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"They were all over me! In my nose, in my mouth- I... I couldn't even open my eyes to try and see how many I was fighting off!"
Tris stirs a creamy salad on her plate with a fork, watching long pieces of carrot stick out from different angles. It is dinner time at Dauntless, and she isn't hungry. Her mind is somewhere else. And it is not with Christina's babble of her latest simulation practice.
"You could have just whacked some off your face," Will pipes in, chewing his curly fries.
"I was panicking!" Christina rolls her eyes, forcing her tongue against her lips, releasing an idle sucking noise, "Don't get smart with me, Erudite. It was really hard."
Will ignores his old nickname and drapes an arm over her shoulders while Al awkwardly looks away, "I know, I know, I'm sorry."
Somehow that brings a smile to Christina's face. And her next reply is inaudible against Will's ear.
Tris forces a chip into her mouth, chewing thoroughly as some Dauntless born leave their table. She has been here for too long and her meal is not half-finished. People are setting off already.
She just can't stop thinking about Eric. His lips. His arms. His eyes.
It's funny to think that he almost killed her when she first arrived here. He was brutal and frustrating. He still is. But now Tris doesn't think of those as such bad traits.
A sigh escapes her lungs. Yep. She is losing her mind.
"Hey," Christina laughs, reaching over to steal a fry from her plate, "What's wrong with you?"
"You're stealing her food, the girl is upset-"
"Shut up," she eyes her boyfriend, nudging him in the ribs, "But seriously, you seem miles away." She chews the fry, folding her arms on the table.
The lie rolls off her tongue as if she has rehearsed this line a million times, "I'm just worried I won't pass initiation."
"Come on," Al smiles slightly, his eyes more distant to his friends than hers are, "Nobody came close to your time. You are amazing-"
"Yeah, what's amazing is that she's gonna knock you right out of Dauntless," Peter's annoying voice approaches. She looks up, rolling her eyes. There is no time for this, "What's your trick?"
Thankfully, her friends blank out his voice by the sounds of theirs. She smiles slightly when Christina drops an 'F' bomb.
"I don't have a trick," she replies, standing up before he can say another word. She nods at Christina in a way of saying goodbye and starts walking towards the exit. Peter yells something behind her but she is too smart to listen. Wow. She has been so preoccupied fixing this feud between Four and Eric that she completely forgot about her Divergence for a minute.
She needs to get a grip. She could be killed any minute. Remember what Tory said... Remember what my mom said...
Her feet carry her down a hallway she knows all too well. Within a week, she memorized the whole compound. Even the bits she isn't supposed to memorize. Like the way to Eric's apartment.
She stops. This is ridiculous. He is literally everywhere. Her obsession will soon put her in danger. Death may well happen. Her luck has not been great.
"Stiff," his voice growls in the distance. She bites her bottom lip, positive that she imagined it. But then she looks up. And he is there. Eric. Walking... no. Storming towards her. His feet vibrate the building, that's what it feels like.
Oh-uh.
His eyes are hard as rock. His mouth is set into a firm line. He is pissed. And that is an understatement.
Tris opens her mouth to say something, but a silhouette behind his shoulder stops her speech formation. Her eyes flick from Eric's face, to the figure in the distance. It seems to be approaching her as well, when suddenly it stops. And tilts its head.
"Come here," Eric whispers, crashing his lips against hers. She moans automatically, stumbling back from the force. Is he angry? Or horny? Or what?
His fingers threaten to leave bruises as he grips her head, pulling her even closer to him. She closes her eyes.
There is definitely anger in the kiss, but she can't help and think that she might be mistaking it for passion. Her arms lace around his neck, not knowing what else to do. Eric let's out a low growl as one of his hands slithers down, cupping her ass. She gasps loudly, not expecting any of it.
They are in public, what if someone sees? Her heart starts racing. And again, her emotions become unclear. Is it fear or lust? What is going on?
Eric slams her against the nearest wall, pressing his broad hips directly into hers. She pulls back slightly, a heat washing over her, "Eric," she manages to say, tilting her head away from him.
He seems to know when to stop. And he does. He leans back and gives her space to breathe and slides his hands over to her hips instead. She looks up, expecting to meet his eyes. But he is looking somewhere else. At someone else.
She follows his gaze, squinting to see through the darkened hallway. The silhouette is still there. For a moment she is convinced that her mind is playing tricks. That wouldn't be surprising, to be honest. So she accepts her truth.
Until the silhouette starts to move. It seems to be looking at her. She leans forward, holding onto Eric's arms for support.
She sees toned arms and a square jawline. She sees the tattoo as he turns to leave. She sees Four.
Her blood drains from her head in an instant. Was she really that stupid?
A deep chuckle rumbles somewhere in Eric's chest before he looks back down at Tris. She gulps quietly and starts to move. The urge to apologize has never been greater, even though she does not know what she would be apologizing for. Making out with Four's enemy, perhaps?
Eric stills her, holding her body tightly against his, "Don't go running off now, Stiff."
Something in his tone sounds a bit too sinister. Their eyes lock.
His icy orbs stare at her, pupils dilating every second. She sees something. Something.
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" her voice is slightly above a whisper, cracking and breaking as she speaks. A flash of sympathy crosses his face. But that's all it is. A flash.
"Do you know what gives me the greatest pleasure?" a smirk appears on his face, "Knowing that Four thinks I am fucking his girlfriend."
Girlfriend? Fucking? Tris can't even begin to explain how much he is wrong about.
"But we're not... we never even-"
"Shh," Eric presses a finger to her lips, following it up by a soft kiss, "I won't tell if you don't."
Tris shakes her head, trying to push him away. This is wrong. She cannot lie to Four like this. She should have told him about her plan as soon as she thought of it.
"I'm not his girlfriend, Eric," she manages to say. It's pathetic. So much going on and this is all she manages to say?
He doesn't reply. Something tells her he knows the truth. But he is trying to twist everything.
Her heart sinks. Her own plan has backfired.
Instead of calming the feud, she only managed to make it worse. She hurt Four. She enraged Eric even more. And to her surprise, a part of her fills up with dread. Guilt. A tinge of heartbreak.
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