𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝟎𝟏𝟖

"𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚.
𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙣.
𝙄 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙄'𝙢 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙄 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜,
𝘿𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙄'𝙫𝙚 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜."

𝘐 𝘞𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘎𝘰 - 𝘚𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘗𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭

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Like clockwork, Eric found himself back in the infirmary as it neared the earliest hours of the morning. And as much as he wanted to claim righteousness for going out of his way to ensure you were fine, it was just as much for his benefit as it was yours.

He couldn't eat, sleep, let alone think of anything other than the fact that you were laying there alone, bedridden, broken, and bruised right next to the kid who could and would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

To sate the itch in the back of his mind, Eric crept in at half-past three in the morning, well past the visiting hours that the nurse had recited to him. He pulled up a chair and sat in the very middle of the room where he could easily peer past the curtain that concealed you from Edward's hulking, albeit sleeping, form.

The next morning, when they clear him of infection, they'll ship him back to his holding cell at the very bottom of the pit with nothing but an eyepatch wrapped over the empty socket in his face. That's where he'll stay until Max decides whether or not his actions were warranted for disqualification.

But until then, Edward was stuck here with you. Which meant Eric was too.

He'd never been as royally pissed as he was when Four started spouting that bullshit about how you needed to toughen up. Never in his entire life would Eric ever forgive himself for letting them try and beat the compassion out of you like it was some kind of disease.

The machinery rang out all around him, drifting off the walls of the otherwise eerily silent room. All of the noises seemed to muddle together after so long sitting still, watching you breathe. But on any given day, he could have named the exact make and model of each machine keeping you alive just from the whirring of their fans or the shade of light emitting from their screens. They were as distinct as bird calls to him.

Out of the stillness of the infirmary, the memory of your voice rings out like a whisper.

"Did you ever...I mean...you studied medicine, right?"

He should have cursed himself right then and there for being so blatantly nostalgic for his studies, but the curiosity brimming in your eyes when you wondered about his past made him crave those long, winding library shelves and the sterile, white labs of his medical classrooms. He was supposed to be a doctor — everything about his test scores indicated as such. But Jeanine saw something in him; something that had been grossly overlooked by both his parents and professors.

Thunder roared and a web of lightning illuminated your face through the splintered window. Eric often forgot that the upper floors had windows. He wasn't often above ground, let alone long enough to catch thunderstorms like this one.

Moonlight dripped onto your face and phantom raindrops rolled down your bruised cheekbones. You looked all the more delicate without the harsh red glow of the underground lights obscuring your features. Slowly, as if afraid to disturb you, Eric sank further into his seat and allowed his knees to part.

You deserved moonlight. You deserved the sun. He couldn't protect you here.

The last thought prompted him to turn toward Edward with a disgusted snarl. The bandage over his eye had been changed twice, but a pinprick of blood was already dotting through the pristine white cloth. Max had already taken the measures to ensure that Eric wouldn't be present in the council of Dauntless leaders deciding Edward's fate, which was probably for the best. Anguish had blinded him to the justice he so deeply craved.

He watched your chest rise and fall to a soundtrack of rain trickling down the exposed foundation that wound around the outside of the compound like vines. You never looked more like you did the first time he saw you. The very first time; a memory he was forced to suppress for far too long.

Eric's jaw locked and he rose unexpectedly—restlessly—with a fist clamped tight in his hair. He hated how thinking of that made him feel, the ache it gave him. He hated how effortlessly you were able to affect him like that.

Maybe Four was right. Maybe you were a weakness. His.

Lightning split the black sky and the crackling of thunder followed soon after. Your winced in your sleep and turned away from the tall window, curling in on yourself slightly. The storm was reaching its peak, and some part of Eric was already getting excited about making the initiates sweep up debris around the compound when the sun rose in a few hours.

He wondered if anyone else was awake so early in the morning, counting the seconds between lightning strikes. Or if it was just him, standing in the middle of an empty room.

The black leather cuffs groaned as they strained around Edward's bruised fists. He was stirring in his sleep, fingers tightening around empty air. Without giving him a second glance, Eric took the curtain that divided your two cots and threw it shut. He didn't need you waking up to that in the morning.

Below him, you made a soft humming sound as you settled back down into the thin infirmary bedding. Eric didn't realize that he'd gravitated toward you until he could feel the warmth radiating off of your body. The urge to reach out and touch you came upon him suddenly and it frightened him, daring him to reel back and return to his seat in the front of the room.

But he couldn't bring himself to turn away from you. So instead, he slid closer, lips hovering inches above your temple.

It was supposed to be a quick peck — just a graze of the forehead to keep him grounded. But once he planted himself there, breathing in your honey and fresh-linen scent, it became impossible for him to tell himself to pull away.

Finally, after a few moments, Eric pulled back, not allowing himself another look at your sleeping face before retreating out of the room and marching back down the hall.

That buzzing sensation remained long after he'd left you. It was almost embarrassing having to admit to himself what you did to him. There was no one else in the dark corridor to witness when he paused his footsteps and swiped his thumb across his bottom lip, trying to brush away that addictive electric feeling. But it stayed.

Eric had training sessions to plan and initiates to rank. He couldn't be caught taking an early morning stroll past your room, even if by his lowest-ranking subordinates. But no matter how many times he told himself how wrong it was, or how devastating it could be to his career in Dauntless, he knew it wouldn't be long until he felt it again — that undeniable urge to be by your side. 

(A/N: I haven't updated in forever solely because I was avoiding writing this chapter, but I just deleted the part I didn't like and made it like 3x shorter lmao. But it's really good content so I saved it separately and I'm going to put it in a chapter further down the line. It's just...like I feel like I have way too many flashbacks in here. Whatever. Miles Teller is like mainstream now so I need more Peter moments. Also, we've been in the infirmary for like 10 chapters. Y/N needs to get her shit together smh).