Apples {A Divergent Series Fanfiction}

Chapter 15

Taura's POV

My back slid down the stone wall excruciatingly slow. I'm drunk. I'm high. Yet I'm sober. Everything was crystal clear, there was no drunk haze distracting me from reality and the complications of my life.

I feel numb.

2am. Everyone is probably on a manhunt for me right, orchestrated by Raul or Peter. I don't want them to find me. I don't want anyone to. What I need to do is process everything that happened yesterday. My encounter with my father and... last night, which I don't wish to think about, but some memories refuse to leave. Sam is like ink; once he leaves his marks, they never leave no matter how much ice you put on them. I know this from experience, he's just like the other men, they have no other motivation then to watch you squirm under their presence. So, you try not to squirm and act like an adult, but they still manage to worm they're way in. You just have to sit and wait, dreading your next encounter, knowing it lies just around the corner.

A single tear hit the back of my hand and that's the first time I notice the thousands of other tears falling from my bruised eyes. My whole face was black and blue and the wound on my lip was dripping blood (again) down my chin and neck. There were scratch marks all up my arms and legs, some even going deeper than the skin. My thighs were bright red, with small green bruises appearing in some places, they were so sore. My clothes were torn, one sleeve to my shirt was completely ripped off and there were several holes dotted about. What have I done?

"Hey." A voice echoed down the corridor. I turn my head slightly to see Eric walking towards me. Oh no. "Taura? What on earth are you doing down here at this hour?"

"Just leave me alone."

"I need to- my god!" He gasped, and for once I see an emotion on his face. It was shock. His entire body went stiff. I must look worse than I thought.

"It's bad isn't it?" I say.

"Bad is a fucking understatement, what the hell have you been doing?"

"Everything I could." I whisper, running my hands over the scratches.

I look up at Eric and see him gulp before sticking a hand out towards me.

"Peters been looking for you." He can't find me.

"I'm not going to him yet, he can't see me like this Eric. He will freak out."

"No shit Sherlock, I almost had a heart attack!" Yeah right.

"Stop acting like you care. We already had this conversation."

"I may strongly dislike you, but not enough to leave you out here looking like this." I eye him suspiciously. "Come on; your clearly drunk, tired and frightened. Let's get you a coffee and you can sleep on my couch. I'll tell Peter where you are." I shouldn't trust him. I shouldn't trust anyone right now. But I feel I have no choice. I take his hand, my own tremoring rapidly. He grips it firmly and helps me onto my feet. I feel like I can barely walk, my legs almost completely numb. Eric's hand let's go of mine and I struggle to find my balance, falling back against the wall. I feel Eric's hand quickly go to my waist, hiking me back up and against him. My body instantly rejects it, pushing him off me, sending me back against the wall.

"D-don't... just let me walk." I tell him.

"And you can manage that?" He gives me a pointed look.

"Yes." He looks at me for a while, with his pierced brow raised.

"Mmm no you can't. Just let me carry you, okay or it will be 2pm before we get anywhere near my apartment." I guess I have no choice in this, so I throw my hands to the side in defeat and Eric swiftly lifts me up with ease and began to walk down the hallway.