A/N- Here's chapter 12! Thanks for the interactions last chapter, it's always nice to hear what you guys are thinking of the story and getting a new follow is always motivating! Now, Tris... She's got a lot of doubts in her head. Should she tell Four? What if he reads into it too far? What would be the reason to tell him? I guess we'll have to see when Tris is going to let Four in on her and Peter's scheme; but lets just hope she does it before any issues arise. Enjoy the chapter! Bethany x

Chapter 12- The End of the Night

"I also remember a story about your Mum's boyfriend thinking my Mum's bedroom was a toilet, and pissing all over her desk chair."

My mouth drops open, some sort of gasped laugh escaping, "she never told me that one." Uni was well before she met my Dad, so I have no clue which boyfriend this would have been.

Four turns the wheel, getting onto the road that will take us back up the lodge. "I don't blame her. I think I'd be mortified- in each of their positions." He grins, his gaze still on the road before him.

My eyes stay glued onto him, watching as he changes gear for the last time, the ease in his tone when he speaks about his mother so warm. "Sounds like you and your Mum are close."

He nods, and seems to space out for a second. "We got closer when she divorced Marcus."

The use of what I assume is his dad's name takes me aback. "Did your Mum move back to France after?"

He nods, one set of fingers holding on tightly to the wheel. "Yeah, and then they made me spend half the year in each country."

"They didn't…" I say back, shocked.

He looks over, brows raised, "I know. It was rough." He rubs the back of his neck, "I must have been 8 when the split. I was 16 when I was able to just stay in France."

He must have grown up in England, hence the weak french accent. I can't imagine getting settled into a country, then being upheaved every 6 months to re-start again.

"I'm sure Mum thought it was the right thing to do, letting Marcus spend time with me." My eyes move down to his right hand clutching the gear, his veins beginning to protrude.

"Do you and Marcus not get along?" I don't know if there was much point in asking, his body language already giving me the answer.

"No, we don't." He leans back into his seat, relaxing his shoulders. "I think you know more about me than I do you." He looks over briefly, one side of his mouth pulling into a smile, "all I know is that you're really good at skiing, and you have a brother."

"Really good- but not perfect." I mock back.

He laughs, shrugging, "I stick by what I said. You need to keep in mind where you're putting your weight- I can't keep repeating myself."

Rolling my eyes, I turn to look out my window. We come up to a turn, the small truck having no problem taking. Unlike the coach driver earlier this season, Four looks like he's done this hundreds of times. "There's not much to know about me, my life's been pretty boring."

"Tris Prior? Boring?" I slowly look at him, and see him grinning, "impossible."

I feel my cheeks heat up, "you're just being nice."

His deep blue eyes shine, his smile easy. "Come on, there must be something else to you. You do any other sports other than skiing?"

I nod slowly, "Hockey. Me and Mar play on the school's team."

"And are you any good?"

"We won every game last season," I reply, then clarify, "the schools we play against aren't the best, so it's not that much of a brag."

"Still feels good to win, though, right?"

I grin, nodding my head, "obviously." Repositioning, I place Zeke's vinyl on the floor. "Do you do any sports that don't include snow?"

"Does ice count in that?"

Unsure, I ask, "you play ice hockey?"

He nods, "I'll have to take you down there one time, see if your skills transfer." I can hear the tease in his tone, and I can't hold back a smile as I nod.

We make it back up the mountain, entering the small town. It doesn't take us long to get back to the lodge, parking around the back.

"Did you end up finding what you left in the music shop?" I ask as we walk up the slight incline to the front doors.

After getting something to eat, we headed back to his truck. He had popped back into the store, saying he'd left something in there. It had slipped my mind to ask him if he found whatever it was, my attention being drawn to a jacket in an apparel store.

"Yeah," he replies, shoving his hands into his pocket. "Must have set my gloves down when looking through those CD's."

I nod, looking down at where I'm placing my feet. Was he wearing gloves? I don't dwell on it long, beginning to push the doors to the lodge open with my weight. I look up at him as it opens, "got anything planned for the rest of the night?"

His hand moves just above my head, letting me move out of his way. He grabs his phone out of his pocket, the screen lighting up his face. He shuts it off a second later, "we're up early in the morning, I'll probably just go to bed."

Disappointment seeps in, any way to stay up with him longer leaving my mind. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

He smiles, bumping my shoulder as we walk through the lounge. "I'm always right." We move up the stairs, our shoulders brushing every few steps. When we get to the landing, just before the dining hall, I feel around in my coat pockets, trying to find my key. I feel nothing but my phone.

I reposition the vinyl under my other arm, awkwardly moving my search to my jean pockets. They're roomy, with nothing inside. "Oh no." I think back to this morning, and watch Mar lock the door, pocketing the key.

"What is it?"

"I forgot to pick up my key before we left." I rub my hand across my forehead, trying to think what I should do. Am I desperate enough to go up the ski lift to grab the key off of Mar? "I'll just have to wait in the lounge until the girls get back."

"And when do you think that'll be?" He asks.

I shrug. "No clue. Once they start drinking there's no hope in guessing." Annoyed at myself, I move backwards towards the stairs, heading to the lounge, "just don't be too surprised if I'm late for snowboarding in the morning." Let's just hope they come back tonight, and not in the early hours.

"Don't be stupid," he says, walking over to me, "there's no way you're spending the night in the lounge." He cocks his head to the side, "come on, you can have the privilege of spending the rest of the night with me."

"Are you sure?" I ask hesitantly, "I don't mind-"

Grabbing my arm, he gets me moving with him, "spending the night with the doors unlocked, waiting for anyone to walk in?"

"The doors are unlocked all night?" I reply back, shocked.

We're walking up the stairs by now, just passing the first landing. "They're not supposed to be," he says, "but the night staff don't take the job half as seriously as day."

Up another flight of stairs and we're at my floor. "How far up are you?" I ask, already trying to catch my breath.

"One more flight," he replies, sounding more like he's walking down the stairs than up. I try to control my breathing, my legs feeling a slight burn. Most of my hobbies don't include climbing inclines, so I don't have the best practice.

When we reach the next floor, I see that there's no more stairs. Instead, where the staircase should loop around, there's just a door.

"It's the door to the roof," Four answers my unasked question, "that one is usually unlocked, too."

He moves down the hall, me closely behind him. There's a lot less doors on this floor, I count 3 before he stops at the fourth. "Don't tell me this is how you got your nickname," I joke.

He fishes around in his pocket for his keys, thankfully coming out with them. "No," he shakes his head, "but I might start telling people that."

He pushes the door open, walking inside.

"Are you ever going to tell me how you got your name?" I press, walking in after him. I stop short as he turns on the light, seeing he's living in a mini flat. "You're kidding." I didn't even know the lodge had bigger rooms than our stupidly small dorms. He pushes the door close behind me, leaving us alone in his small living room. "Do all instructors live like this?"

"No," he replies, moving further into the room. There's an old looking sofa in the middle, a beat up coffee table just before it. "Eric and Lauren are sharing with some other instructors, but we're an odd number."

"Lucky you." I glance around, my eyes squinting towards the windows. One of them is open, which is weird in itself, but it doesn't hold my attention. "Is that a balcony?"

He nods, taking off his coat and hanging his keys next to the door.

"Are you the management's favourite or something?" I quip, turning to face him.

He shakes his head, smiling warmly, "I have an agreement with the owner."

He walks over to the open window, sticking his head out. I'm about to ask him what he's doing, when he makes the same noise I use when calling my cat over.

Four stands back, moving out of the way for an orange tabby to come strutting in. He scratches under the cat's chin, and the tabby leaning heavily into the smoothes.

"Is he yours?" I question, moving over to them. He's very handsome, his colouring a light ginger, his fur fluffed up.

Four shakes his head, fingers still moving in tangent to the cat's demands, "this is the agreement." He picks up the tabby, the cat letting Four do it without fuss. I think back to my old girl back home. Livvy would have a fit.

Trying to piece the puzzle together, I finalise, "so you look after the owner's cat and get to live in their best room?" It definitely says a lot about the state of the lodge that this is their best room.

I stand in front of them, but think twice about smoothing the cat. "What's his name?"

"Clémentine." The orange tabby purrs loudly, lounging on his back in Four's arms. "I'd be cautious for a bit, when I first met him he attacked me for a week straight." Four goes to put the cat back on the windowsill, but Clémentine refuses, climbing up his arm instead.

I pull off my coat, resting it over the sofa, "I've never seen such a clingy cat."

He shakes his head, "It gets old really fast." He moves past the sofa, to the small kitchen to my right. "Did you want something to drink?"

I sit on the sofa, pushing my creeping nerves down, "just whatever you're having."

I look around the room, leaning into the collapsing cushion and let out a long breath. There's not much in the space in terms of decoration. Apart from Clémentine's things, all I can pick up from Four is two picture frames perched at either ends of the mantelpiece. The one closest to me is a picture of him and his mum, somewhere sunny. The other one, the one that holds my attention, is a group skiing photo, two women smiling into the camera, with three kids in front of them.

I stand cautiously, moving close to the old picture. I pick it up, getting a better look at it. Mum stares back at me, and when I glance down at the children, there Caleb and I are.

I'm shaking my head, recalling that misplaced memory. Of course it was him.

"Hey, did you want-" I look over my shoulder, just as he cuts himself off. The tabby is still attached to him, curling around his neck. I don't bother reacting to it, knowing cats are odd.

He looks down to the picture in my hand, then back up to me. I turn around, passing it to him. "Looks like we've met before."

He takes it, his fingers rubbing against the frame, "I've never forgotten this day." He moves to the couch, dropping down into it, "Marcus had gone off for the day- I guess with your dad. We were left with our Mums, and spent the whole day on the yellow slopes." He smiles sadly at the picture, his hands holding it so gently.

I sit next to him, my heart aching from the longing in his voice. "I've had this memory stuck in my head the past few days, of some little boy playing a few feet away from Caleb and I, sitting in the snow with a teddy."

His brows pull together, looking as if he's trying to recall his own memory. "Were we sitting just outside the bar?"

My memory is just a flash, no other details portraying themselves. "I assume so? Why else would we be sitting outside by ourselves." I'm not surprised that Mum and Dad just left us outside on our own whilst they had fun, it happened all the time. "It's never been uncommon for mine, Uri and Zeke's parents to just tell us to occupy ourselves so they could get drunk."

He nods, but still looks like he's trying to recall something. Clémentine swats at his face, but Four is able to catch his paw before he does it again. "I lost that teddy that year," he ends up saying, looking back at me, "we didn't realise so until on the plane, so Mum didn't have a chance to replace it without me knowing." He smiles, lips pressed together, "poor 6 year old me was devastated."

My pulse begins to speed up, just thinking of my old teddy one floor down. "You called him Stanley, didn't you?"

His face morphs into surprise, "you remember that?"

I shake my head, "I'm literally living it." He looks confused, so I clarify, "he's in my room- Stanley, the Italian skiing bear."

His mouth falls open slightly, his eyes widening, "you kidnapped my bear?"

"You abandoned him! It's called rescuing?" I grin, my fingers itching to grab the stuffed animal. "I'll grab him before snowboarding, and he can tell you all about his amazing adopted life."

Grabbing Clémentine, Four shoves him into my face. I lean back, laughing as the cat swipes at me, "Four! What the hell?"

He drops the tabby, and finally seeming to have gotten bored of us, jumps off the back of the sofa into what I assume is Four's bedroom. "Say one more thing about how I would have raised Stanley and I'll grab Clém back and let him finish the job."

My mouth drops, and I can feel the amusement rolling off of him. I hold my hands out in mock surrender. "Fine, fine! I'm sure we can make some arrangements with custody. Every other weekend?"

He leans back, tapping his index finger against his lip, "hmm, I'm not sure about that. Maybe I'll have him for half the year, and you the other."

I grin, nodding my head, "that will work out perfectly, totally wont mess with the poor kid's head."

"Wonderful," he holds out his hand, sealing the deal. I laugh, grabbing it and giving it a firm shake.

My eyes draw to his wrist, something shiny grabbing my attention. I twist our hands over so his is on top, a watch staring back at me. I pull his hand up so I can read the time. It's close to half 10.

I let go of his hand after I realise how long I've been holding onto it for. When I look back at him, I see that he's already looking at me. My breath catches in my throat, the air seeming to get sucked out of the room.

My eyes lock onto his, either of us not moving. Something starts nagging at the back of my mind, his face forming into odd letters. Unable to look away, I try to make sense as to what my mind is trying to tell me. An image of Stanley flashes across my eyes, the small T stitch that I have mistook for my nickname for so long staring blatantly back at me.

"What are you thinking?" He asks, his face seeming to have moved closer.

"Our teddy," I state, "he's got a T stitched onto the bottom of his right foot, doesn't he?"

His eyes flicker between my set, his left arm resting against the back of the sofa. "Do you know what it stands for?"

I rack my brain, my eyes copying his. I'm nodding before the name even enters my mind. "Tobias."

Something flashes behind his eyes, then they soften, his features smoothing out. "You've got a good memory."

Whatever intensity there was a moment ago slowly dissipates, leaving an empty void in its place. "Do you want me to still call you Four? I don't mind-"

He shakes his head, "I'd rather you call me Tobias, but just when we're alone?"

I nod, butterflies erupting in my stomach. "Okay, Tobias." A soft smile over takes his face, infectious enough that it pastes onto mine.

My smile fades into a yawn, my hand going to my mouth to stifle it. I think back over the day. It's hard to believe it was only this morning that we went out on the slopes in the storm.

Tobias gets up, holding out his hand. I grab it without thinking, letting him pull me up. "Sounds like you're ready for bed."

"I wish. Staying up waiting for the girls is going to be hell." For the first time, I think about calling one of them. I quickly push the idea away, knowing none of them would hear their phone ringing or even bother to check it.

"Take my bed, I'll keep an eye on your phone for any messages."

I stop, my hand still encased in his, "no, that's not fair on you. I'm the one making your night more difficult-"

He chuckles, his hand reaching out to tuck the stray strands of hair behind my ear. My chest tightens, a spark slowly igniting in the pit of my stomach. "Spending time with you isn't a hassle, Tris." He nods towards the slightly open door, "I'll wake you up when they get back."

My eyes move from him, to the enticing bedroom. I'm only shutting my eyes for a few minutes, there's no harm in that.

"Okay," I reply without much prodding. My eyes feel heavy, my body aching from the day's activities. "But don't forget to wake me up. I don't want to keep you out of your own bed."

"Promise." He says, letting go of my hand and going to the sofa, grabbing my phone out of my coat pocket. "I'll send Lynn a text making sure they let you know when they're back."

I smile sleepily, nodding. "Thank you, Tobias."

He smiles back, "go get some rest."

I turn around, pushing the door open and letting it fall shut behind me. I rub my face in my hands, trying to wipe the stupid smile off of my face. I drag my legs towards the double bed, collapsing onto the crisp duvet. I shut my eyes, falling asleep to Tobias's deep blue eyes.