Fractured | Tobias Eaton ✓

41 | You Saved Me

My voice catches in my throat as I try to come up with a valid excuse. "Uh..." I pause–still thinking. "Well, you see–"

Four laughs again, "I don't see. Only thing I see is the darkness. I can feel though." His use of 'feel' makes my cheeks redden. I'm so thankful he can't see me. "I can feel that you just blushed by how hot you got just then."

This only makes my embarrassment grow–and with it; my temperature too. That damned chuckle continues to worsen my shame.

That's when I feel air around us as the walls break on every side of us. He falls backward and I go down with him. I'm still wrapped around his torso and realize immediately, drawing backward.

Four's hands land on my hips and it sends heat all the way through me. I gulp. "You're never like this," He comments and I look down at his chest, my hands holding myself upright. "Never... shy."

"I've never had a reason to be shy... I guess." I begin to fiddle with my hands as Four sits up with ease, I fall into his lap with a gasp.

"Sorry," He says, helping me up. "I have one more question," I raise my eyebrows, taking his hand as we stand up. "Am I in your fear landscape?"

My face gives away my answer before I can cover it. "A lot of people are." I say instead, still holding his hand. "You may have shown up once or twice."

"That's a terribly long way of saying yes," Four's got a smug grin on his face and it makes my stomach do flip flops. "I don't wanna get your..." I look over my shoulder at what made his face fall and see a woman... holding a gun.

"What is–" There's a gun beside Four on a table now... and one bullet sitting beside it. "...oh." I say, understanding. "You've got to kill her, don't you?"

Four nods, his Adam's apple bobbing, "Every single time." He opens and clenches his fist.

I glance back at the woman, "It's like everything else so far, not real."

"Looks pretty real to me," He says. I've seen him fire a gun before... that must not be the issue. It has to be the act. The act of shooting someone must be his fear. "It's okay, I'll just... do it, this one's not so bad. Not so much panic involved."

The swiftness in which Four picks up the gun and fires it surprises me. I didn't get a chance to look away and watch in horror as blood blossoms on the woman's face like a flower. I hear the sound of her neck snapping due to the force and she falls to the ground loudly.

"Oh my–" I gasp, unable to look away. We both stare at the (now) dead woman. I snap out of it before he does, "I... come on," My hand wraps around his wrist, pulling him forward.

I fear what could be next. Because if the box made him so panicked I worried he might have some kind of panic attack and the heights did the same–what could possibly be next? There hasn't been any... real fear, only panic. There hasn't been any terror. And this is the last chance for any of that.

"Here we go," I hear him whisper and it makes my brows furrow in confusion. As if I wasn't confused already.

There's a circle of light that practically blinds me, I step behind Four so I can try and see. Something eclipses the light and I lift my hand, freeing my eyes from their protection. This figure steps forward and I decide it must be a person.

From the shape of their body–I notice they must be a man. Who?

When the man emerges, I step back–remembering Marcus Eaton so clearly from the choosing ceremony. "Marcus Eaton?" I ask, looking at Four for any sign of confirmation.