𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝟎𝟐𝟐

"𝙄'𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙧
𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙄 𝙖𝙞𝙣'𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙣𝙚.
𝙄'𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙩 𝙪𝙥
𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙤 𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙜𝙪𝙣."

𝘙𝘪𝘰𝘵 - 𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘺𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘜𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥

▲ ▲ ▲ ▲

Only two long and brutal training days after your fight with Peter and everything was more or less back to the way it used to be. As soon as the nurses confirmed that he hadn't 'accidentally' re-broken any of your ribs, you hit the ground running and didn't step foot off of the track until Will yanked you back inside by the collar of your shirt. If anyone still believed that rumor about you and Eric, they did their very best not to let it show when you passed them in the corridors between training sessions.

As if nothing had ever happened at all, Peter was back to his snarky and unbashful masochistic self. It would take a long time for you to adapt to the idea of being his friend. Or anyone's friend, really. Besides Tris and Tori, who could you really trust around here while so many people were willing to hurt others to keep their heads above water?

"I think I wanna get a tattoo."

Everyone was piled onto either yours or Peter's cots in the damp concrete corner of the initiate barracks. Peter must have done some major ass-kissing while you were out of commission because he'd earned enough initiate credits to buy himself a tablet just like the ones that your instructors carried around. If you cared a little bit more about the world outside of Dauntless, you would have been begging him to let you borrow it. But you weren't and he was just as content scanning the Erudite news outlet into the early hours of the morning all by himself while occasionally shaking you awake so he could read you the most interesting stories.

Your voice shattered the comfortable silence that had been resting atop the six of you. Christina quirked an eyebrow, pushing herself off of Will's chest with a surprised chuckle. "That came out of literally nowhere."

Tris laughed in agreement and you shrank against Peter's side, suddenly wishing you had never brought it up. Maybe some Dauntless experiences were better reserved for after initiation.

"Woah, hey now, come back here," Peter laughed, nudging your face away with his shoulder. "Can't just disappear after dropping that bomb. I wanna hear all about this new rebellious nature of yours."

"Why do you want to get a tattoo, (Y/N)?" Tris asked, leaning forward with a gentle and understanding smile. From this angle, she offered you a perfect view of the fresh black ink plastered across her collarbone. Three birds taking flight, wings splayed out as if they were about to soar right off of her skin and start circling the air above your heads.

Shrugging, you pulled your black combat boot onto the cot and started picking at the frayed rubber heel. Your training wardrobe was wearing thin from weeks of wear and tear. You were counting down the days until you could shed this old skin and use your initiation credits to buy yourself some new clothes in your very own style. Assuming you would make it through the rest of the summer. "I dunno," you said. "Everyone else has one."

"You should only do something like this because you want to do it, not because anyone else does." Tris silenced everyone's laughter and reached across the empty concrete moat to settle her hand on top of yours. "When you're really ready, I'll go with you."

You were really ready now, but the disbelief in their eyes made you second-guess the decision you'd already spent weeks mulling over in your head.