I start sprinting, my pace matching my heart beat. I need to go somewhere, but I don't know where. I can't even concentrate on anything but escaping.
Bullets pierce parts of the ground as soon as my feet leave them. I sprint faster, not waiting to see where the bullets go. If I can make it to the alley, I can disappear into the buildings and whoever it is won't find me. I only get around twenty yards away from the alley before I hear more footsteps behind me. I hear one final gunshot.
The pain is sharp and sudden, beginning in my forearm and spreading outward. A scream stops in my throat, and I fall. I turn my head and look over my shoulder, my cheek scraping the concrete, to see a figure in black. They stand there watching me, and I feel smaller than I ever have.
But something about the way they're standing feels familiar. Mesmerising, in a way.
"Tobias!" I cry out. Unless that's him in front of me, and he truly wanted me to meet him, he should be around here somewhere.
"Tris!" Someone yells, materialising around the corner of the building. They run to my aid, but as they get close I see that it's not Tobias helping me. It's Elliot.
"Elliot.." He helps me up carefully. I grit my teeth, leaning into him. "Wait, look." I point to where the person who shot me was standing, but they're gone.
Elliot follows my gaze, and says, "There's no one here, Tris."
"I swear, someone was stood right there!"
He looks at the blood trailing down my arm and the hand clamped around it. "Clearly."
His breaths are warm in contrast to the crisp air. Nothing else is warm. I'm not warm.
"Here." He unzips his jacket and takes off his shirt. I feel weird around his bare upper half, but it's not like it even compares to Tobias's. Nothing compares to Tobias.
"What are you doing?" I ask weakly.
"This will help." Elliot folds up his shirt and wraps it around my forearm. "Are you okay?" I narrow my eyes at him, and he shakes his head. "Sorry, stupid question."
"What's that?" Elliot asks. He releases me and I have to lean against the wall of a building for support. He walks to a spot on the floor, and on it I make out the barrel of a gun.
He crouched down to pick up the gun, but I yell, "stop!"
Elliot straightens up. "What?"
"That's the gun of the person who shot me," I say in an obvious tone.
"And?"
"And," I say, stepping closer, "we can't find out who it was if it has your fingerprints all over it."
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of black leather gloves before waving them at me. Elliot wiggles his eyebrows at me so I roll my eyes.
Gloves on hands, he picks it up with his index finger and thumb before embracing its full weight with his whole hand.
"Elliot?" A smiling Freya turns the corner and runs up to us, holding the other team's flag. "Where were you? We won!"
YOU ARE READING
Pretty Little Divergent
FanfictionRight now, I'm sitting with my back against our bedroom door listening to the sound of Tris breathing. Judging by the shadow that peers from under door, she's sat on the other side of it. "I need you to let me in," she says quietly. Or maybe it's j...
