Complicated Love (Divergent Peter Fanfic)

Training Starts

AU

Hey guys, so i decided to update earlier than I wanted so consider this a treat. I won't updating for a while because I'm close to my end of the year exams and I plan on getting an average of 90% or higher. Feel free to leave comments and votes, you all know that I appreciate them. So I hope you like this chapter!

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The next morning, I felt a hand on my thigh and I jerked awake, slapping the hand away. I soon realized that it was only Peter, who was looking at me with a questioning look.

"Sorry, thought you were someone else." I told him, putting a lock of hair behind my ear.

"It's okay," he said and leaned in to whisper, "And just so you know, I wouldn't let anyone touch you." A smile started to form on my face as I put my arms on the railing of the bed and leaned in to kiss Peter. He kissed me back without resisting.

When I pulled away, he put his hand on the back of my head, bringing my face closer to his, and kissed me again, which caused me to giggle.

"What," I said between kisses, "time is it?"

"It's 7:45." he replied, kissing me again. It didn’t last long since I pulled back instantly.

"What? Peter, you said you'd wake me up at seven so I could eat!" I jumped off my bed and went to the drawer containing a pair of black pants and shirt. After making sure no one was there excluding Peter, I took off my shirt and put on the black one instead, doing the same with my pants, not bothering changing my undergarments right now. All the while, Peter was looking at me, his green eyes taking me all in while I changed and tied up my brown, messy hair.

"You know, I brought you a chocolate muffin so you could eat it while going to training." he said, taking out a muffin from behind his back. I glared at him, but took the muffin from him anyways. He laughed as he got up, took my hand and we both left the room, me eating my muffin and him leading the way to training. We both arrived into the room after everyone but we weren't late. I had finished my muffin, but I was very tired, my whole body protesting to every movement I did.

Four was there and he was handing everyone a gun. "The first thing you will learn today is how to fire a gun. The second thing is how to win a fight. Thankfully, if you are here, you already know how to get on and off a moving train, so I don't need to teach you that." He told all of us, and handed me a gun. When I looked down at it, I remembered stealing one from my dad one day and going to the park to practice how to shoot. This part of initiation would be easy. "Initiation is divided in three stages. We will measure your progress and rank you according to your performance in each stage. The stages are not weighed equally in determining your final rank, so it is possible, though difficult, to drastically improve your rank over time.” That’s when he stopped handing out the guns and looked at all of us. "We believe that preparation eradicates cowardice, which we define as the failure to act in the midst of fear. Therefore each stage of initiation is intended to prepare you in a different way. The first stage is primarily physical; the second, primarily emotional; the third, primarily mental." he finished.

"But what..." Peter started, yawned, and continued, "What does firing a gun have to do with...bravery?" I looked from Peter, to Four and my breath stopped in my throat. Four had flipped the gun in his hand and pressed the barrel to Peter's forehead as he clicked the bullet in place. My hand instantly went in his, and squeezed and he did the same. Four looked down at our joined hands for half a second before looking at Peter again, who had stopped to yawn in the process.

"Wake. Up," Four told him. I wanted to put my bullet in place and put the barrel to his head, but I knew that it wouldn't be a good idea at all. "You are holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it." Once the gun was away from his head, I saw that Peter’s beautiful eyes had hardened and his cheeks turned red. I rubbed slow circles on his hand, trying to calm him without saying anything. He gave me a quick glance and smiled at me, before turning back to the person who had just put a gun to his head. "And to answer your question...you are far less likely to soil your pants and cry for your mother if you're prepared to defend yourself." He stopped walking at the end of the row.