𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝟎𝟐𝟏

"𝙇𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩,
𝘽𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨
𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙫𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙨.
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙫𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙨."

𝘉𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 - 𝘐𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘴

▲ ▲ ▲ ▲

Despite bargaining for a shortened bedrest, you ended up spending the rest of the week in the infirmary and effectively using up the very last of your excused absences from training. You didn't have the guts to face anyone after Peter's accusation. Not even your closest friends, although they continued to visit you regularly.

You sat on your cot, holding your baggy grey shirt up around your middle so that one of the nurses could unwind the massive white bandage from around your torso. It had been weighing down on you for ages now and your first breath without it felt like a stack of bricks had been lifted off of your lungs.

Your nurse inspected you briefly before typing something into the tablet in her opposite hand. "The bruising along your ribs and sternum healed nicely," she said, offering you a wink. "So long as you don't get into any altercations in the next 48 hours, I'd say you're good to go."

"Are you that eager to get rid of me?"

She snorted and began preparing her tools to conduct the rest of your scheduled tests. Two quick knocks on the door prompted her to hum without lifting her head — her own way of saying 'come in' that was only known by those who'd been trapped there in her presence for days on end.

You glanced up as the door opened and felt the smile on your face immediately go slack. "Eric?"

"Initiate," he replied, eyeing you strangely. He looked just as stiff as ever dressed in his formal uniform — a sleek grey jacket with Dauntless military honors stacked on the lapel. Perhaps he had a meeting with some Erudite executives that you weren't supposed to know about. 

After a beat of tense silence, your eyes grew wide and you dropped your shirt, having completely forgotten that you were holding it up in the first place. Clearing his throat, Eric slowly turned from you to your nurse and folded his hands behind his back. "Mind if I steal your patient for a few minutes?"

"Oh, by all means, sir. She's wearing on my nerves."

She's smiling as she says it, but you still stick your tongue out at her as you hop down from the table and grab your jacket before following your instructor out of the room. He pretended not to notice your subtle limp, though he still slowed his step so that he fell into perfect pace with you as you staggered down the main corridor toward the cafeteria.

You were doing everything in your power not to look him in the eye. Just when you were starting to think that the frightened little girl in yellow skirts had been beaten out of you, there she was in all of her golden glory, making you cower in the presence of Eric Coulter.

As fellow instructors crossed your path, Eric would nod stiffly and straighten his posture. There was obviously someone lingering around these halls that he didn't want to be caught slacking in front of. 

Once he'd marched you about halfway across the compound and he was sure that the two of you were completely alone, Eric swallowed thickly and stared dead ahead with zero indication that he was even addressing you at all. "Four has informed me of some discourse amongst your initiate class."