Fractured | Tobias Eaton ✓

38 | Come From Abnegation

Four's bed is neatly made just as before. That same smell of vanilla hits me despite my stuffy nose. I can feel my nose slowly becoming less plugged with each passing second. "I'm just gonna..." I sit on the edge of the bed–suddenly feeling very awkward.

I have about a million questions for him.

#1: Why did you bring me here?
#2: How come you're so kind in private?
#3: Is it weird that I want to kiss you because you're my 'teacher'? (the air quotes are a must)

I want to kiss him? I ask myself, finding it hard to believe. I've never wanted to kiss anybody before. Not like with him. It's different with him. There's no innocence about it, my ignorance might be mistaken for such but it's not. I know what I want. I'm just not sure when these feelings became so strong.

"Make yourself at home. I know it's not much but it's more private than the dorms so..." It seems he feels how awkward I've suddenly become.

Four goes into the bathroom and I sigh, being alone in his apartment feels much... different. When Tris was in here–I was focused on her and what she needed. Now I can give the space a proper look. I stand and walk into the kitchen, it looks like it's never been used.

But there's a noticeable lack of dust on every surface. Abnegation levels of cleanliness. My brain reminds me and I shake my head at the thought. Four doesn't seem like he could ever come from Abnegation. Especially not knowing what I do now.

"I wasn't so lucky in the parent department–not like you were."

What does that even mean? I ponder this as I wander around his apartment. There's a shelf fixed to the wall, it is also incredibly empty. There's nothing on the bottom few rows but toward the top, I notice there's a row of small thick books. Weird thing to see in the apartment of a Dauntless.

I'm careful as I run my fingers along the spines of books. Their covers feel like canvas and the pages appear to be yellowed. I don't read their titles, moving on to look out the large window on the furthermost wall.

The moon is settled high into the sky–only a sliver of light beaming down. It's much darker than the night I rode down the Hancock Building. The memory of sliding down that cable is fresh in my mind. It makes my anxiety shoot up.

I'm so tired of being anxious. I just want to have a single day between all of these simulations to calm down. It feels like I've been in a constant state of anxiety for two whole weeks. It's exhausting. I'm exhausted.

Somehow I end up on his bed. I've been barefoot this entire time and I only just now noticed how cold my feet are. They were freezing before but now, I can hardly feel them. I fold my legs and sit on my feet as best as I can–warming them up as I wait to use the bathroom.

"Are you cold?" His voice stirs me from my terrible half-sleep state.

I lift my head, squinting my eyes against the light spilling out of the bathroom behind him. He looks like some rendition of an angel. I can't see his face or any noticeable features, just his frame. I feel the way my brain short circuits–trying to figure out what I'm looking at. "Huh?"

"Are you cold?" OH! I nod slowly, still a bit confused.

"Just my feet, I just have to go to the bathroom." Four lets me by as I lock myself inside. My eyes take their time adjusting to the harsh light as I use the bathroom and wash my face with the hand soap. I rinse my mouth out about five times–missing my toothbrush.

When I exit the bathroom, I see his couch apparently... has a bed hidden inside it? I haven't seen a pull-out couch in forever. "Where'd you find that thing?" I ask.