"You better shut up or I swear I'll -" 

"Go ahead, kill me" I cut him off, taunting him. I felt like I was going insane. In my right mind I would never have said that. But this was different. "You've killed hundreds of others, so it shouldn't be hard at all for you to kill me" I finished, the sarcasm still blessing the tone of my voice with its presence. 

He stepped forward, bringing the gun along with him. 

And then, almost instantly, I kicked the gun out of his hands. It landed on the tiled floor and slid out of the kitchen doorway and into the lounge room. I was in survival mode and I felt provoked.  

Eric ran for the gun in the lounge room and I chased after him. Do not let him get his hands on it! I told myself. So as he bent over to pick the gun up I kicked it further away, slipping my legs through his. He turned around, rage filling his eyes. He was beyond furious. 

He stood above me as I cowered. But I wouldn't let myself lose this fight. So I slid away from him as I stood and ran deeper into the lounge room. He followed after me, reaching for me with his outstretched, calloused hands. But I was too quick. He may be stronger than me but I was much quicker. 

We stood facing each other now, arms raised, the centre of the room acting like a fighting ring for us. He threw the first punch but I stepped away, to the side of him. I quickly placed my hands over his bent back as I drove my knee into his stomach a few times. After doing so I became afraid, so I stepped back, questioning what I had done. He turned toward me glaring. As if he was saying 'How dare you!'. He then made his way straight toward me, pushing me into a wall, then placing a hand around my throat and holding me up against it. I tried to scratch at his face or push him away but it was useless. Then I thought back to my fear simulation... My fear of being raped. I had kicked the guy in the crotch and he had fallen in pain. So that's what I did to Eric. 

Right now the both of us were angry and we didn't care what we did to the other. This was the Dauntless way of resolving issues. 

He groaned in pain, the hand holding my neck racing to grab where I had kicked him. Instead of running away though, I lunged at his bent over figure, pushing him to the ground and sitting atop of him. Causing him to yell out in pain and anger. I was beating him. But it wouldn't be like that for long. He raised his elbow and knocked me in the face, causing me to fall off of him to his side. He then jumped up swiftly and pulled me up to my feet forcefully, holding onto my jacket. I could tell he was going to go for another punch so I guarded my face with my arms but he tricked me, punching me in the stomach. In doing this, I fell from the impact. I was on the ground again and he was on top of me this time. But before he could pin my arms down anywhere I punched him in the face. His head turned to the side and I saw him spit something out of his mouth... Blood. Then he turned back to me and slapped me right across my face, causing me to yelp in extreme pain. 

I then reached for his throat, wrapping my hands around as much of it as I could, then using all my might to flip us around. 

I was on top again. But I needed to get off of him, otherwise he would simply turn us back around. 

So I stood up and jumped off of him, falling almost immediately... He had grabbed my foot, making me fall flat on my face. "Owwwww" I quietly screeched as I touched my face with my hand, inspecting my injuries quickly. I seemed to have a cut lip and my cheeks felt swollen. He twisted me around so I was on my back and looked me in the eyes for a split second before looking up as if he had had an idea. I pictured a small, shining lightbulb above his head. But I knew what he was thinking was not necessarily going to be a 'good' idea. 

He stood up and quickly made his way around the couch, bending down to pick something up. At first, I wondered what he was doing, not getting up to pursue him. Then, he picked up the gun. My heart leapt, beating faster than it was before. Was he going to kill me this time? Had what I said not even touched him in the slightest? He spun around slowly, raising the gun to point it at me. 

I was still on the ground, tears running down my face now, mixing with the blood from my cut lip. 

"You know what..." I began, feeling hopeless. "Just do it". Was I giving up? No. I was just hoping he would have a change in heart. 

He stared at me. Hands shaking a little. 

"If you even have to think once about killing me then you obviously don't love me enough" I continued, slumped on the ground, looking up at him through my teary eyes. "Just do it!

Then... 

A tear slipped out of his eye. And I couldn't help but think that that tear was the first tear of his I had ever seen. And what's more... He wasn't wiping it away. Not in shame or embarrassment. He just let it run down his cheek, then down to his chin, slipping beneath his chin and onto his neck. I looked at him in some sort of awe. 

No other tears left his eyes. Which made that one, single tear that fell, prized. 

Next, he unloaded the gun clumsily and dropped it on the ground near his feet.  

He had taken me by surprise and he knew it. 

"I never thought I had to tell you..." he begun sorrowfully. "I never thought I needed to tell you that I love you. I thought you were big enough to know for yourself" he finished quietly. He was disappointed. 

He walked past me, not looking at me at all and walked out of the apartment. Leaving me in a cold and icy atmosphere that I loathed and despised

I couldn't tell whether I was angry anymore. But I knew I was hurt. I was hurt because I had hurt his feelings, I had taken it too far. I had rattled the cage of the beast and he had broken out. 

He didn't kill me though. I thought to myself. 

But I had no time to be happy or joyful, when I felt so alone... 


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