𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 a girl who has only ever known a life of peace finds herself at the heart of a revolution, thrusting her into a world of death and destruction. when all that had once made sense suddenly falls apart before her very eyes, she is force...
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"TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH."
I turn my head to get a better look at Trixie, whose own eyes are still focused on tattooing me. Despite the fact that she isn't looking my way, I flash her a guilty smile anyway. "I'm sorry, alright? I meant to come in sooner but initiation sort of preoccupied my mind."
Trixie lets out a long huff, but I can tell it's in good nature. "When you and Peter didn't return, I thought for sure you guys had been kicked out or something," she says, pausing to stick her tongue out of her mouth as she concentrates on the linework of my tattoo. I'm amazed that she's even capable of holding up a conversation — I know I definitely wouldn't trust myself to multitask while doing something so permanent as this on another person.
"Maybe me, but I don't think Peter could get kicked out even if he wanted to," I reply sarcastically, though there is some truth behind my words. That much is evident by the conversation we had with Eric and Max a week ago.
"I sense some jealousy," Trixie says, glancing up at me. "You guys break up?"
I have to physically stop myself from letting out a long and dramatic groan, mostly because I don't want to risk moving and messing up my tattoo. "We were never together, Trixie," I tell her seriously. "Peter just likes playing games."
"Oh," she says, but a slow smirk has made its way onto her lips. "Could've fooled me."
I feel my face begin to flush, and Trixie's laugh only makes my cheeks grow warmer.
"Relax, kid," she says between chuckles. "You're so tense, you need to learn to let loose."
If only she knew the truth of just how tense my life has been lately. I wonder how Trixie would react if she found out how much had happened to me since she last saw my face in this tattoo shop — she isn't cruel or hardened like a lot of the other Dauntless, but I get the sense that she's a bit naive to what her faction has become. There's a clear difference between the fun-loving, reckless Dauntless of her generation versus the cold, soldier-like Dauntless of mine.
"How about you make me a promise," she continues. "Once your initiation is over, you come find me and I'll make sure you have some real fun. Loosen you up a little."
"I'm afraid to ask what 'real fun' looks like to the Dauntless," I reply teasingly.
"It's better if you don't ask." She laughs.
I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. I haven't thought much on what will happen once initiation is over — that is, I haven't allowed myself to — but today is the last day I will be able to call myself an initiate. Tomorrow, life will be so much different.
