love it. I love you."
He turns his head and kisses me. The kiss is so strong, so much, I feel the air being sucked from my lungs, being replaced with desire to always feel this way.
"Let's go upstairs."
I nod quickly and lace my fingers with his.
Edited 11/18/2020