"Almost done?" Eric's muffled voice asks while knocking on the door to the bathroom for the 2nd time, his annoyance is palpable even through the obstruction.
I lean with all my weight into the tiled wall while cold but scalding water washes over me until it becomes a normal tempurature.
My stitches sting immensely and soon I find myself sitting on the ground watching the dirty water swirl down the drain.
I try not to think about the piping structure underground and where it goes. I am sucessful.
After I dry myself off I leave my watch on the counter after checking the time. 5pm. Almost the entire first day of Dauntfest, gone.
I throw the rest of my clothing into the waste bin before securing my watch to my wrist. Twisting it around.
I'll have to acquire new winter gloves and possibly a new sweater for Kat.
I lay flat on my back staring at the ceiling with my head sunken into a soft pillow wearing my sleep pants and pullover bra.
Seemingly satisfied with my docile behavior today, Eric becomes more bold. He lays on his side and inspects the markings on my abdomen and sides where nails had scraped against me, clawed into me, marks of violence. He tries to fit his fingers to each one.
He expresses his distaste for how I had cut my hair, and about how I was late this morning, and he tells me about how uneventful his night was, but how entertaining Lauren is.
I don't remind him of his note, not to be here in the morning, instead I check my watch. It reads 537pm and I vaguely wonder why he is still here, although I don't complain or say anything about it.
No one comes to the apartment.
I let him gently prod my stitches and brush his fingers against each string.
His eyes inspect every inch of my bare skin calculatingly at the scrapes, cuts, and bruises as though he is assessing my condition to be pitiable.
Before long I turn over and press my cheek into my too soft pillow and he curls himself around me, radiating heat as he brushes over my neck and ear with his lips brazenly.
Soon enough I fall into unconsciousness.
"Are you going to sleep all night?" Eric mumbles into my slightly still damp hair, his tone is annoyed, impatient. "It's Dauntfest."
I grit my teeth as his cold thumb rubs circles into my skin slowly from my hip to the hem of my bra, I feel his boots with my bare feet when he slides his clothed leg between mine. "Get out."
An acute awareness of every part of my burning body and a dull throbbing behind my skull makes it harder to stay under, as well as the thought of him wearing his boots in my recently changed sheets.
He chuckles. My eyes snap open and I elbow him away to roll onto my back, and sit up a little too quickly, my consciousness does not move with me and my vision blurs in response.
I begin to slide out of the comforters while rubbing my palms into my still adjusting eyes.
The ground is freezing cold against my soles and I tense against it involuntarily, my muscles contract painfully in rejection.
When I am certain that my eyes will not melt or continue to dilate, I stop rubbing, blink away the spots and stand to stretch my aching limbs, my shoulder is stiff but the pain is dull.
Eric has already gotten up to stand, leaned against the door frame with a sweater, pants and my boots in his hands.
"Thought we could go help out at that wheel thing." He says with a casual shrug, throwing everything onto the bed. "After dinner, that is."
"We?" I ask as I pull the sweater on, the fabric is scratchy and uncomfortable against my skin but it is thick and warm.
Eric rolls his eyes. "I've elected to incorporating myself into some of your more… routine daily extracurricular recreational activities."
As he says this, his mouth spreads into a grin, exposing rows of his straight white teeth.
I shrug in response, though his smile brought on some discomfort, remnant of the night before.
My thoughts return to Max and Falen, and I try to recall who had encouraged him, and how much of a distraction he had turned out to be. My brain is far too sluggish and unwilling to dredge anything up.
But I welcome its quietness.
He waits patiently while I put my boots on but then says "I have something to attend to actually, I'll find you." Before leaving.
"We stayed over at Jade's cause well… We thought you might like to be alone…" Kat confesses while placing a piece of cake on my plate, she frowns at me with mock concern.
They had not slept in my apartment and they explain that they felt I might be heartbroken over seeing my 'lover' with another woman and that I wished to wallow in self pity.
I had inquired why they weren't there this afternoon, or evening but it worked out exceedingly well.
"Obviously it bothered you." Jade says while taking the piece of cake dutifully. "Your hair is shorter and you've been crabbier today." She runs her fingers through my hair before starting on the desert.
Apparently I cut my hair in a fit of jealous rage. I press my elbows into the table and rub my temples.
They take my fever, appearance and dark mood and form their own explanations for it. I am "love sick."
They assume things and fill in for my silence. They immediately categorize me into the 'angsty teenage girl' and create excuses for me.
Although it is humiliating to let them believe I would be so greatly affected by something so mundane and pointless. I cannot deny, it's advantageous.
My thoughts are cut off when a hand clamps down on my injured shoulder and squeezes. I almost choke on the coffee that was making its way down my throat.
"The weather is beginning to clear up!" Gushes Amar as he slides into the bench next to me, he releases my shoulder and bumps me with his hip.
"You guys have to come out today, we started on some of the other thingamabobs too but they're a little worse for wear…" Throws in Joseph as he joins the table.
"Sure." I reply while clearing my throat with a soft cough and swallowing thickly. "I may not be much help."
"What's new?" Kat asks with a laugh. "You can just stand there are and look miserable as usual."
It's not snowing and the sun had already set behind the buildings, subduing the sky but not completely darkening yet.
There are numerous people trekking through the area we use primarily for the war games. Laughter, snowballs and conversation fills the air. The weather has indeed cleared up.
My breath comes out in shallow white huffs as I carry Jade on my back, her arm around my neck tightly while I grip her legs around my waist.
"You've gotten heavy." I complain breathlessly through clenched teeth. My efforts doubled with pain.
"I've been eating all your cake." She says with a laugh, it only becomes especially hard when Kat starts throwing snowballs at us while perched on the shoulders of Joseph as he provides her with the ammo.
Normally it would be Gabriel playing to role of pack mule but as he is still injured, I assumed the role involuntarily when she jumped me. Oblivious to my injuries.
"Hey, you guys are supposed to be helping!" Amar complains but he comes charging at us and I brace myself for unavoidable impact and soon they are a pile of flailing limbs in the cold white snow, while I try unsuccessfully not to get hit.
I lay there letting the wetness seep through my clothing to let the pain fade while listening to all the laughter that becomes louder when Kat smashes a snowball over the top of my head.
"You guys are so mature." Tori says sarcastically before shielding her face with her arms protectively as the white slush explodes around her, she retreats after being pelted numerous times by the others.
Before long a war game ensues. Everyone around becomes targets for compressed snow.
I find my way to Eric who is helping Bud with a large, circular, tented contraption with broken distorted horses, neatly polished but still rusted in certain parts. Portable lights set up around the area to illuminate their work into the night.
Bud tells me if they are successful, they can be painted in the spring, it's a carousel. It consists of a large rotating platform with seating for riders to circle around and around for amusement, it hardly looks as though it will ever move again. Much like the ferris wheel.
Eric ignores my approach, and continues to work over small parts with tools, removing components, and kicking off of sections of the outer fixtures.
His eyes are concentrated on his task, brows furrowed with his mouth pressed into a firm line. I recognize his calculating gaze as he had it several times while scrutinizing me.
If he had been as observant of the leaders as he was of me, he gave no indication of it. It would be remiss of me not to suspect him as well.
I already did from the beginning.
"Ambush!" A voice bellows in the distance.
Eric's expression becomes bewildered with his eyes wide, mouth open in utter shock when the snow bursts over the side of his head applying frost to his hair and clothing, spraying over his work space.
He tackles me into the ground off the carousel. We roll, and I manage to force him back and straddle him beneath me with a ball of snow cupped in my raised hand, he gazes up at me with a wide toothy smile, his fingers still remembering where the nail marks are.
I hesitate bringing the snow down, his eyes narrow, noticing. I bring it down and smash it into his forehead.
Eric rests his chin on my shoulder, his cheek pressed against mine while I work over the control console for the carousel, they had removed the cover to expose the many inner workings on the inside that commands the speed and when to start or stop.
Occasionally his hands will move from around my waist to interrupt my work, or fix an error I've made. The metal tools are cold in my hands and there are many parts that are too rusted and broken, blackened from time that are needed to be removed and replaced.
I have no real experience with this but it's a simple task that requires no real instruction. Take out the damaged pieces and replace them with an identical component.
Next to me is a large tool box with pieces scavenged from building materials and other Dauntless projects long forgotten, at some points he will look through it to produce the next piece I need and then resume his position as warmth.
Eric names some of them and I commit them to memory. Useful knowledge but when he calls some 'doodad' and 'thingamabob' I beging to doubt their true names and any of the instruction he gave me previously.
Jade, Kat, Joseph and several other Dauntless sit on the large horses chattering away while dusting snow and frost from their clothing and hair, having concluded the battle.
The topic of the conversation ranges from Dauntfest activities to next choosing. Everyone present has declared Dauntless. No one asks me.
They also don't ask us about our current position. I wager they will wait till he is not around, my suspicions are confirmed when Kat gives me a disproving frown.
"So you know when I said there was really only one thing you're good at?" Eric asks with a low tone, brushing his lips against my ear, a volume only loud enough for me to hear.
I don't answer him and continue removing a small faded chip with singed connections, the many wires will probably have to be replaced by someone else as I have no real experience with that yet.
"I actually meant tattooing. You're really only good at that." He chuckles while applying pressure to my shoulder with his chin. "Maybe you should consider making that your permanent occupation."
I drop the tool and push my palms into my eyes while stifling a smile at his joke.
Kat punches me in the arm with enough force to bruise and force me against the armrest of my couch, but then she pulls me back apologetically sliding her own arm around my neck, pressing into my throat, pulling me to her side. All of it painful.
It seems with my injury people have been a lot rougher with me, in their defense, they are oblivious to it.
Her arm becomes tighter around my neck, my shoulder is being pressed on. In her words she is 'Keeping me from making a horrible mistake, and getting hurt again'
Kat has not given me an inch in any direction. She tells me not to give in to his 'charm', that I can do better.
She also goes on to say that he is just using me. In a way, I l am just using him. I don't feel particularly inclined to argue with her however.
I give her a bored expression, before glancing back down over her arm to turn a page of my new book, the pictures in this one are more violent and macabre, it is a short one.
That's probably why Eric gave it to me, moment's before propositioning me, asking me to 'stay the night' at his place in front of an audience.
He had done it on purpose, knowing full well how she would react based on her expression. The outcome being that I will now be surrounded by people, ensuring I won't be able to disappear again even when he's not around.
"You guys are so cute." Gabriel says returning from the bathroom with a towel over his head. He limps over to slide down onto the couch next to Kat, draping his arm over the back and puts his legs up over our laps, his still slightly swollen ankle dropped right over the pages of the book.
"Your fingers are freezing!" He yelps when I place my hand over his ankle.
"We are all staying the night here." Kat declares. "We'll have a slumber party…You can get over him. Hang out with some other guys… I mean we haven't hung out with Henry and the others for like, ever."
"If you insist." I reply evenly while lifting Gabriel's foot to turn another page, he does not obstruct most of the images.
It is a short book, depicting how to identify the different types of burns one can suffer from, their severity, and their treatments.
"Wait, get over who now?" Gabriel asks while wiggling his toes.
"Coulter." I respond with more verve than I intended, while tracing over the name engraved into the spine of the book with my fingers. Each letter is carved deeply, I scratch my nails along the indents.
Something of his personal collection. I presume. Of a time when he had an interest in becoming a doctor, or so Jeanine claimed.
"No fucking way!" Gabriel bellows, "I thought that was just a joke." Kat sighs and rests her cheek against my hair and he starts laughing when I lift his foot once more. "Stop, stop you're tickling me!"
Kat has her cheek pressed against the pillow and she smiles at me, it's a devious but sleepy smile.
The comforters are pulled all the way up to our chins so it's warm but she pinches me with her frigid toes. There are sounds of snoring both soft and loud around us, it makes her laugh occasionally, especially when she hears the snores that come from Jade.
"Hey Gene?" She attempts to whisper but her voice is naturally too loud and when someone stirs and coughs she covers her mouth and silently giggles. "Genesis?"
She is inebriated from the night's drinking. It was a small group but one I've come to familiarize myself with. They will severely hinder my opportunities to investigate.
Among other things, my apartment will need to be cleaned in the morning, the couch possibly stripped and washed. Things to occupy my time.
"What?" I ask with a sigh, fluffing my pillow and dropping my head on it a few times. It is not comfortable in the least.
"Get out." Kat says playfully before kicking me hard in the gut, I fall backwards out of the bed sliding between the comforter and the mattresses and I land on top of Joseph wrapped in thick blankets, he grunts and rolls me off of him onto the concrete floor.
"Go… Give him a piece of your mind." She sighs. I cover my face with my hands and relax my tensed jaw.
This night she had dedicated herself to throwing me at every male that appeared, and now she's kicked me out of my bed for the one she wished me to avoid.
My shoulder hurts immensely, and I've not gotten proper sleep. I run my fingers through my hair and pull it slightly before sitting up and pushing myself up off the ground.
"I know you want to." Kat says slyly rolling onto my side to block me from lying back down, she spreads her arms out taking up the length not occupied. "You've had that murderous look on your face all night."
I sigh and step lightly over the sleeping forms all wrapped in blankets, my room is littered with bodies on the cold floor. The main room looks to be the same.
Out in the hall I pause. Remembering the jokes they made about me on surveillance going into but not out of Eric's apartment.
Wondering now, how I would not appear suspicious. They would be watching me, waiting.
I sigh and step back into my own and retrieve Eric's key before heading out again, making my way to his place instead of where I originally intended.
After unlocking it, I open it slowly. The lights are still on and when I enter and close it behind me Eric is already standing, gathering sheets together and closing the folder that was laid before him on the table in the center of his room.
My curiosity piqued I ask. "What are you working on?" As I make my way over to his couch. He looks up at me with an amused expression, putting his hands up as if caught guilty of something.
If he were expecting me, he does not show it but neither does he show if he weren't.
"My proposals." He says matter of factly. "Care to read them?" He gestures to the folder, stepping backwards and because I think he's bluffing, hiding something, I do take it up.
I already know them, most of them, but he has compiled their reasonings and the benefits they would have for Dauntless.
"What?" He asks, contemplating my expression, which must have shown my disappointment. He would not be so careless, and I was not sure what I had expected. "You don't approve? Or were you expecting something else?"
Conscious to the implying tone in his voice, I shrug and focus in on one of his proposed changes.
The one where transfer initiates be segregated from and ostracized by all of Dauntless, including Dauntless born initiates until they pass initiation and become members instead of being welcomed and recognized for choosing Dauntless.
He insists that premature bonding leads to the misconceptions of acceptance, and initiates would not be motivated to try harder.
I press my lips in a firm line, he is not wrong. Objectively.
A separate proposal from the one imposed about them being scored against each other for favorable occupations, which that too is separate from his proposal of then, only having a limited number of positions available to compete for.
The person who controls training, set's the standard for Dauntless behavior. The youngest leader is always tasked with the initiation methods, improving and making changes.
Four years ago the combat portion of training was brief and didn't include bare knuckled sparring. Initiates wore padding. The emphasis was on being strong and capable, and on developing camaraderie with other initiates.
Two years ago they made the change to cut out the padding, steering emphasis towards creating stronger and more capable initiates while developing restraint and mutual trust between them regardless of camaraderie. The thought of having rivalries was also admissible.
"The scoring system is meant to encourage and determine individuals with enthusiasm for Dauntless." I tell him.
"You don't trust me." He replies, ignoring what I just said. He steps around the table, behind me, brushing the hair from the side of my face and over my shoulder with a hand.
He'd not fallen for my misdirection but I persist, having the opportunity to give him my thoughts on the topic for the first time.
"Scoring transfers against Dauntless born, and limiting the availability of spots would ensure failures." I continue as he wraps a hand around my stomach, pulling me backwards and against him. His chin resting on my shoulder like earlier today. "It would create hosti-"
"It would produce only the most enthusiastic initiates." He says. "You can trust that I want what's best for Dauntless, only the most dedicated and strong willed would pass and become one of us."
I bristle at his mention of becoming one of us and also at the thought of being able to trust him about wanting what's best, most of all, at my slow acceptance and understanding that it may be.
"Their fear of becoming faction-less would be more of a motivation." I tell him but my tone suggests I am telling myself as well. "It will create division amongst the initiates, transfers and dauntless born, they would-"
"Do whatever it takes not to fail." He says before I can finish my sentence. "And those that would do whatever it takes to succeed, can be bargained with. Controlled."
He says the last word close to my ear. A hot breath against my neck. Control.
"What about Dauntless values." I ask him flipping to another page with his list of new rules. One of them even being that dauntless born under choosing age, before their choosing are prohibited from getting tattoos and piercings. Even to go so far as prohibiting drinking until an even older age.
"Dauntless needs to be reigned in. Our duties need to be taken more seriously." He explains instead of assuring. "You of all people can see that."
"I am not the one you need to convince." I reply with finality, tossing his folder back onto the table and pulling away from his grasp. "Your suggestions will be brought forth at a meeting and del-"
"I have convinced you though, haven't I?" He chuckles, relinquishing his hold easily before throwing himself unceremoniously onto the couch, draping his arm across the back rest.
I don't answer, instead I lean against the table and study him. His casual demeanor, the hidden meanings and implications he throws out wantonly. He is a conundrum.
"I see the way you watch people living their easy carefree lives, not knowing of the hidden dangers that threaten the very fabrics of it." He pauses and looks at me expectantly as if I were meant to elaborate and when I don't he says. "You see weakness, their pointless-"
"Get to your point." I admonish.
"You resent them for it." He says with a matter of fact shrug. "You have been brutalized, burdened, with responsibility and purpose. It has made you brutal in return."
I sigh, and resist the petulant urge to roll my eyes at him, I may have overestimated his ability of deduction.
He smiles.
"The only difference between us is the way we accomplish our goals. You are a bloody thing." He says this as if I am pitiable for it. "I settle for the careful and quiet accumulation of power. . ."
I'd known this, though not to what end.
"Anyway, I'll take the couch." He says as I turn away from him towards the bedroom, having heard more than enough though more stifling my curiosity.
I wake at 3:50 A.M. My watch still on my wrist and Eric is still asleep with his head lain heavily on my shoulder, an arm draped over my waist.
He had said he would take the couch but there would be no use arguing over it now.
I have a lot of neglected work to catch up on, not to mention a conference to attend at 5 A.M, but this position greatly restricts my movements.
Uncaring of his comfort, I shove him off and he jerks awake, his eyes wide and alert as he scans the room and then relaxes as though unable to spot any danger, it was almost amusing.
I push the comforters off and make my way to the door.
Eric lays back, stretching before putting his arms behind his head and placing a pillow over his lower half, although he is fully clothed in the same outfit he wore yesterday and still under the covers.
"Morning." He greets with a drawn out yawn. "I would get up to help but-"
Then I notice fresh clothes and a belt laid out on the dresser.
"I'm capable of dressing myself." I reply flatly while buttoning the uniformed black pants, they are slightly larger and I retrieve the belt, discarding my sleep pants on the floor, kicking them to the side.
I'm hardly injured enough to require assistance, my condition has already greatly improved from the previous day.
"That wasn't exactly what I was implying." Eric laughs, his expression becomes amused and then thoughtful. "I guess I can afford to be a little straightforward with you now that we know each other better…" He trails off as though he is deliberating.
I ignore him and strip my shirt off and inspect my stitches. They are red and irritated and slightly tender.
"Would you like to have phenomenal morning sex and then go out for some coffee?" He asks conversationally, his question is definitely straightforward, not to mention vulgar and brash.
My brows furrow instantly at his complacent and casual expression, it's as if he just asked if I wanted to go out for coffee alone.
I pull the fresh black shirt over my head, and my hair out through the neck hole and I can feel my petulance rising.
His expression goes from taunting to bewildered in a matter of seconds when I crawl onto the bed over to him and remove the pillow disguising pitched comforters.
He sits up immediately with raised brows unsure of my intentions when I straddle him, but he wraps his arms around my waist and I reciprocate by placing mine around his neck as he very cautiously tilts his head in, his eyes never leave mine.
His over all reaction with his slow and meticulous movements suggests that he did not expect me to comply or that he suspects duplicity.
I lean in with no intention of placing my lips upon his. Instead my teeth find the tattoo on the column of his neck and I bite down on his flesh with almost enough pressure to break skin, his answering moan and involuntary shudder comes highly unanticipated.
I had expected him to gasp in pain or become enraged and force me away, not the opposite.
His hands slide up my back and grip my shoulders roughly, causing a momentary sharp sting from the stitches when he pulls me down and against him while he tilts his head back as if to offer me more access.
When I remove my teeth he squeezes my injured shoulder in protest, a sound of disapproval escapes him.
I am stunned. His eyes are half lidded and his breathing becomes shallow. My inexperience with this sort of situation apparent but surely this is not how he should be reacting to physical pain.
I've no idea what to do in the situation that I've initiated but I persist. My fingers intertwine in his hair to grip it firmly in my fist and I pull his head further back and find my teeth clamped over the small exposed space between his shoulder-blade and neck.
"Fuck." He growls, the sound is agonized but heavily pleading for me to continue and his hands grip my hips to anchor me.
I drag my tongue over the new mark and up to his ear and his fingers dig into my skin under my shirt eagerly, I vaguely note that he has no flavor uncertain if he should have.
I throw myself off him instantly at that thought.
His eyes snap open and he glares at me with a raw and uncivilized look. "Where are you going?" He snaps, his voice is breathless and highly agitated, his teeth are bared at me, his hands clasp the comforters to throw them off of himself.
My petulance was thoroughly assuaged and I've no further desire to torture him or experiment with his reactions to physical pain.
I shrug complacently and smooth my shirt before opening the door to exit. "Your new rules would prohibit relations between us."
I close the door behind me and breathe deeply to calm the irksome pounding against my rib cage. The exhilarating feeling liken to a fight made me feel energized, violent.
"Another year is coming to a close." Marcus Eaton starts before droning on about the preparation for next year's aptitude tests and choosing ceremony.
This year Candor officials will be administering the tests and then next year will revert to Dauntless.
Which means Jeanine will probably have a list of people that they will be monitoring closely to determine the faction they choose because Candor never lie about abnormal results.
I sit with my cheek in my palm while I scrutinize the man wearing Abnegation gray, my fingers tap the long white conference table impatiently.
He managed to show up.
"Gene." Max's soft voice cuts through my musing. I blink and look at him, he has on a slightly amused expression. "Marcus Eaton looks like he's got a wad of Abnegation stuck in his curd hole." He whispers and then starts laughing raucously, pounding his tattooed fist into the table right in the middle of Marcus' speech.
I cover my face and grit my teeth when the other factions representatives glance in our direction.
The smell of alcohol lingers on his breath and Falen is the one that drove, Dauntfest has indeed started and even the Leaders participate with unrestrained drinking.
Marcus continues his speech uninterrupted going on about the selection for the choosing ceremonies speaker but I notice Jeanine cover her mouth as though to disguise her smile, even Johanna Reyes of Amity looks to have enjoyed Max's interruption, she and her female company both have bright smiles on and try besides themselves not to laugh.
Max clears his throat, shrugging and sitting straight, impartial to the attention. Falen scoffs near him with his hand clasped over his eyes, pinching his temples with his thumb and pointer.
"I think everyone here could use a drink." He jokes.
I nod my head slowly in angreement to Falen's comment while Jeanine Matthew's trains her icy-blue gaze on me, her long spider like fingers covering her straight white teeth.
As soon as we reach Jeanine's meticulously organized glass office she kicks her heels off onto her hard linoleum floor and runs a hand through her hair before placing her glasses onto her nose.
I nudge her discarded shoes out of the walkway, against the wall and join Falen and Max at the white leather chairs around her table.
"As we all know, this coming year will be Genesis' choosing, and initiation." Jeanine starts immediately before we all settle. This marks one of the first occasions that she has ever worn her spectacles on her face, she is trying to appear objective. "And that brings us to one of the many topics of our current discussion."
Jeanine has been anticipating this coming year, as I would be the most volatile and likely to defect.
It's plausible, although I have calmed myself, fallen into routine again, I have shown reluctance.
More than just myself have noticed.
I'd suspected Eric had reported his observations on the matter but to bring him up again would only make me appear the same as before.
I nod my head absently, sitting back into the cold leather, with my arm resting on the table. Pinched between my pointer and thumb is a single daisy.
The moment the conference was concluded I should have expected, when Johanna's smiling female assistant came straight for me, that she would give me a flower.
The stem twists between my fingers, spinning the petals around and around and I listen idly while Jeanine, Max and Falen deliberate, it seems more of a debate the way that they bicker like they're half their age.
They want to implement 'Safety Measures.' Or precautions which I would also do if I were in their position but I know one of them has their own hidden agenda.
Falen and Jeanine feel I should be excluded from all further meetings and anything related to leadership, all my duties, responsibilities, weapons and clearances are to be relinquished during the duration of my initiation which would be a standard 'probation' period.
So that I can't use them to my 'advantage'.
Max complains audibly that this will make life harder for them because I'm their paper-pusher, I assist with currency tracking, the distribution schedules, the wall regime, determining the off duty and on duty rotations, work and rest hours. . .
I've done a fair amount of their work in my spare time.
Jeanine goes so far as to suggest that Eric learn them ahead of time in preparation for the position. Over the other leaders in training.
It's obvious that with me out of the job for the time being Eric will take over my routine responsibilities.
"Let's just come to an agreement." Falen sighs, leaning forward to put his hands on the desk.
"All aforementioned conditions." Jeanine says pulling her face down into a frown. "Take away her toys-"
"My toys ?" I ask, upon hearing that I could not help myself, wretched from my silent musings.
"Oh ho." Max says, he begins coughing up an obscenely large amount of smoke, pounding a fist into his chest to stop his hacking.
I grit my teeth and press my lips into a firm line to prevent more outbursts. Crushing the flower in my fist.
"You are restricted from leaving Dauntless grounds unsupervised, no weapons. Eric needs to learn basic leadership duties. You teach him and he can be your chaperon." Falen says. "Besides I thought you kids were getting along anyway…"
Max kicks his boots up. "You're going to be working with him a lot longer than the rest of us."
I shove the crumpled flower into my jacket and keep my clenched fists in there.
Jeannine nods her head slowly while tapping her long nails against the table top. Seemingly satisfied.
I stand abruptly and glare at the three people sitting comfortably in their leather chairs before making my way to the glass doors.
"You can't go anywhere without supervision." Falen says jokingly as though my probation starts at this very moment. "Oh and make sure to put your seat belt on in the car, Max is driving back."
"And we'll be by to pick up your toys." Max adds with a chuckle before the door can close behind me.