The alarm in the initiates dorm blared only about 45 minutes after Clea had snuck in. She stretched and yawned, going over her story in her head one last time.

Predictably, Sarita cornered her in the bathroom while they brushed their teeth together. She'd have expected nothing less from her friend.
"So spill, where'd you go last night?"
"I met a guy"
"A guy?" Sarita questioned, eyebrow cocked.
"Yeah, a ranger who works the wall. Greg. Very hot." Clea lied.
"Huh? I could've sworn I saw you leave with Eric."
"Oh… No. Nope. We just talked for a second in the hall. It was super loud in there, you know? Then I came back in and… Greg!"
"Uh-huh." Sarita replied, unconvinced. "Did you hear that a bunch of us got roofied last night?"
"I did!"
"Because you were with Eric?"
"Sarita." Clea hissed sharply, setting a clear boundary with her friend.
Sarita held her hands up, feigning innocence.
"I overheard some people talking about it when I was coming home from Greg's just before dawn. Night watch guys."
Sarita rolled her eyes but didn't protest.
"They got Toby, Kara, Mal and Luke.
"Shit. Are they ok? Are Mal and Luke?
"Yeah, at first we thought Mallory had too much to drink but then Luke got woozy too all of a sudden. Luckily we weren't on the catwalk when it hit them. That would've been bad. Four helped us get them checked out. Luke went down hard."

"Jeeze, who did it?" Clea asked, gently touching her fingers to the bump on her own scalp.
"A couple of Dauntless born initiates I guess? We've got them worried about their rank and no one wants to become factionless."
Clea exhaled, "I knew we'd have targets on our backs but wow."
Training that day was harder than ever, not in the least because most of them were nursing either hangovers, head injuries or both.
Eric and Four knew it, and they exploited it. Two initiates puked on the training mats. During sparing practice, Eric criticized Clea's form harshly and loudly. With her confidence shaken, Clea'd opponent, Dauntless born Clarie, was able to get the upper hand, smashing her hard in the ribs and drawing blood on her right cheekbone. All day, she kept her gaze away from his, not wanting to betray her disappointment. His words had stung. Maybe, in the cold hard light of day, he'd changed his mind about her.
Later in the pit, Clea nervously picked at her hamburger, taking small bites and turning the day over in her mind. Was Eric regretting the risk he'd taken with her last night? When she went to the training room, would he even show? If he'd changed his mind, how would she get over it?
Sarita eyed her, but said nothing, knowing full well that Clea wouldn't talk with this many people around. Kyle sat beside her and, sensing her distress, gave her a little squeeze before carrying on the conversation with the others. All anyone wanted to talk about was exactly which of the dauntless-born recruits had dosed their drinks last night. Was it Carl- the tough hard-ass who seemed to be in training to be Eric's stunt double, or Bre or- the wiry woman on the bottom on the scoreboard?
Clea was so distracted that she could barely follow the conversation. She excused herself, telling her friends she was going for a run and headed to the dorm to change.
Fuck this. She was supposed to be dauntless. Fearless. This 'being scared of what a guy thinks of her' shit had to stop. And when Eric didn't show, she knew that a run would actually help to clear her head.
Quietly, she padded into the training room in her socks, sneakers knotted and hung over her shoulder. She was ready to stretch her sore muscles on the mats and get her head on straight. He wasn't coming.
To her surprise, Eric was actually already there, standing in front of the training board, busily writing out tomorrow's schedule. Clea let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
When he saw her he said, gave her a little tiny smirk and inclined his head towards the door and said "Pay attention." turning on his heel, he walked away through a door in the corner of the training room. One she'd never really noticed before. It led into a service corridor with a staircase. Eric started down it, Two flights, she thought to herself, then left, left, and right."
Shortly after making that right, Eric was keying into his apartment. Number 319.

Once inside, she felt his gaze, hot, on her skin.
"That was the fastest route to my apartment, with the least chance of being seen. I don't want to make a habit of meeting in the training room. Anyone could walk in on us."
"A habit…?" She asked, mind reeling. She was still expecting him to say that they were through, that the risk was just too much.
"I've been dying to kiss you again all day. Are you telling me you want this to be one and done?" He smirked, knowing full well that once wasn't going to be enough for either one of them.

She walked the short distance to his black leather couch and sat down, exhaling deeply. His expression turned questioning. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

Eyes trained on Eric's spotless floor, she said, "I thought maybe you'd changed your mind…uhh, earlier. In training."
He ran a hand over his face, through his short hair and squatted down in front of her so they could be eye to eye.
"Four..." He started, "He has suspicions. I felt like I needed to throw him off the scent. I'm sorry I had to be so hard on you." He nuzzled his nose against hers and rubbed the pad of his thumb over the cut on her cheek. "I hated watching her hit you."
She just looked at him.
"Actually, I wanted to rip her head off."
The corners of Clea's mouth curved slightly, against her will.
"It seemed like the only blood you were out for, was mine."
He peppered her jawline with little kisses.

"You're gonna need a thicker skin if this is gonna work." said Eric, rising to join her on the couch. "I can't show you any preference out there." He pulled her onto his lap and gathered her in his arms.
"I know. I know… God, I am supposed to be Dauntless, what the fuck is wrong with me?" She asked, voice thick with emotion.
"To be dauntless doesn't mean you feel nothing. It means not letting fear control you."
"Yeah, I guess I let my fear that I am not good enough for Dauntless, or for you, take control."
"You'll learn more about how to manage mental stuff like this in the next phase of training. And trust me, you're way too good for me."
Clea sighed and tucked her head into the crook of his neck. She could feel his heart beating evenly and the warmth of his body against hers. She nuzzled his jaw line and he leaned down to kiss her. Soft, and slow again at first, but soon his hands were tangled in her hair and hers were balled up in the fabric of his t-shirt. He pulled away and removed it for her, smiling that uncharacteristic smile. As she took him in, his broad chest, his dark tattoos, a small sound escaped her lips. Eric flexed his muscles for her benefit and she laughed.

Nipping at her earlobe, he asked "Like what you see?"
"Mhmm" she purred, running her fingers up his arms and over his strong shoulders. He shifted their position so that she was lying across the cool leather couch and he was pressed against the back, leaning over her. She could feel every muscle in his body responding to her, feel his excitement pressed against her leg. After a few more minutes, Eric pulled away and said, " Are you ready for more? I don't want to push you…"
"I'm ready." She really did feel so safe with him.
"Bed."
"Couch." Clea countered, not wanting to change anything about this moment.
"I'm not about to have our first time be on this couch. I'm trying to do this right." He said, and with that, he pushed off of her and padded into the bedroom and out of sight, snagging his shirt off the floor as he went.
Clea sat up on the couch, squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. This moment was finally here. Especially surreal after so recently thinking this had slipped through her fingers forever.
Eric appeared in the doorway again. "Are you coming?" He asked.
She nodded and stood. He closed the space between them, scooped her into his arm and carried her to his bed.