Ashes

Chapter 8: Redemption

Hi guys. After the response to the last chapter posted I decided to write this next one earlier than planned.

Let me just say that I do believe in happy endings--but I also believe that in order to achieve a happy ending one has to work for it. Divergent isn't based off of real life so I think that means the people in this universe would have to work even harder to get a happy ending.

Rest assured, there will be more than just angst during this story.

Thank you for the votes and comments. I'm not sure how much longer this story will be.

~Caruscus

------------------------------------------------------

A change in his breathing alerts me to the fact that Eric is waking up. I don't move, remaining stationary in my chair beside the bed where his body lies. With a little help from Tobias, the two of us moved him to his apartment and threw him on his bed. Tobias wasn't happy and wanted me to leave with him, but I refused. I needed to be here when Eric woke up.

The corner of his mouth curls before he opens his eyes. He groans, slowly lifting a hand to his face to block some of the light from shining on him. I stand and walk over to the doorway, flicking the switch to turn the lights off completely. He pauses at that, noticing that he's not the only one in the room. I walk back over to my chair, folding my legs underneath me and leaning back quietly, watching him.

He lets out a sigh, dropping his hand back on the bed beside him. "I know it's you, Crys."

I don't say anything. It's dark in the room so he can't see me frowning at him.

A minute passes in silence. He seems to get the hint that I'm not going to talk to him that easily.

"You really did a number on my head."

Nothing.

"I couldn't find you all day."

"..."

"I'm not sorry, okay?" Eric finally says, exasperated. He sits up quickly, but then instantly places a hand to his face. He pauses before speaking again. "The prick deserved it."

I shake my head to myself, staring at him. I can't make out all of his features, but I'm able to tell he's not smiling at me.

"Do you," I stop, clearing the thickness from my throat, "do you even understand how you make me feel?"

He's the silent one this time. I continue on.

"Everything you do, everything you say, it affects me. Whether in a good way or a bad way, that's up to you." I swallow. "But lately, Eric, you have had a nasty habit of making it a bad way."

He doesn't say anything, staring straight ahead. I can't see his face that well so it's hard to tell exactly just what it is he's thinking.

"I'm not good with talking about my feelings."

"You were with me."

He doesn't say anything right away. Sometimes I think he forgets everything we've been through these past few years. I can't forget. My mind won't let me forget.

"Come here."

I don't move from my position.

"...please."

Hesitating only a second, I stand up and make my way over to his bed. I sit down on the edge, leaving a foot between us. I was planning on staying there but he apparently has other ideas in mind. He reaches over and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close against him and flopping back on the bed. Shouting his name I make my lack of compliance known. I wiggle in his grasp, knowing that if I'm being held in his embrace I won't be able to think as clearly as I want to right now, but he doesn't let go. In fact, his arms tighten around me.