Learning To Let Them In

by aubreylovesthegames

Tris is broken. She is alive, but she isn't living. One day took everyone from her. She and her guardian, Tori, decide to move to Chicago for a fresh start. Tris pushes away everyone she meets, not wanting any 'friends', but that becomes a little difficult when the boy next door, Four, slowly starts to break her walls down, piece by piece. What will happen? Will Tris let them in?

41. Chapter 41

Disclaimer: If I owned Divergent then I wouldn't be here right now writing Fanfiction about it.

Chapter 41

Tris's POV

"Wanna get out of here?"

I look around the crowded room of drunk people and nod. Eric takes my hand and leads me upstairs. We enter my room, and as soon as I shut the door, Eric spins me around and presses me roughly up against it.

"What are you doing?!" I exclaim, pushing him off. Instead of backing off like I thought he would, his look gets malicious and he pushes hard on my hip bones, making me yelp and drop my phone.

"C'mon. Let's not make this harder than it has to be," he sneers and starts to leave sloppy kisses all over my neck.

"Eric, stop! I'm not ready!" I yell and try to push him away again.

He smirks. "How cute. You actually think I care."

I feel my heart drop into my stomach and fear replaces it. Instead of blood, fear is now pumping through me. I stare wide-eyed at him, silently pleading for him to stop. I know I have no chance of stopping him by myself. He laughs at my helplessness and throws me to the ground.

I hit my head on the side of the bed, making me a bit dizzy for the time being.

I feel Eric crawl on top of me and start to kiss me again. I raise my arms and start pushing him off again, but he simply uses his own arms to pin mine down. He trails his kisses to my collar bone area then suddenly takes his arms off and slaps me - hard.

The slap makes me even more dizzy for a few minutes, and when I finally am able to come out of it, I see that my shirt is off and that he's currently working on my bra. I let out a shrill scream, hoping that someone will hear.

Eric snaps his head up and slaps me again. It's enough to shut me up, even though I don't want to. Then I suddenly feel a searing pain coming from my stomach. I scream out of instinct and look down. I see blood pooling out of a long and scraggly cut from my chest to the lower part of my rib cage.

"If you would've stayed quiet, this wouldn't have had to happen!" he yells and slaps me once more. I'm very disoriented now and can barely make out what anything is with the state I'm in. All I know is that if I don't do something to stop him soon, bad things will happen.

"Stop," I whimper helplessly.

He raises his lips up from my chest and I sigh in relief; that is, until his lips meet mine. His lips are rough and uninviting. I try to pull away, but that only makes him kiss me with more power, more force. He kisses me until I have trouble breathing. I desperately try to wriggle myself out of his grip, but it's to no avail.

I feel like I'm about to pass out from the lack of air when suddenly the lips become softer, warmer, more gentle, and I can finally breathe. I take a huge gulp of air and realize that I no longer feel Eric's lips on any part of me. But those were not Eric's lips that were soft and gentle...those lips were familiar.

"Tris, wake up."

I blink repeatedly to try and get my vision clear, and when it finally does, I see nobody in the room. I frown, confused. What happened to Eric?

"Wake up, Tris. Wake up."

I'm shaken lightly by what seems to be the air, and I gasp in pain when it disturbs the still bleeding wound on my stomach.

"It hurts," I whimper.

"It's just a dream, Tris. C'mon! Wake up!"

I close my eyes as lips gently land on mine again. They're only there briefly.

"Please wake up. If you can hear me, this is just a dream. Wake up."

I cover my wound as I listen. Just a dream?

It is a dream. It has to be a dream. I'm not 14 anymore. I don't live in this house. I got this scar years ago. It's a dream.

"Wake up, Tris! Wake up!"

I wake with a gasp and fly upwards, covering my top half still. My head hits something solid and I groan.

"Thank God!"

I look to see what I hit, and I find that I smacked into a very solid shoulder. I look up and see Tobias, looking very worried.

"I just had a nightmare, it's okay," I eventually whisper to him.

"But it wasn't like any other nightmare, Tris! You weren't screaming or thrashing around; you were murmuring and whimpering and you couldn't breathe right! I couldn't wake you up! I tried everything!"

My eyebrows come together, thinking about my nightmare.

"Did you kiss me?" I ask him. He looks stunned, but nods anyways. "I felt it. Eric was...Eric was 'kissing' me, and I couldn't breathe...then...then he faded away and you replaced him. Your voice told me it was just a dream and that I needed to wake up."

He slowly nods. "So you could hear me."

"Yes, I could hear you."

He sighs and brings me into his arms. I lean my head on his chest and take in deep breaths of his scent. He eventually pulls back and holds me out at arm's length..

"Are you okay?"

His eyebrows are scrunched together and his face is pinched into a very concerned frown.

"Stop worrying. It wasn't...it wasn't as bad as usual. It wasn't very made up...it was more of a flashback than anything. Maybe that's why."

A deeper frown makes its way onto his face. "Maybe," he says, obviously unconvinced of the nightmare's supposed level of harshness. I don't blame him; I'm unconvinced too. "You never answered my question."

I sigh and think about how I want to answer. I ponder it for a few moments. "I…" I sigh again. "I didn't answer that for a reason."

I can tell he thinks about questioning me further, but he must decide to let it go. He gestures towards my upper body, changing the subject. "You've been covering that ever since you woke up."

I look down and see that I'm still holding my hands over my scar. I take them down and blush.

"I didn't know I was doing that."

He looks like he wants to ask something, but he must decide against it, for he shakes his head just slightly and closes his mouth.

"What is it?" I ask gently.

He kisses my forehead. "Nevermind."

"No. I want to know," I stubbornly demand.

He hesitates before answering. "I was going to ask if the 'flashback' was of the night he gave you that scar."

I look down and nod. "Yes. It was."

He grits his teeth together and shakes his head again at himself. I frown and place one of my hands on his face.

"Tobias, you can ask me anything. You know that, right?"

He places his hand over mine, gently pulling it off his cheek and lacing our fingers together.

"Just forget about it, okay?"

"No."

He sighs and rests his forehead on mine. "Could you, just this once, not be stubborn?"

"No." He sighs again and pulls back, defeated. "Please tell me what it is," I beg.

He shakes his head again. "No."

I roll my eyes, pulling another card. I could probably pull off any card I wanted to right now due to my lack of emotion. The blank slate allows me to manipulate my facial features into any emotion I need. I decide to act like a playful, witty, and (slightly) pushy blonde.

"Listen, to save us the time I'm just going to play out the conversation that will inevitably happen. So…" I clear my throat. "'Tell me!', 'No', 'Please Tobias, please tell me', 'Tris, forget about it', 'I'm not going to forget and I will pester you until you break'." At this point I let out a massive sigh. "'Tris, let it go', 'I'm not going to let it go', 'I'm Tobias and I'm a giant, stubborn brat and fight battles I'm inevitably going to lose-'"

"Hey, hey, hey!" he exclaims, chuckling a bit.

"'-and then give in and tell my girlfriend what she wants to know because I'm a good boyfriend.'"

He playfully glares at me. "You're really something, you know that?" he says with a twinkle in his eye.

"What? I was just helping us save time!" I exclaim innocently.

He smirks, leans down, and presses his lips against mine. I smile and kiss back for a while, then interrupt it by saying, "Don't think you're getting out of this."

He sighs and chastely kisses me once more. "Tris, it's a stupid question. Please let it go."

"Hey, I already ran through this conversation, and we both know how it ends."

He rolls his eyes. "Tris, really, it's stupid."

"You really want to do this?"

He purses his lips together. I let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Well, alright then. If that's what you want." I take a deep breath. "'There's no such thing as a stupid question,'" I say, mocking Jeanine.

He gives me an annoyed look. "Tris, stop."

"'All questions are born with a purpose, and they are always worth asking no matter how important you think others might perceive it.'"

"Tris."

"I'm not going to stop until you tell me what you were thinking about."

He is quiet for a few moments then sighs and flops back down on the bed beside me, looking up at the ceiling. I lay down as well and roll over on top of him. I playfully cross my arms and place them on his chest, resting my chin on them and looking straight down at Tobias. He rolls his eyes and tries to push me off.

"Go to sleep, Tris."

"A different tactic will not work, Mr. Eaton."

"Tris, I'm serious. Stop."

"Never."

"Could you not be a bullheaded brat and listen to me for once?!" he suddenly exclaims, and the show I've been putting on fades away from my features.

I stare at him, cheeks burning, then roll off of him, all the fun gone. I lay with my back facing him, trying to wash off the embarrassment I feel for being yelled at. At least I feel something.

"Hey," he sighs. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

I lay still, not ready to face him yet.

"Tris," he says quietly and his hands wrap around me. They roll me over to face him and I look down at his chest.

"I didn't mean that."

"Well forgive me for thinking it sounded like you did," I mumble sarcastically.

"Tris," he says and tilts my head up. "I'm sorry. I really, truly, didn't mean that. I swear I didn't. I love it when you're stubborn and playful; it's cute. It's one of the reasons I love you, But for some reason I just...broke this time. I know this doesn't give me an excuse, but it's been a rough couple of days. After seeing what Eric did to you and knowing it was your stubbornness that almost got you killed…" He sighs, and, from that single sound of quiet despair, I can hear the rest of the words that didn't manage to escape his lips. "I'm sorry, Tris."

I look into his guilty eyes and know he's being honest. "I'm sorry too. For annoying you."

"Just because I apologize for something doesn't mean you need to apologize too. You don't have to say sorry for trying to have some fun."

I look down, fading back to nothing. I hesitate before I ask the next question.

"Will you tell me now what you were thinking?"

He sighs, defeated. I wiggle out of his grip and sit up, looking down at him. I switch from sitting to kneeling so I can get a better view of his eyes. He stares at me for a while. I bite my lip and look away. Maybe I shouldn't have brought this up again.

"You really want to know, don't you?"

I nod without much thought. His body moves a moment later, and then he's sitting up right across from me. His hand comes to my cheek and moves my head to look at him.

"Can you tell me?" I blurt out.

He blinks a few times, then sighs. "I'm afraid it's too personal."

"Tobias…I think we've gotten past the point of being afraid to ask each other personal questions," I gently tell him. "We already told each other our life stories. I...I don't think anything could be much more personal than that."

"Just...please know you reserve the right to say no, okay?" he says, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

"Okay…?" I say questioningly.

He takes a deep breath and grabs both of my hands. "I was wondering if I could...if I could see it."

I frown. "My scar?" I ask quietly. He nods. I'm about to say yes, but then I remember how high up it goes and blush without meaning to.

"Like I said, Tris, you don't have to. It was just-"

"No. You...you can see it," I whisper barely audible.

"Are you su-"

"I'm sure. Besides, you've shown me yours. It's about time I show you mine."

His eyes narrow. "That's not the reason you're showing me, right? Because you feel obligated to?"

I shake my head. "No. It's only...part of the reason," I say while thinking about the other part.

"Tris, I don't want to see it if you don't want me too."

"Stop, Tobias. Please. I...I'm tired of letting my fear get the best of me."

He frowns and lets go of one of my hands. He uses his now free hand to brush back a few pieces of hair from my face.

"You're sure?"

I nod slowly. "I'm sure." My stomach has butterflies in it, but I push that aside.

"Turn the lamp on," I whisper and lay down on my back.

Dim light fills the room moments later. I bite my lip and clench my fists, trying to stop my hands from shaking.

Relax, Tris. It's just Tobias, and it's just one scar. Relax.

I take a deep breath and run my lip through my teeth. I meet Tobias's eyes for just a moment before I flick them away.

"Tris?" he asks.

"Yeah?" My voice shakes.

His hand finds my shaky one. "Would it make you feel better if we progressed into it?"

"Probably...but what do you mean?" I shakily ask.

"Sit up."

I hesitate, but then I do as he says. His free hand cups my cheek and he brings his lips to mine. I'm confused as to what he meant, but I kiss him back anyways. This could be his own way of making me feel better about this.

I've been too numb lately...too...nonexistent. I want to feel something, even if it is fear.

Let me rephrase that: I need to feel something.

If that means I have to jump several steps ahead and do something I'm not ready for yet, like last night when I went further than I ever have with Tobias, then I'll do it, if only to pump fear through my veins instead of nothingness.

I let him take over my lips so he controls how deep the kiss goes. He is completely dominant over me; the only thing I can do is follow his lead the best I can.

And then I see what he meant by 'progressing into it'. His fingers slip just beneath the back hem of my shirt and my stomach does a weird little flip. A chill goes over me. His fingers are cold, but his touch is warm. I'm unsure of how that works, but I don't let myself get a headache over it.

We kiss for longer, and as we do, his fingers keep sliding a bit higher and the kiss gets softer. I can't help but grab hold of his arms, silently asking him to slow. The fear is too much; I need to adjust to his touch before he goes any higher.

He gets the message and stops his movements for a while. When I've grown accustomed to his gentle caresses, I weakly squeeze his arms, letting him know he can continue. His fingers start to slide up again until his entire hands are resting on my bare skin. My shirt finally rises from its original spot. As his hands crawl farther up, so does my shirt. I feel the cool air hit my skin full force, and goosebumps arise.

I start to wonder if maybe I shouldn't have done this. My breaths are coming in quite ragged when I manage to get air, and my stomach twists faster and harder than it ever has before. My heart is racing. Maybe this was more than I bargained for; after all, it's much scarier taking off my shirt than it is Tobias's. But then I come to the realization that I'm actually feeling something, and that is all I need to remind myself of why I started this and why I can't stop now.

His hands reach my middle back and the kiss begins to slow even more as he retracts his dominance and leaves me in control. I can tell, like how I squeezed his arms, that this is how he sends his messages: when I'm ready, I pull back, but until then, the kiss will stay slow so as not to scare me. Well...not scare me more than it already has, anyways.

I eventually, after a few more minutes of soft kissing and convincing myself that this is worth it, start to pull back. When I open my eyes, he stares questioningly in them, asking for permission. I take a shaky breath and raise my arms up. His fingers slowly bring my shirt up, giving me the option to back out if I want to.

I don't.

I was being honest earlier when I said I was tired of letting my fear get the best of me. I am tired of it. I'm tired of letting Eric have such a strong hold on my life. But the real reason I'm doing this is because I'm tired of feeling the numbness in everything I do. I'm tired of being weak and helpless.

His fingers, now on my shoulders, stop moving upwards, and I, visibly shaking, pull my arms out of my shirt. I have trouble breathing normally when the shirt comes completely off. I don't want to feel this afraid; I don't want fear to have this much of a hold over me. But then again, this is progress. The sick, heavy, anxious feeling that can only be described as fear is crawling through me, filling me up and replacing the numbness with something much more valuable.

I close my eyes and lay back down, crossing my arms over myself instinctively. I take shaky breaths and feel my body shake as well at the exposure of skin. The only thing that's left on the upper half of my body is my bra, and even then, that's not much...at least, not when it comes to this

"Open your eyes, Tris," Tobias says very softly, perhaps softer than I've ever heard him speak. It confuses me. He doesn't speak soft; he speaks with conviction, speaks with fire. It's not like him to speak to me like this, like I'm a little girl. So when he does, I know that he knows I'm scared. But what he doesn't know is that I'm confused; I'm confused about whether or not I want to be afraid. I am afraid, and I can't change that, but do I want to be? Do I want fear to be the emotion that fills me, or do I want to feel...something else?

I slowly do as he asks, and his blue eyes pierce mine.

"Now, put your arms down."

My breaths catch at his words and my eyes water. "I don't think I can," I whimper, having second thoughts about this whole 'feeling something' idea for about the millionth time.

"You can, Tris. I know you can."

I stare into his eyes for a minute, thinking. "Promise you won't look?" I whisper. I know this is a stupid question as soon as I ask it; of course he is going to look. That's the whole point of this. He has to look to see my scar...he has to look in order to make the fear I feel intensify like I want it to.

Luckily, Tobias is able to twist the question into a bit different one, and it makes me feel a little less stupid.

"I promise I won't look until you tell me to."

I stare at him for a while, my eyes burning with fear. He looks into them calmly, as if there's nothing in this world to be scared of. I know it's not his intention to make me feel humiliated by my fear, but it's what makes me slowly and shakily lower my arms to my sides.

I come to the conclusion that I do want to feel scared, I do want to feel this. The reason I don't want to be afraid is because I know this certain fear is irrational. I don't want to be afraid of intimacy. But I'm glad I am, otherwise I would still be numb right now.

He lightly smiles at me. "See? You can do it."

I close my eyes for a moment and try to take a deep breath. It comes in and out very brokenly, but it still works. I open my eyes back up to meet his.

"You...you can look now," I whisper barely loud enough to hear. Fortunately, he does, and he grabs my hand before doing so. I squeeze it with all my might, my shaking hand becoming a bit more steady in his grip.

His eyes look down at my stomach and his expression slowly morphs from one of calmness to one of sadness. My mind immediately jumps to the conclusion that he's disappointed by what he sees, that he's disappointed this is what he has for a girlfriend. A flat chested, lacking of curves, not-so-pretty girlfriend.

I start to hyperventilate and struggle to sit up, tears leaking from my eyes, regrets flying through my head. I frantically search for my shirt, but I can't see out of my blurry, spinning vision.

"Tris, hey, what's going on? Tris!"

He gently pushes me back down and looks worriedly into my eyes again.

"Tris, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," I wheeze.

"What could you possibly be sorry for?" he asks, confused.

I manage to get bits and pieces of sentences out of my mouth.

"Sorry...being….this."

He frowns. "For being what?"

"This….sorry...scared...I...disappointing."

He takes both of my hands in his. "Alright, I need you to breathe, okay? Breathe with me."

He takes visible large breaths in and out, and I eventually am able to follow his lead. My vision slightly clears. After a few minutes of this, he starts again.

"You're sorry for being what?"

My lip wobbles. "I'm sorry for being scared and disappointing," I nearly whimper. More negative emotions are filling me, demanding to be felt.

He frowns again. "Where the hell did you get disappointing from?"

"Your face...when you looked at me…" I start to cry. "You looked sad."

He looks very appalled. "You thought I was disappointed in the way you looked?"

More tears escape my eyes and all I can do is nod.

"Tris. I was never, and never will be, disappointed in the way you looked. How could you even think that?!"

"You...you weren't disappointed in the way I looked?"

He sighs. "No, Tris. God no."

I stare at him for a while before speaking up again. "Are you telling the truth?"

He slightly shakes his head, but I can tell he didn't shake it to answer the question. He shook it in more of a disbelieving way.

"Of course I'm telling the truth. I think you're beautiful."

I blush and look away, the fear starting to subside a bit. I take this time to get some deep breaths in before I force myself to feel again. "You don't need to over exaggerate. It's okay; I know I'm not beautiful...I'm not even pretty."

He lets go of one of my hands and rests it on my cheek instead, brushing off my tears, and turns my head to face his again.

"I'm not over exaggerating, Tris. You're absolutely breathtaking."

My cheeks get even more red, but he doesn't let me move my head to look away.

"I'm not…" I can't even bring myself to say 'breathtaking'. "...don't say that. I'm not."

He sighs. "You are to me, okay? To me, every piece of you, inside and out, is breathtakingly gorgeous. You're perfect. Don't ever think that I'm disappointed in the way you look, because I'm not. Don't ever think that again, you hear?"

I blush harder and manage to look away this time. "Okay," I whisper. It's quiet for a few moments. "Then what were you sad about?"

"I saw the scar, and I was sad that you had it. I was sad about the story behind the scar and how much you went through to get it. That's what I was sad about."

I sigh, feeling pathetic, negative emotions filling me again. "I'm sorry."

"Stop saying sorry, Tris. It's okay."

I bite my lip. "You can look again now," I whisper.

I feel his eyes burn into my head, but then the stare moves away and I feel his eyes on my stomach once again. I can't bring myself to look at him; I don't want my mind making anymore wrong conclusions.

It's peacefully quiet for a few minutes. I work on filling myself up with fear again, but I find that it's a bit difficult. I'm startled and caught off-guard when fingers touch the scar; I jump and finally look at Tobias, no longer finding the fear hard to attain. He's studying the scar intently, gently running his fingers over the length of it.

I breathe heavily, goosebumps covering my skin. I've never been touched like this before; the only time I've been touched on my stomach was when Eric gave me this scar, and that was rather rough. Now Tobias's fingers are skimming it, and I'm frozen like I was then, but I'm not petrified. I'm scared, but I'm not entirely fearful. Does that make sense? Oh, who am I kidding; of course it doesn't.

I'm not sure whether I feel more anxious, scared, or nervous. It's possible I feel all three of them the same. My stomach twists and turns, but I don't feel as if I'm going to have a panic attack.

"Is this okay?" I hear Tobias ask.

I wait for a few moments, letting his touch sink in and debating my options, then slowly nod. "Yeah," I whisper. "It's okay."

"Are you sure? You don't feel like you'll throw up?"

I pause. "Well…" I nervously laugh as my hands begin to shake again.

His hand pulls off. I immediately grab it and shakily put it back on my stomach. My stomach instinctively cringes away for a moment, but then I take a deep breath and force it to go back to normal.

"No," I whisper. "It's okay. I...I trust you."

He raises his eyebrows, but once he realizes that I'm being honest, he flicks his gaze back down and gently runs his thumb across the scar again. I continue to take deep breaths, but at the same time I try to focus on the deadweight flowing through my body.

Soon, his fingers stop and pull away from the ugly ridge on my stomach and chest. He takes my shaky hand and holds it up to his lips. I release a breath. My hand slowly stops shaking and I stare up at him. The feelings and emotions are ebbing off now. He meets my gaze and lowers my hand. He leans down and softly kisses me. I let my eyes flutter shut.

When he pulls back, he whispers, "Thank you."

"For what?" I whisper.

"Trusting me."

I open my eyes and am able to crack a tiny smile at him while feeling my brain gather all of what I was just feeling up and put it into a box again, stashing it away so I will never be able to find it again.

Tobias sits back up, still holding my hand, and helps pull me up into a sitting position. He grabs my shirt from the end of the bed and lets go of my hand, pulling my shirt over my head. Slowly, my scar disappears back under a layer of fabric. I finally relax, and this is when I go numb again; it's when I go back to feeling like I'm having an out-of-body experience.

His hand cups my cheek and brings my mouth to his again. We kiss for several minutes, and for some reason, it seems more intimate than usual. Maybe it's because I let him see one of the most personal and hated parts of my body, and he accepted me as I was. He accepted that I'm not perfect, that I'm far from it, and yet he's still here, kissing me.

I don't understand. How can someone like him can settle for someone like me? I don't understand how he can love someone like me. But the signs are all there, and I know he's not lying to me when he says I'm breathtaking or that he loves me. I know he truly believes in what he says, and I mostly believe in it too. Other than his compliments towards me, I believe him.

When he pulls back, I stare at him, still feeling vulnerable. He smiles at me again and brushes my hair back. His hands stay on either side of my cheeks as he leans in and kisses my forehead, my eyelids, my cheek, my nose, my jaw, my chin. I am able to form a genuine giggle at his sweet actions and a short bubble of happiness flows through me for one short second. Then it's gone.

I lean over and tuck myself into his chest, interrupting his peppering of kisses. His arms come around me and hold me to him as we lay down. He strokes my hair as I lay in a ball, partially on top of him.

"What time is it?" I find myself asking.

His head turns. "4:30." I sigh. "Don't think you'll fall back asleep?" he asks.

"There's no way I can. Not after I…" I shake my head. "I'm not tired, but you should sleep. You've barely gotten any sleep these past few days."

"I probably won't be able to either. I'm not tired. At least, not yet."

"So what do you want to do?" I ask, knowing it will be pointless to argue with him about it.

"What do you want to do?"

I shrug. "We could go on a walk again."

He chuckles. "Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"Because, one, it's 4:30 in the morning, and, two, you had a rough day yesterday. You can't tell me you don't hurt more today than you should."

He's right; the cuts on my stomach, arms, hands, and neck feel like they're on fire. Although, I welcome the pain. It may not replace the emotional numbness, but at least the pain reminds me I'm still alive.

"So?"

He sighs and looks me in the eye. "So, that's a definite no."

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

He kisses my temple and squeezes me closer. "We could just stay here for a while."

I bury my face in his neck. "I guess we can do that," I whisper.

And so we do. We lay and talk about about meaningless things for what feels like hours. Sometimes we laugh, sometimes we kiss, and sometimes we lay in silence, just enjoying each other's company. There have been several bubbles of emotions that have come and gone, all within a few seconds time. The longest I felt something was 12 seconds...I've been keeping track.

We continue this until we hear a knock on the door. With our complete engrossment in each other, we missed the noise of everyone else.

"Hey lovebirds, time to face the world! We can hear you up here! Breakfast is downstairs!"

I feel my cheeks heat up as Tori walks away. Tobias chuckles when he sees my red face.

"What'd she say?" he asks knowingly.

I blush even darker and mumble, "I don't know."

He raises his eyebrows. "Really?" he asks flatly.

"Lovebirds," I relent after hesitating.

He pauses, then openly laughs at me. I'm not sure how it's possible, but I go darker. A bubble of embarrassment rises.

1,

"Stop laughing at me!" I complain. "I can't help it!"

2,

I crawl out from his protective hold on me and push him. He manages to stay on the bed, but he still laughs.

3, 4,

I glare at him and get out of bed. I shiver at the sudden loss of warmth. I didn't realize how much I'd adapted to his heat until I ripped myself away from it.

5, 6,

He stands up as well and grips my upper arms. He rests his forehead on mine, still slightly laughing; I can tell by the way his shoulders shake.

7, 8, 9,

I roll my eyes, but can't help but be grateful for his closeness again.

10.

The embarrassment leaves.

"I'm sorry. I can't help but laugh. You're so sensitive to any form of relationship comments and/or compliments, and it's quite entertaining."

I huff and pout at him. He takes advantage of my jutting bottom lip and kisses me, erasing the pout. I pull back moments after and glare at him again.

"I hate it when you laugh at me for things I can't help."

"I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at your tendency to blush at the littlest things."

"That's still laughing at me."

He chuckles. "No, it's not. People laugh at other people when they have done something stupid or embarrassing. You didn't do anything stupid or embarrassing, therefore, I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing because I think it's cute."

"Why is it cute?"

"Because even though you've been through so much and aren't innocent at all, when you blush that easily, for just a few seconds…you are. I see you as an unscarred girl for once; I see how you were before life's burdens hit you. To see the old you come out like that is cute."

I look down. "I tried to get rid of the old me," I say, biting my lip and thinking about the long trial and error of ridding myself of Beatrice.

"You can't get rid of your entire childhood and all of your memories. You can't get rid of who you used to be. Not completely, anyways. I have a feeling that we've both tried to do that."

I slowly nod.

"You know what else is cute?" he asks. I look up and meet his eyes. His hand slides up to my cheek and holds my head in place.

"What?"

"You, and everything about you."

I blush again and he chuckles before kissing me once more. It lasts a little longer this time around since I don't pull back early, and it's at a much slower pace than usual. I hook my arms up and under his, resting my palms on his shoulder blades. I end up smiling.

We're startled apart a few minutes later by my door flinging open and Caleb yelling, "Stop making out!"

I'm startled so much I slip and start to fall backwards, but luckily, Tobias catches me just before I hit the ground. When I regain my balance, I glance up at Tobias to see his ears tinged red.

Caleb starts to laugh and I glare at him. He holds his hands up, surrendering.

"Relax. I'm just here to tell you that the pancakes are getting cold."

I roll my eyes. "I sure didn't get that message the first time around."

He laughs and walks out, purposely leaving the door open because of his knowledge of my annoyance towards that action. I take a deep breath in and out, resisting the urge to go tackle Caleb, and silently pad over to the door, shutting it.

"Who's blushing now?" I ask Tobias when I turn back around.

He chuckles. "You have no room to talk, Miss 'I would have fallen if my boyfriend hadn't caught me'."

I roll my eyes and pick his bag up from the floor. I chuck it at him and it hits him square in the chest with a satisfying thud. He obviously expected it though, and he catches it without a flaw. He smirks at me.

"Get dressed," I order in a fake annoyed tone.

He chuckles and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

I quickly dress in a pair of sweatpants two sizes too big, a medium sized t-shirt, and slippers. I grab a brush from my dresser and start to put my hair into a messy bun. The bathroom door opens halfway through, and footsteps walk over to me. Arms wrap around my waist and a chin sets on top of my shoulder as I finish. I take the brush handle out from my teeth and set it back on the dresser. I turn my head around to meet Tobias's and give him a quick kiss. Even if I don't feel anything, I can still think logically, and I don't want him to get suspicious about my behavior.

"Okay, let's go downstairs now. I want my pancake."

He raises his eyebrows at me. "You're actually going to eat without a fight?"

I shrug and blush slightly, looking back downward and working my way out of his arms. I may have overkilled that a bit.

"What? Can't a girl want pancakes without having to give a reason?" I quickly retort.

He chuckles. "I guess they can. Lead the way to the pancakes, good lady."

I force my cheeks to go back to normal and start the path to the kitchen.

"Finally, you're here!" Tori exclaims. She rushes over to me.

"Listen, it's 7:30. And this is completely up to you: I have work today, but if you need me to call for a substitute, I will."

I frown. "What day is it?"

"It's Monday."

I spin around to Tobias. "You need to go to school."

He shakes his head. "I'd feel much better if I stayed here with you."

"You've already missed a bunch of school for me!"

"I'm staying here, end of story."

I roll my eyes and turn back to Tori. "You can go to school. I have two people here to watch me. I'll be fine."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"100 percent."

She kisses my head. "Alright. But be sure to call if you need anything, okay?"

I nod. "Okay."

She smiles and runs upstairs to get ready quickly.

"So you'll go where I go?" I ask Tobias.

He nods. "I'm wherever you are for the next few days."

"Then I'm going to school," I say diligently.

"No, you're not," I hear Caleb say.

I roll my eyes and walk over to Caleb at the table. I sit across from him.

"I'll go tomorrow."

"Still a big no. You were just attacked and you cracked open some cuts again."

"That was three days ago."

"Beatrice, I said no. Drop it."

I huff as Tobias sits next to me.

"My name is Tris," I mumble, suddenly annoyed by the use of my full name.

"I'm sure Four would agree with me, right?"

Tobias looks awkward being put into this position. In one way, he makes me angry, and in the other way, he's lying and losing respect from my older brother.

"Leave him alone, Cal. You and I already know he does. Don't make him take sides."

Caleb smirks at me. "Majority vote says no then."

"I still have Tori."

Tobias rolls his eyes. "You know she'll agree with Caleb."

I notice how he doesn't say 'You know she'll agree with us'. He obviously picked his words carefully in order not to insinuate anything.

I sigh. "I know."

Caleb hands me the plate of pancakes. I silently take one and hand the plate to Tobias. I spread butter and syrup on mine and start to eat.

"I just don't like being cooped up here all day," I say defeated.

"I know you don't, honey. But you have to have time to heal," Tori says as she comes down the stairs dressed and ready, obviously catching on to what's happening.

I sigh and take a bite of my pancake.

"Alright, I have to go, but you guys have fun! Well, not too much fun," she adds, looking pointedly towards me.

"Bye Tori!" Caleb says.

"Bye you guys!" she says as she walks out the door.

I rest my chin on my hand and continue picking at my food. Tobias's hand finds mine under the table and squeezes. He knows how much I hate this: being forced to stay here, being ganged up on, not being allowed to do anything other than 'take it easy'.

I stand up and silently take my dishes to the kitchen, appetite gone. I wait for the guys to finish eating, and together we clean up breakfast. We work in peaceful silence. When we're done, we silently pad into the living room, everyone collapsing into their seat of choice. Caleb chooses the recliner while Tobias and I take the couch. I fold myself into his side and lay my head on his shoulder. His arm snakes around my shoulders, softly holding me in place. He places a kiss on my hair.

Caleb flicks through the channels, but I don't really pay attention. I'm lost in thought about what I could possibly do to escape this place for a while. I think about fake crying and convincing them that way, but then I remember that Caleb knows me far too well to not recognize the fakeness behind it. He saw me do it for 15 years. He knows what it looks like.

I sigh. Instead of focusing on being stuck here for the next few days, I try to direct my thoughts to the conversation I had with Caleb last night.

My mind immediately flicks to 9 year old Mason. So young, so innocent, so undeserving of what the world brought him. The problem is, even though I've never spoken to or seen him, I know a bit of myself is resembled in him. The helplessness, the hopelessness, the constant despair and pain. We've both watched our lives and family's lives flash before our eyes, too late to save them. We've both faced death, and we've both had unexpected saviors in our lives.

There are differences, though. While I got to say some final words to my mother, his was torn away in an instant. His saving grace was my older brother while mine was-no-is the boy sitting across from him. I was 15 years old and had already figured out that life was never fair, that it never gave mercy to anybody. But he….he was only 7 years old. He was still so young. He was at the age where the world was made up of pirate ships and the seven dwarves, of unknown adventures waiting for you behind every corner, where his parents told all the best stories and it didn't matter if they were true or not because they were his. He still believed in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy. In his mind, the world was perfect, and it was his to conquer. And now….now, it has disappeared. It was ripped away from him within a matter of minutes. Every single memory, every single dream, every single story, forever tainted by cruelty and unforgiveness.

He will never forget that horrific night; his consciousness won't let him. And that's what saddens me most, the fact that he knows exactly what happened. Watching your parents die in front of you, it can never be covered up by a story or replaced with new memories. No one can simply pick up the pieces and put them back together, because in the back of his mind, it will always be there.

He may forget during the day; he may not remember their deaths then. He's still young enough to forget. But the day is never the problem; the light never deceives us. The night is when the real battle begins. The darkness casts shadows beside us, making us scared of the monsters that are kept inside our closet until the light disappears. The shadows follow us no matter where we go or where we try to escape to. It won't matter if we find a match to light our candle; the thing is, we can't hold a single light and expect it to pierce through all of the darkness. The shadows are still there, but they are hidden. Not knowing where they are often forces us to blow out our candles in fear, and then the light is gone forever. Matches only work once, and if you somehow get it to work again, it's much more of a struggle and takes a larger amount of effort to light our candles. We find that we don't get the satisfaction of the newly lit candle we crave after the second use. Its light is weak, and it's not as strong as it was before.

In order to escape the darkness, you need to have others there with you who will help you face the shadows and the monsters. With only one candle, there's always the looming possibility it could be blown out. With several candles, if one blows out, it doesn't stay like that forever. All it takes is one more flame to rekindle the lost ones. Fire never runs out; it doesn't have a limited supply. It can light as many candles as it wants without growing any weaker. It shares its strength with those who desperately need it and stays just long enough for the weak to grow strong, then it moves back to the sidelines where it's ready to rekindle the flame again at a moment's notice.

I turn my head slightly to look up at the face that has always saved me. His head is facing straight, and the light of the tv reflects in his dark blue orbs. He is engrossed in the movie, not knowing that I'm engrossed in him. I can't seem to take my eyes off of him, and quite frankly, I don't want to. I don't ever want to have to stop looking at him. He's mine and nobody else's. He's mine, and I don't want him to be anybody else's.

I feel another pair of eyes on me and know Caleb has seen how long I've been staring at Tobias, but I still don't move my eyes. Caleb can stare me down all he wants for disobeying my father's rule about staring, but this man is mine, and I'm allowed to stare.

Tobias must eventually realize that the majority of attention is no longer on the movie, and he slowly turns his head to meet my eyes. My facial expression does not change; I'm still staring. He stares back, the both of us distracted by the other's eyes. His eyes are a safe haven; whenever I'm distressed, or lost, or feel like I could collapse at any minute, I look into those bottomless, deep blue ocean waves and am able to calm down. They remind me of nights spent by the fireplace with a book and mug of hot chocolate while a powerful blizzard blows outside. They remind me of good memories and innocence, like how I associate his scent with safety and his arms with home and security.

After a long while, he moves his head just slightly and presses his lips to my forehead. I finally let my eyes flutter shut and a small, content smile finds its way into my face.

When his lips part from my skin, he turns so his back is leaning against the arm of the couch, and his attention turns back to the movie, leaving me to fend for myself. I scoot in between his legs and lean into his chest, resting my head. I curl into his figure and find that I fit perfectly. He picks off the blanket hanging on the back of the couch and throws it over my body. His arms immediately find their way around me after that; one supports my back so I don't change positions from my place on his chest and the other wraps around my shoulders. I adjust my head so I can listen to his heartbeat.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

I bring the arm that isn't trapped between our figures partially around his back. I trace a single scar that I can feel through the back of his shirt due to its slightly raised texture. I feel him relax even more from underneath me and his heart rate slows.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

I look up, my eyes meeting with the forest green ones that have not stopped staring. He has a look on his face that I can't describe, but from what I can tell, I don't think it's anything negative. But just in case, to reassure him, I give him a smile that I know is genuine. The corner of his mouth slightly raises, and he turns back to the movie.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Fatigue enters my system and I slowly shut my eyes, letting the darkness take over. But this time, I'm not afraid of what I'll see when I'm consumed by it. The monsters will inevitably catch up to me again, but I figure I have two choices in this situation: One, be afraid of the darkness for the rest of my life and avoid it like a coward, or two, face the darkness with a vengeance and fight it each time it comes, not allowing it to get the best of me. And for right now, I choose option two.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

That's the beauty of darkness. You can't escape it, no one can, but you can create a light to face it. First, though, you have to find the other candle to help you through the world of shadows and monsters. You have to find your light in the darkness.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

And I think I found mine.

The end!...for now, anyways. ;) Thank you so much for your support and patience with me! Spring sports have started and it makes my days a lot more busy than they already were! But I am on Spring Break (YES!) now, so hopefully I will get lots more writing done while I'm able to relax! I will probably see you all soon with Chapter 42, but please let me know your thoughts on this chapter! Ta-ta for now! :D