tobias | ✔

eleven - tobias

Settling back against the driver’s seat of Tobias’s F-150 truck, Tris glared hard out the front window. She could still feel as though Eric was looking at her, tracking her with his eyes, even though he wasn’t outside or even standing inside the door.

“Tris?”

Her gaze snapped to where Tobias was, sitting forwards in the passenger side seat. Uriah and Marlene still stood outside the car, anxious and worried expressions on their faces. Marlene tilted her head, “I asked if you were okay. You seem out of it.”

You don’t even know, Tris thought, but didn’t say out loud. What Eric did to her father? What exactly could he do to her father if the last time her father was alive was when she was eighteen, when Eric would’ve been at least twenty? If what Eric said was true, said in real life and not an imagination, what would he be doing to her?

So many questions floated around in her head.

“Yes,” Tris said, her own voice seeming distant. “Yes, I’m fine.” Her eyes went to Tobias, and she took a shallow breath. “Are you ready to go? Is it to my apartment or your house?”

The worry that filled Tobias’s eyes was the same as the blurred, tiny feeling in Tris’s gut. She knew it was Tobias’s feeling, linked by their small, incomplete bond. “Your apartment,” Tobias said. “I could stay the night, right? And then have someone pick me up tomorrow since you have class--”

“You can get a day’s rest,” Uriah interrupted Tobias with.

“Okay, then my mind isn’t changed.” Tobias turned his head from his chief to Tris. “I’ll hang out with Beau and rest on the couch while you go to class tomorrow. Is that okay?”

Uriah shut the car door as Tris nodded at him. Then, waving with a tilt of his head, Uriah backed away and let Tris start the truck up. She drove out of the parking lot, trying not to think of the words she was sure Eric spoke. Watching from the corner of her eye, Tobias reached to turn on his seat warmer. He leaned back, wincing as he tried to rub his right hand across his face. A quiet, sharp curse left his mouth.

“I’m freezing,” he said.

“Turn on the heat,” Tris responded tapping her thumbs against the wheel at a stop light. “I don’t care.”

Tobias reached for her hand instead, taking it from the wheel and pressing his lips to her palm. His thumb rubbed over her wrist, sending a feeling of vague pleasure he knew would happen through Tris’s gut. A small smirk was across his lips as she looked up, glaring as she tugged her arm away with a, “Don’t.”

Amused, Tobias raised an eyebrow. “What are you going to do about it?”

Tris rolled her eyes, pressing her foot on the gas when the light turned green. From the corner of her eye, she could see the smirk on Tobias’s plump lips. This was the only reason she hated driving with him in the passenger seat; her tattoo being in reach. The smirk dropped when Tobias again moved his injured arm. He pulled away, back straight, shaking his head as he clenched his fist. Any move, it seemed, he did to that arm made him wince and he had done it a few times before Tris questioned it.

“What happened to the vest you're supposed to wear? The knife cut through that also?”

Tobias avoided her eyes every time Tris glanced shortly to him. He didn’t answer until she had said his name, impatience growing. “Tobias.”

“The call was urgent,” he said, voice close to quiet. “I didn’t know anything would happen, and there's only certain days when I have to go out--”

“You didn’t put on your vest.”

Tobias let her answer her own question, silent as she came to the conclusion. His shoulders became stiff, and he seemed to brace himself for something Tris didn’t know.