✧∘ଂ ࿐ ཾ
[ xiii. thirteen ! ]
❛ ɢᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇ ʙʟᴜᴇ sᴋɪᴇs ❜
BREATHING DID NOT COME EASY that night as Tara shuffled and turned in her bed, the ice cold air crawling over her skin as she tried to get the images out of her head. The pictures of him. His blood. Everywhere. She could not rid the image from her mind, however what brought her back to reality was the warm hand that had been placed so gently on her shoulder, as if it had been scared to break her.
As she awoke that morning, Tara immediately went looking for that hand, choosing to ignore her growling stomach. She was determined to get to the bottom of the problem that had been troubling her sleep, to punish the one who was guilty, and hurt them just as much — if not more — as they had hurt (her) Edward. Tara's hands were clenched at her sides as she passed the infirmary, refusing to take a look inside at the wounded boy. She knew he was there and she knew she would break if she caught sight of him again. Instead she continued forward, to a place she knew he would be at this hour.
She found Four in the compound, skin glazed with sweat, knuckles red from hitting the bag, eyes hollow from a loss of sleep. He leaned against the wall, a small white towel hanging from his shoulder as he drank water from a bottle. His face wore a similar expression to hers, twisted in a soft discomfort. He noticed her presence immediately, but refused to give her his attention.
"You there," she initiated, pointing a finger, forcing him to look at her. "We need to talk."
"Tara." We're the first word he spoke as he pushed himself of the wall. His voice sounded as tired as he looked. It took him a few seconds of scanning her face for him to find the words in his throat. "How are you?"
"That doesn't matter," she replied, waving a hand in front of her face. She tried to keep her gaze focused on his eyes as she neared him. But it was all to distracting as he stood there, chest heaving up an down, droplets of sweat trickling down his dampened skin and his shirt clutching to his body. Tara cleared her throat. "We — uhm — we need to get to the bottom of this."
"To what?"
She deadpanned. "What do you think?"
"Well there's a lot of things I can come up with," Four replied. Was that a smile?
Tara placed her hands on either hip, leaning her weight on her left foot. "Well I'm referring to the thing that happened last night, the knife-in-the-eye-incident, if you haven't forgotten already?" Her jaw clenched, infuriated by the unreadable look plastered on his face.
Four took a long drag of air. "And how'd you like to get to the bottom of that?"
"Well for starters; punish the guilty one," she said with a 'duh' tone. "Well maybe the first thing would be to find them... And then kick their asses a little, maybe even take their eye. You know; an eye for an eye, isn't that what you're all about here?"
Four crossed his arms. "It's more complicated than that Tara."
"How?"
"Eric does not want to press any chargers, for starters—"
"What?" Tara raised her voice. "Is he an imbecile or some—"
"Careful." Four cut her off. "That's not the way to speak about your superior, not here where the wall have ears."
Tara took a step forward and pointed a finger at his chest. "I don't give a flying fuck if Eric hears just how much I despise, him. Trust me when I say, he already knows that," she said, and watched as Four's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You just lost your top Initiate, let me repeat that if you're too old to hear me: your top Initiate."
"Now there's a new one at the top," he said. "There's always a few causalities each year. It's expected. Edward happened to be the first one, and there's no need to sulk on it."
She recoiled in shock. "That's all you're gonna say?" Disappointment laced her words. "It's that easy huh? You have someone who is the best, someone who would contribute greatly to the Faction, and yet you don't care if they're hurt or even murdered, because that's not your problem?" She shook her head. "What kind of logic is that? What kind of message does it send that you're fine with us hurting each other to the point where we become Factionless?"
"There's nothing I can do, Tara," Four said. "Listen to what I'm trying to say."
She crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to listen to him. "So basically, If I wanted to, I could go and kill every one in the night which would make me that last one standing, and you wouldn't do shit about it?" She arched a brow. "It's just a few casualties, as you said."
"Don't be an idiot," Four said. "You'd be forced to leave if you killed everyone."
"Exactly!" Her voice was raising again. "So what's the difference. Why are you choosing to ignore this incident?"
"It's not my decision, Tara." Four dragged his hands over his face in frustration. "There's nothing I can do in my position."
That was not the answer she came looking for. "Bullshit!" Tara rushed forward and grabbed the collar of his shirt. With all her strength she pushed him against the wall, fist clenched in the dark fabric, her other hand around his throat, eyes staring deeply into his. She wondered what she would do in a moment like this, where their bodies were pressed against each other, faces only inches apart. There was fire in her eyes, and Four got the whole lot of it. Though he still noticed something beneath her skin, something that she didn't even know she had. It was flickers of her past self, a little girl trying to help her only friend who had been hurt.
For a few seconds he didn't push her away from him, waiting to hear what she had to say. Tara cleared her throat and tried to ignore the shakiness of her hands. "I'm not gonna stand by and watch as nothing happens. I though we were better than that as a Faction," Tara spoke with a voice so low, only the two of them could hear. "Either you, a boy with some actual authority, handle this situation fairly, or I swear to God I'll find my own way to deal with this." Her jaw clenched. "And I won't hesitate to kill each and every one of those fucking idiots if it means I'd eventually kill the one who did this."
Four's eyes were hard as stone. "Death threats don't mean anything here."
"With me they do," she said. An image of Father laying helplessly on the floor passed through her memory, followed by the image of Frederick laying lifelessly on his bed. Both of them wore the same pale expression, pain twisting their features in chock. It was the expression she had put on there.
About one second passed and then her back was pressed against the wall. Four's underarm pressed against her collarbones and his face was so close to hers now that she feared his sweat would drop onto her. "What does this matter to you anyway?" Four raised his eyebrows. "You went up a place in the rankings, you should be happy."
"Well if you haven't figured that out yet. I'm not happy," Tara said through gritted teeth. "It doesn't concern you,"
"It does, when my top Initiates are trying to sabotage themselves for an incident that couldn't have been stopped even if they wanted to." Four's grip tightened slightly. "I'm warning you Tara," his voice became low and serious. "Don't do anything stupid, because then you'll find yourself in a position where even I won't be able to help you."
"I don't need you help," Tara spat, trying to force her way out of his grip, but it was impossible. "Why would you want to help me anyway?"
He stayed silent.
"Tell me, why would you help me and not him?" Tara felt her heart pound quicker in her chest, and couldn't decide if it was out of anger or something else. "What do I have that Edward doesn't?"
His eyes washed over her in the dim light as if he had never seen her before. The softness of her skin that was beautifully structured by a strong jaw and pointy nose. She had a small scar underneath her left eye that he had never noticed before, it wasn't as visible as the one that sliced through her eyebrow. Four couldn't find the words in his throat, partly because he did not know the answer to her question himself. Why did he find her worth saving and not the boy she cared to much for? Was is because he saw so much of his past self in her eyes? Or because he knew that if he hadn't gotten the help that he got as an Initiate, he would have been her by now.
She watched him as he fought with his own mind, seeing the way his eyes twitched, the way his lips pursed and jaw tensed. Tara wished she could know what he was thinking. Their eyes met again, and she realised that he had already made up his mind about answering her. Before she could speak, he had already let go of her and walked off, leaving her pushed against the wall, the feeling of his body pressed to hers still lingering on her skin.
Tara felt tears threatening the lining of her eyes once again as she watched him leave. She pursed her lips and pinched herself for being so weak.
TARA HEARD THAT EDWARD WAS leaving that afternoon. It was Lyra who told her when she found the girl standing over the Chasm, trying to forget the conversation she had with Four that morning.
The short haired girl had been quick to apologise to Tara about the whole Tris incident, and she thought it might have been because the Stiff had made the cut after all. But really it was because she had hated fighting with her, and even though their friendship was messed up, and barely even a friendship, Lyra had grown accustomed to her presence. Tara was not like anyone she had ever known in her life, and there was something so exciting and infuriating about it. Lyra understood that her and Tara would always view the world differently, and once she grew to accept that fact, it was easier to be around her, she even started to enjoy it. And instead of despising the fact that she was so negative and real, she learnt to like the way her words always kept her on her guard. It was a constant reality check, and really, Tara was keeping her in line. Lyra believed she would not have made it into the final ten, in if weren't for her. She had been ranked ninth. And though her words were harsh and sometimes cruel, they made her stronger and more confident than before. Candor had always been a faction of truth, but in Dauntless, life seemed to be surrounded by lies and deception, and that's where Tara came in.
The feelings of friendship wasn't exactly mutual, Tara had a harder time of forgiveness. But in a moment of weakness, of fear of being all alone now that Edward was leaving, she chose to accept her apology. For now at least. Tara was always on her guard, as if waiting for that silver knife to strike her in her back once she turned around. That would never change.
"—Have you even been listening?" The voice cut through her thoughts like a sharp knife.
Tara turned her head and looked at the girl. "No."
"You're so mean sometimes," Lyra scoffed, but a smile was forming on her face. "Do you want me to repeat what I said?"
"No."
"Mmm great." Lyra kicked some rocks on the ground. "I love talking to a wall, I feel like it gives me the company I need."
Tara blinked. "Good for you."
Lyra laughed and turned to face her, a sudden seriousness crossing her features. She fiddled with the bracket around her wrist as she studied the stubborn girl. "I know you're this cold person that doesn't believe in anything except yourself," she began, scanning her face for any reaction. "But you're different with him, you know. With Edward I mean." Lyra paused, swallowing hard. "Do you like... love him?"
Tara pursed her lips and her knuckles turned ghostly white. "I don't."
"You're a bad liar," Lyra said.
"I'm not," she defended, because she knew that when she really needed to lie, she was great at it. "I don't love him, though. At a time in my life I might have believed I did, but it's not like that."
"I think you do, just that you won't admit it to yourself, or him." The short haired girl leaned over the railing of the Chasm, admiring the flowing water below them that splashed against the rocks. "But you have to let the people you love, know that you love them, Tara. Even if it causes you a great deal of pain."
"Why," she looked at the girl. "It sounds awful."
A small smile seemed to form on Lyra's face as she thought about it. "Because you're alive. And he's alive."
Tara blinked. A look of determination found it's way onto her face as she repeated Lyra's words twice in her head. You're alive. He's alive. He could have died, but he's alive. That must mean something. She placed her hand on Lyra's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. Tara could not find the strength in herself to thank the girl audibly, but hoped that the small gesture would be enough to show the little amount of gratitude she had received from the conversation.
She spun on her feet and made her way through the dark corridors of the compound, knowing exactly where he'd be at this hour. He's leaving soon, his bags were packed — that much she had gathered from their conversation. Tara's heart pounded harder in her chest. Not because she was running, but because of excitement and fright. Because of the bag that laid underneath her bed with clothes and necessities that she had packed earlier that day. Because of the boy she once had called home.
Her feet pounded against the tarmac as she ran through the dark hallways of the compound, passing people clad in black that were throwing annoying glanced her way. She didn't care. She turned the corner, dragging her fingers along the wall to keep steady just as she bumped into someone, almost knocking them over. She ignored the pain that shot trough her face as she collided with their shoulder and pushed past them. She had only gotten a feet or two when their voice stopped her.
"Tara!"
She recognised that voice. "Not now, Four."
He gripped her arm, eyes scanning her face. "Where are you going?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Don't do anything stupid," his voice was serious again. "You have that look on your face."
"You should see your own face," Tara replied. "Let go of me, there's something I've gotta do."
It took much strength for him to let go of her sleeve, afraid that she might do something that would get her into trouble, much like they had talked about earlier that same day. Four cleared his throat and let go of her, watching as her body submerged with her darkness as she ran further into the compound. What he missed was that she stopped in that darkness and turned to look at him, a few moments passed as she watched him watch her. Tara swallowed the lump in her throat before continuing her way forward.
She found Edward by the tracks. His bags were placed by his feet, hands pushed far down his pockets as he kicked the rocks on the grounds. His head was bandaged, a small splash of blood already forcing its way through the fresh bandaid. She felt the air in her lungs leave as she saw him, her feet slowing down to a halt.
"Edward." His name sounded foreign in her mouth.
He jumped slightly as he turned to look at her, his hardened features turning soft as he watched Tara come up to him. She had that look in her eyes that he could drown in. "Tara, I—" Edward's words got stuck in his throat, fearing that tears were threatening his eye. He took a deep breath. "I'm leaving, you know..."
"I know." She looked at the ground, chewing her bottom lip. This can not be happening. "They're kicking you out."
"Yeah..." His arms fidgeted over his body, eye stinging with pain as he imagined a tear slipping out beneath the bandage. He wanted to wrap his arms around her so badly it itched. Hug her for one last time. "They said I couldn't continue because of my... yeah."
She stood there for a while, looking at him helplessly. She wanted to scream, to claw at him — at the world. This cruel world that would take him away from her, because she couldn't protect him. Tara knew she didn't need to protect him, but she blamed herself. His bed is closest to yours, Four had said. And he was right, she should have heard something, seen anything. She had never been a heavy sleeper, so why had she slept so heavily that night? His eye met hers and she became liquid, falling to the ground in a splatter of emotions, creating a pool of her existence.
Is it really my fault? She asked herself. Yes, Father's voice answered. It's always your fault, said Mother. And then she heard a laugh which she knew was Frederick's. Tara pursed her lips, shaking her head.
He took his hand out of his pockets, looking at her with an unexplainable expression. "Can I?"
"Can you what?"
"Can I hug—" Edward scratched the back of his neck, already knowing the rejection she would give him. "Can I give you a hug?"
Her gaze left his foot and she looked him straight in the eye. The single eye. Something hit her from behind; recognition; pain; nostalgia; pain. It's was still Edward. The same Edward she had been with all those years ago. The same Edward who had given her his lunch that first day. The same Edward that had kept her alive through those rough years. With a small nod to her head she sniffled a cry. "Yeah... Yeah, of course." How could I ever say no to you?
She was just tall enough to see over his shoulder, her nose pressed against him as she inhaled the familiar scent of him. Of Edward. Sandalwood and sweet mint. His arms enclosed around her frame, his face hiding in the crook of her neck as he took a deep breath. She felt him shiver against her, and couldn't tell if it was the cold winds or because he was crying. They stayed like that for a while, longer than intended but Tara did not want to let go. Seconds turned into minutes, and Tara wished those minutes would turn into a lifetime.
"Can I ask you something," his muffled voice said. She nodded and clenched the fabric of his shirt. "Do you ever think—"
"Edward, I got my things, are you ready to go?" A female voice interrupted. Tara's eyes shot open and over his shoulder she could see Myra standing a few feet away, two backpacks in each hand. There was a look on her face that she couldn't quite put her finger to.
Tara took a step back, the cold air prickling over her skin, cooling the warmth his body had given. Words got stuck in her throat as she realised what was happening. "Wait a minute... She's—" her mouth stayed open. "You're going with her?"
Edward spun around quickly, meeting the confused gaze of Myra before he faced his old friend again. "Yeah, she didn't make the cu—"
"What about those things you said before," Tara couldn't get her mind around things she turned away from him for a moment, chewing her nail. "What about the end of the world things? Was all that just bullshit to you?"
"Chantara," Edward began, sighing, "That was years ago."
"Yeah, but I thought it mattered." She closed her eyes. "But why her?" She swallowed the tears threatening her as she pointed an accusing finger at the other girl. "Why Myra, of all the people... I though I—" she didn't allow herself to finish her sentence.
"Chantara, you know if I had to pick anyone in the world to be with me when things got bad," he said, emotions welling up in his throat. It felt weird to only be able to look him in one eye, she thought. "I'd pick you."
Tara felt her tears brim the lining of her eyes. "Obviously not," she whispered, motioning for the thin girl standing a few feet away from them. "I just need to know... Why didn't you ask me? I thought we were partners in crime. Why didn't you ask me to come, Edward? You knew I would."
"Because I don't know you!" he yelled, voice wavering. He stood taller for a second, nodding his head slowly. Tara stopped breathing. "You're a complete stranger to me sometimes, or at least that's what you treat me like. What did you think Chantara? That I'd ask you to come with me and then we'd get close and live happily ever after?" He started to pace. "No, you'd just push me away again. Just like you did last time. And I... I can't go through that again. I won't."
"That's not fair." She paused, her lower lip trembled. "You don't understand."
"No, Chantara, I don't understand." He brushed through his blonde hair, forcing himself not to meet her eyes. "Help me understand. Who are you? What is this facade you've built up. Where is the girl I fell in love with all those years ago."
She tried not to let his words affect her, she tried to not fall to the ground as she struggled to keep her expressions still. She had never heard those words come from his lips, it felt almost... strange. Tara shook her head. "She died."
"Why."
"How the fuck should I know, I wasn't the one who murdered her." She was yelling now. Tara couldn't tell if she was blaming herself or Father. "You didn't answer my question, why didn't ask me? Did you even consider asking me?"
"Because I want Chantara, not this act of a human I've been putting up with. I want the Chantara I know you still have somewhere in there," Edward sighed, pointing a finger at her heart. "I will have you without your armor, or I will not have you at all."
She felt her throat tighten as his words registered in her mind. "What you see is what you get."
"Then I don't want it."
She couldn't stop the tear that was already spilling down her cheek.
"Chantara—"
"—Don't."
"That's not what I—"
She pushed past him, not wanting to hear another word come from his mouth. "Goodbye Ed," she said monotonously, not wanting him to see more tears spilling down her cheeks. His old nickname slipped out of her mouth, unbeknownst to her, and it felt like a knife to the heart, a wave of nostalgia washing over him. Like alcohol on an open wound. She felt him shift behind her and quickened her pace. Her eyes met Myra's as she passed her and she had already punched her before her mind had time to register what had happened. The skinny girl fell to the ground and clutched her face, and Tara ran away from her. From them both.
And there it was again. The gaining and the losing. For once she allowed herself to ignore her priorities, to invite him into her life again, as a friend. And just when she had him within her grasp, he was lost again.
What Edward failed to realize was that if he had asked Tara to go with him, she would have dropped everything and done so. It would be the easiest decision she would have ever made. Because when they were younger, she had said to him that she would follow him to the end of the world, and he said he wouldn't want anyone else to go with him. And Tara was the kind of person who stuck with what she said, with promises she made. But being as stubborn as she was, she wouldn't go without being asked. And what she failed to realize, was that Edward never understood just how much she actually cared about him.
✧∘ଂ ࿐ ཾ
[ xiii. ali's note ! ]
I hope u brought tissues, cause i'm weeping
well look who finally updated! me!
I want to thank each and everyone of you for your patience, and also apologize for the long wait. As i have written on my board, I'm away doing 11 months of military training, so i don't have much time to write, which is why this book had been under a HIATUS. I finally finished this chapter over Christmas break after months of writing, and i hope it wasn't a HUGE disappointment. It was hard for me to write
I have not forgotten about this book. i have not forgotten about Tara. I DO intend to finish this book, but you guys will have to be patient with me
thank you for continuing to read it and for the enormous amount of love you all have shown. thank you. i love you all so so so much <3