12. Chapter
I cringe in pain when I get out of the shower the next morning. The skin around my stitches pulls tight with every move I make.
I wrap a towel around myself and tie it in a knot above my left breast before grabbing my crutches and walking out of the bathroom and into my kitchen-slash-living room, heading straight for the fridge.
"Morning, Stiff."
I yelp and whirl around, wincing when I feel the pull at my stitches.
There, on my couch, feet on top of my coffee table, sits Eric.
What the actual fuck?
"What the hell, Eric?!" I yell at him incredulously. "You can't just use my key and come in here whenever you like. I could have been naked!"
His eyes travel down my body and then back up to meet my gaze.
He smirks. "But you're not, unfortunately."
I roll my eyes at him.
"What are you doing here anyway?" I ask, while subtly making sure that the knot in my towel still holds.
"Picking you up for breakfast," he answers. "So you better get dressed."
"I don't feel like eating in public," I answer truthfully.
"The faction needs to see you," Eric replies. "They need to see that their leader is alright."
I sigh. Maybe he is right.
"Fine," I say then. Without another word I turn around and make my way back to my bedroom before hastily putting on some clothes.
When I hobble back into the living room Eric gets up from the couch.
"I just have to put on a new Band-Aid," I say, reaching for one of the multitude of Band-Aids lying atop of my table.
"You want me to help?" he asks softly and I feel a flutter in my stomach. I do. I want to feel his hands on me again.
I clear my throat before answering. "Yeah."
He grabs the hem of my top, then pauses and looks at me questioningly. I nod, my heart drumming ever faster against my ribcage.
Slowly, he pushes my top up until it only hides my bra.
His jaw clenches as he stares at the seven inch long line of stitches and the angry red skin around it. He places his left hand on my hip and then lets his thumb ghost across the skin surrounding the wound.
"What the hell were you thinking?" He murmurs.
"I just couldn't let you die," I answer, my voice breaking. "I was so scared I'd lose you."
Anger flashes behind his eyes. He withdraws his hand and balls it into a fist.
"So instead you forced me to watch you die?" He replies angrily. "You bled out in my arms. I was there when you went into cardiac arrest. I was thrown out of the room, not knowing whether you were dead or alive for about ten minutes. It felt like years until Will came to tell me that they had managed to revive you."
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I didn't think."
"Now that's new," he says sarcastically, taking the Band-Aid from my hand and ripping open the wrapper.
"What about Sean?" I ask, switching the topic.
"Son of a bitch got away," he answers, even angrier now. "But I promise you, we're gonna find him and then I'm gonna kill him with my bare hands and it's gonna be more painful than anything he has ever experienced."
Despite his anger he puts the Band-Aid surprisingly softly onto my wound.
"Alright," he says, pulling my top back down. "Let's go, I'm fucking hungry."
Sighing, I grab my crutches and follow him out the door.
"Oh for fuck's sake," he curses when we finally arrive at the elevators. "I forgot how slow those stupid things make you."
"Well, aren't we in a mood today," I murmur to myself. The kiss we shared yesterday obviously did not change a single thing between us.
I'm not sure if this is good or bad.
What I do know is that I want to kiss him again.
"Put your crutches together and hold them in front of you," Eric orders when the elevator doors open again. I frown, but do as I'm told.
Eric wraps one arm around my upper back – again, I feel those butterflies flap away in my stomach – and brings the other underneath my thighs, picking me up.
"Eric!" I shriek. "You can't carry me into the mess hall! People will think that I'm weak."
Nonetheless, I quite enjoy being in his arms again.
"Don't worry," he says, stepping out of the elevator. "I'll let you down before we round the corner towards the hall."
Smiling into Eric's neck, I hold my crutches and enjoy the warmth of his body and the smell of his cologne and the way his hands hold onto me.
I could get used to this. Maybe I should just ditch the crutches altogether and hire Eric to carry me wherever I need to go.
Faster than I would have liked we arrive at the corner leading to the corridor of the mess hall and true to his word, Eric puts me down again.
"Thanks," I say and hope he does not hear my disappointment.
"Anytime, Stiff," he smirks and my heart skips a beat. "Now hurry up, like I said, I'm hungry."
When we walk into the mess hall everyone falls quiet and stares at me. I can feel the Abnegation in me rising to the surface and uncomfortably look down at the ground.
"What are you all staring at?" Eric barks in his leader's voice and one by one people return to their conversations.
Then, I feel Eric's hand on the small of my back.
"Go, sit with your friends," he says into my ear and a shiver runs down my spine when his breath ghosts across my auricle. "I'll get your breakfast."
"Thanks, Eric," I reply, turning my head and looking up into his gray eyes.
For a moment, we just keep staring at each other and I could have sworn that the electricity of last night is starting to build again but then Eric takes a step back.
"The usual?"
I blink several times to clear my head.
"Yes, please," I finally manage to say. He nods and walks toward the buffet.
I watch him for a moment longer before making my way toward my friends' table.
"Good to see you out and about," Zeke greets me.
"We missed you," Lynn smiles.
"I missed you, too, guys," I return her smile before placing my crutches against the table and sitting down next to Four.
In hindsight that probably was not my smartest idea.
When Eric walks over with my tray he takes once glance at Four and to where his thigh touches mine and his entire demeanor changes. His gaze darkens to a scowl and his shoulders straighten.
He thumps the tray onto the table, causing the grapes to almost jump out of their bowl.
"I see you at nine o'clock sharp, trainee," he barks, not even looking at me, before he turns and walks toward his usual breakfast table with his friends.
"You're going back to work already?" Uriah asks surprised.
I nod. "Why not? I just have to sit at a desk and use a computer – since I'm not allowed to take up physical training again yet."
"But shouldn't you be resting for a while?" Marlene asks in genuine concern.
"I think I've rested quite enough," I sigh. "Besides, the way my hospitalization rate is going, I wouldn't be working much if I'd take sick leave every time."
"True", Christina grins. "Want me to come over after work? I have the day off."
I smile. "Sure. That would be great."
The glint in her eyes already tells me what tonight's topic is going to be.
"Stiff?"
I startle awake, almost falling out of my chair, and blink several times before realizing that I am in my office – and obviously fell asleep.
"Shit, Eric, I'm sorry," I stammer embarrassedly. "It's not gonna happen again."
Instead of yelling at me, however, he frowns and looks at me in concern. Then, he steps further into my office and closes the door behind him.
"Are you okay?" He asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Did your wound keep you up last night? Are the painkillers not working?"
"It wasn't the pain," I answer, avoiding looking at him. "I had nightmares."
"Want to talk about it?"
I swallow.
"We almost died, Eric," my voice breaks. "And Sean – he almost – and you would have had to watch – it just keeps repeating in my head and in my dreams, only in my dreams he doesn't stop."
I take a deep breath and look back up into his face. His gaze softens and he uncrosses his arms, instead opening them wide. "Come here."
I don't even hesitate. I get up, walk around my desk and then throw myself into his arms, wrapping my arms tight around his torso and leaning my cheek against his broad chest.
Immediately, he puts his arms around me, pulling me even closer.
"It's okay, baby, you're safe now" he murmurs into my hair. "It's normal to have nightmares. I have them, too. It's how our brain processes such things."
I nod against his chest, inhaling his scent. It might be my new favorite odor.
"You really have them as well?"
It is hard to imagine with a tough guy like him.
"Yeah," he answers. "After every mission, every fight. Fuck, I thought you were going to die, I've never seen so much blood. Of course I have nightmares about that. And when that fucker was about to rape you – shit, you have no idea how helpless I felt. I have killed people using only one hand and yet I couldn't protect you."
"You did protect me, remember?" I reply, breathing him in again, enjoying the warmth of his body.
"And I will keep doing it," Eric says, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head. "I swear to whatever gods there are that no-one is going to hurt you ever again. No-one's even gonna come close enough to touch you. I will kill them all, every last one of them."
A shiver runs down my spine. He sounds so sincere, so determined.
"Why?" I whisper. "Why would you do that for me?"
"Because I can."
I resist the urge to roll my eyes, even though he would not be able to see it.
I swallow nervously before slightly leaning my head back to look up at him.
"What was that yesterday?" I ask, my heart almost jumping out of my chest. "Why did you kiss me?"
He tenses and if his arms weren't still around me I never would have noticed. Then he smirks.
"Because I could."
As if knowing that I am about to wrench free – whether to hit him or storm out of the room, I don't know – he tightens his hold on me, keeping me from moving even an inch.
"Because I wanted to," he continues, his voice suddenly deeper, his eyes turning darker, and I can feel my heart thumping like mad.
He slowly tilts his head toward me and I rise onto my tiptoes, eagerly anticipating his lips on mine – when there is a knock on the door.
"Tris? Is Eric with you?"
Eric and I immediately jump apart and stare at each other. I feel myself flush while his face his devoid of any emotion.
I frown.
"Tris? You in there?" Max asks again.
"Yes," I yell, making my way back toward my desk. "We're both here. You can come in."
The door opens and Max steps inside. He pauses for a moment, looking first at Eric and then at me, his brows furrowing.
"I'm not interrupting, am I?"
"Of course not," Eric answers, clasping his hands together in front of him. "What can we do for you, Max?"
Max clears his throat. "Now that Tris is back, I have organized a meeting with the other faction leaders. They'll arrive tomorrow morning. We'll discuss what happened to the two of you and what Candor found out from the factionless we managed to take hostage."
Eric and I both nod. I expected as much, to be honest.
"Good, I'll see you tomorrow then."
When Max leaves my office Eric gives me one last, unreadable glance before rushing from the room.
That man and his mood swings give me a headache worse than that one hangover I have experienced did.
"Sooo," Chris says expectantly when we sit down on my couch, her with a glass of wine and me, thanks to my medication, with a cup of tea. "Eric. Spill."
I roll my eyes at her.
"There's not much to tell," I answer. The way she keeps looking at me is as if she is expecting me to say that we have been dating in secret for a while now and are already married because I'm pregnant.
"Oh come on, since when are we having secrets?" she replies, slightly affronted, and crosses her legs beneath her on the couch. "He saved your life, you saved his. He gives you his clothes, sits with you in the infirmary and threatens to kill anyone who dares to harm you."
"You have no idea," I sigh.
"Because you don't tell my anything," she enunciates. I roll my eyes again and sigh before telling her everything that happened when we were taken hostages.
When I'm done, she grins.
"I wouldn't want to be Sean right now," she laughs. "I can't wait to see him kill that bastard."
"If he's smart, he has left the city by now."
Chris snorts. "I think it's obvious that he's not smart."
I laugh before taking a sip of my tea.
"There's a meeting tomorrow," I say afterward. "The faction leaders are coming. To discuss what happened to Eric and me and to talk about the demands factionless made and how to proceed and so on."
Chris wrinkles her nose. "Do we even know where they're hiding? They didn't give you a clue regarding their leaders, did they?"
I shake my head. "No. We know absolutely nothing. In my opinion, the whole meeting is completely unnecessary. Eric and I could just send an E-Mail to everyone, you know, some kind of essay about our little adventure."
"You do get to see your brother and father, though," Christ points out, and for a moment, a shadow passes across her face. "Must be nice. I really miss my family."
"I'm sorry, Chris," I say, reaching for her hand, squeezing it.
She is about to respond when a key is being turned and my door opens. Christina lets out a yelp and stares wide-eyed at the intruder.
"Sorry, Stiff," Eric says, barely even looking our way. "Didn't know you had company."
He walks straight toward my fridge and yanks the door open.
"I ran out of milk, so I'm just gonna take one of yours. Don't worry, I'll replace it."
Christina blinks before turning her gaze toward me, raising an eyebrow.
"I've already told you this morning, you can't just barge in here all the time," I say to Eric while he rummages through the fridge, looking at several items, obviously deciding to take more than just milk judging by the small amount of food he keeps placing on the counter. "And you know, regarding the milk and whatever else you're about to take, you could ask, like any decent person would."
He piles up the food in his arms, securing the tower of items with his chin, and then pauses, finally looking at me.
"Let me know when Candor-Girl here leaves, I'll help you with your Band-Aid again," he says and then he is out the door before I even have a chance to respond.
"What – the – fuck?!" Chris exclaims. "Not much to tell, my ass! He's kept your key? He keeps using it? He helps changing your Band-Aid? Okay, what else?"
Despite trying my hardest, I feel my cheeks heating up and know that I am blushing.
Christina's eyes widen again. "Oh my god – something happened. I knew it!"
I put down my cup, focusing my gaze on the coffee table.
"He kissed me."
Christina lets out a squeal that almost causes me to cover my ears.
"Tell me everything!"
I sigh and obey.
After hours of Christina dreaming up a relationship between Eric and me, planning our wedding and deciding how many children we will have – at least four, apparently – I am knocking on Eric's door, Band-Aid in hand.
When he finally opens I almost drop the Band-Aid and my crutches. He is once again only wearing boxer briefs. This time, however, after the kiss we shared, my body reacts quite differently to him. I can feel a slight heat pooling in my stomach that is slowly wandering down between my legs. I can feel myself becoming wet.
"You're drooling, Stiff," Eric interrupts my ogling him and I flush.
"Sorry," I mumble while he steps aside and lets me in. "Chris just didn't want to leave. I didn't want to wake you up."
"I told you to come, didn't I?" he replies. For someone who was inviting me over he is rather rude. Then again, he is Eric.
I lean the crutches against his table and hold out the Band-Aid. He steps toward me, closer than strictly necessary, and I have to crane my neck to look up at him.
When he takes the Band-Aid from me, his fingers brush against mine and my stomach flips like during zip lining.
Eric looks at me, his eyebrows raised.
"Are you going to pull up that shirt any time soon? I want to get back to bed, you know?"
"If it's such an inconvenience to you, why did you even offer to help me?" I snap. "I could have done it myself."
"Then why haven't you?"
Because I like it when you touch me.
"Today, trainee."
I don't know where the courage comes from or why I do it. Maybe because of the way he gets my body to react toward him or maybe because he riles me up, but I grab the hem of my top and pull it over my head before placing it onto the table so I am only standing before him in my bra.
Something flashes behind his eyes, his pupils dilating. He clenches his jaw and rips the Band-Aid wrapper open.
His breathing grows heavier as he puts the Band-Aid on my skin. Heat surges through my entire body at his touch and I can barely keep myself from gasping.
When he is done, he grabs my shirt and thrusts it into my hands, same with the crutches.
"Leave," he growls, his tone rather dangerous, his eyes dark. "Now."
I stare up at him in confusion. Why is he such a dick? It is not like I forced him to help me.
When I do not obey, he suddenly grabs me and picks me up bridal-style and before I even know what the hell is going on, he deposes me in the corridor outside before stepping back into his apartment and slamming the door shut behind him.
I am standing half naked in the empty corridor and gape like a fish at his closed door.
Finally, I snort.
Asshole.