𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝟎𝟎𝟒

"𝙎𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙨
𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙜𝙣𝙞𝙯𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚
𝙈𝙞𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙧 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙡
𝙏𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮."

𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘖𝘶𝘵 𝘋𝘢𝘺𝘴 - 𝘗𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮

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{ 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫 }

Eric liked Erudite. He liked the labyrinth of libraries that provided perfect hiding spots when he didn't feel like showing up to class. He liked the swell of pride that washed through him when he knew something that his classmates hadn't, or when he arrived back at home with a perfect score on his report card. Eric liked Erudite.

But the Choosing Ceremony was in Amity.

He'd never been a fan of this part of the city—if you could still even call it that. It was too open. Eric was used to weaving in and out of skyscrapers and alleyways. Looking out and seeing nothing but open fields made him feel exposed. Anxious even.

Eric Coulter didn't do anxious. He had to get the fuck out of here.

"Dauntless!"

Johnanna, the representative of Amity, announced. She smiled in a way that came off as friendly, but he'd spent enough time with Candor by then to know what it really said.

The domestic factions— Candor, Erudite, and Abnegation—rarely defected to the outliers. And when they did, it was never for good reason.

He tried to avoid the burning glare of his parents who were hidden somewhere in the stands. Not because he couldn't, but because he promised himself that if he actually went through with it, there would be no turning back. None.

So he looked forward. Past the low hanging lanterns. Past the outcropping of families who hadn't been able to find seats, right to the edge of the hillside where the lamplight made jagged shapes across the burnt grass. There, half hidden behind a veil of shadows, one little face looked right back at him.

Eric's first reaction was to look away, but some great unseen force held his eyes in place, forcing him to squint through the dim light to see you more clearly. He'd seen those eyes before. That face, that awed expression. His mind had muffled the details over time, but he'd met you before. He was certain.

Curiosity instantly melted into pride. It had been a long time since someone had looked at him like that—wide eyed and genuinely impressed. His achievements only held shock value for so long before they became expected of him.

He swiped the cloth bandage from Johanna's hand without a word, dropping the ceremonial dagger back on the long driftwood table as the crowd clapped him off the platform and into the column of seats reserved specifically for Dauntless.

Eric was still thinking about you, occasionally trying to turn around in his seat to spot you again, when the final name was called to the choosing table.

"Tobias Eaton."

A few murmurs escaped from the crowd and he whipped his head around to watch Tobias descend down the aisle. At that point, there wasn't a person alive in Chicago who didn't know who Tobias Eaton was or what his father supposedly did to him.

Eric scoffed and looked away from the platform. He'd choose something predictable—Candor or Amity. Something he could escape to. Something safe. Maybe he'd even stay in Abnegation, too afraid of the lengths Marcus would go to in order to make him pay for the embarrassment of defecting.