I am broken ~ divergent eric

Chapter Thirteen

Eric's POV

I open my eyes and see the usual- black walls, television, bookcases- but when I realise the 'pillow' I'm laid on isn't actually a pillow, loads of feelings wash over me.

Confusion, but at the same time, the feeling you get when you know something's happened, when you know what you've done.

When I look to the side, I see something that looks like a sleeping, fallen angel.

Her hair, cascading around her face and down her shoulders.

Her eyes, closed shut, making her look at ease, at peace.

The way she's laid on him, the way her arms cling around his waist and his shoulders. The way her body heat seeps through her clothing and onto his skin.

This is not the girl he knows.

The girl who insulted him.

The girl who threatened her friends she'd dangle them over the Chasm.

The girl who beat up her friend just to prove a point.

The girl who's never off guard, who's always watching, always listening.

But right now, where she's so vulnerable, where she looks at ease for the first time since meeting her. He just wants to stay like this- with her in his arms - forever.

Forever and eternity.

But... If he doesn't wake her up, he'll also go back to sleep, and get them both into trouble causing rumours to spread all around Dauntless.

If that happened, he's sure that she'd have a lot more to put up with in initiation, surely she's got enough on her plate already.

And, as a leader, it wouldn't be good to make him look irresponsible, because of both himself, and his initiates.

If he came to work late, it wouldn't set a good example, and if his initiates come in late, he'll definitely be made to look like a fool.

He massages swirls into her cheek, and he feels her heartbeat go from a steady and even pulse to a quickened, but still steady, heartbeat.

Even her heartbeat stays at least a little calm in the craziest of moments.

Her eyelids are torn open, leaving brown eyes behind. She blinks a few times, before linking her sight with mine. Her eyes lead down to my arms and follow my tattoo, crawling up my shirt. Her eyes linger on my T-shirt, and it seems to me that she must be thinking.

But about what? My tattoo? My shirt? Both. She was probably wanting to see the rest of my tattoo.

Well...

Life's a bitch.

I smirk, and I see a glint in Lana's eyes.

'Honestly, I don't even know what people find so funny these days.' She says.

Sarcasm? Again?

I lift an eyebrow.

'I do.' I say.

'Would you care to enlighten me?' Lana asks, lifting her brow just like mine.

She really loves that sentence.

I chuckle to myself.

'Is that your motto?' I ask her.

'What?' Lana pulls a confused face.

'Would you care to enlighten me- is that your motto?' I repeat, the confused look disappears from her features.

'Not really... Stop changing topics!' She says childishly, slapping my shoulder playfully, making me smile.

'Your reaction.' I murmur, Lana frowns.

'I find your reaction funny.' I confirm, Lana looks like she understands.

'Oh.' She says. Is that it?

'Oh- is that all you're going to say?' I asks, wanting a better answer.

'Yep.' She replies.

'Well... that's unfortunate...' I answer quietly.

'Why?' She asks, looking up into my eyes.

Give her an answer, an honest answer. No sarcasm, no cockiness, straight up honesty.

Tell her.

Do it.

I shuffle closer to Lana, never pulling my eyes away from hers.

Her eyes put me in a small trance, and a few words slip out accidentally.

'Of all the things I could do to you...' I mumble.

Luckily, I shut my mouth before anything else escapes.

'What?' She asks. She must not have heard me.

I don't know what to say...

'Nothing.' I answer

'Didn't sound like nothing.' She shoots back.

What do I say? How do I answer her?

Easy.

You don't.

I clear my throat.

'How are your injuries?' I ask, changing the topic. Please work.

'They're fine.' She snaps. 'How are your injuries, Eric?' She questions, leaving me puzzled.

'What injuries?' I frown.

'You know, the ones your not telling me about?' I deepen the frown.

'Why did you change the topic?' She asks, I unfurrow my brow.

'Why avoid the question?' I stay quiet.

'If you have something to tell me, tell me. Straight up. Now.' She adds.

I look deep into her eyes, past the look outside, and to the inside.

Eyes are the window to the soul, apparently. And what I see now is hope.

A little bit is effective, a lot is dangerous.

I draw my face closer to hers, our eyes glued to each others, I feel her hope build up inside of me.

And that's when-