I've never heard myself scream as loud as I did when I stepped out the shower, Eric leaning against the door.
I had been the only one in the Accommodation, and I had made use of the time, showering by myself. I had took note of being by myself, so I had made no effort to grab my towel.
Now... I was regretting that decision immensely. I narrow my eyes, darting behind the stall door.
I slowly move my head to look at him, my arms covering my breasts.
"God!" I exclaim, grunting in anger. I don't know if I should cover my breasts or my lower regions, but the door does me some justice.
"Have you not heard of knocking?" I ask, pursing my lips.
Eric smirks, amused, giving a soft chuckle. "I did, Kitten. Maybe you didn't hear it over the shower water. And by the way," He says, gesturing to my navel. "Nice piercing."
My face heats up, as I shift slightly, still trying to cover myself up. But my arms begin to ache, and I let them fall to my side.
"Get dressed." He orders. "I've got something for you to do."
At first, I part my lips to give him a smart remark, but I remember that I was already waist deep in trouble.
"Okay." I reply, slowly moving from.behind the door, until every inch of my skin can be seen. I slip from behind the door, and sprint, shivering as I go to my bed, moving past him.
I grab my bra and latch it, before pulling a sweater over my head. I let it fall, as it covers my bare hips. I sit on the bed, slipping on a pair of underwear and jeans.
I huff lowly under my breath, lacing my boots up before looking over to Eric, as he gestures for me to follow him.
I tuck my hair in a ponytail as I follow him down the hall, before we go up three flights of stairs.
I glance around, a funny feeling in my chest. I move slower, feeling highly cautious. I didn't know the things Eric had done or would do, but I knew he was nothing to play with.
He reminded me of fire, to be completely honest.
We stop outside a door, and he plucks a pair of keys out his pocket,,before unlocking the door.
I begin to bite on my lip anxiously, thinking that I should've just stayed with the others. But I didn't want to be afraid of Eric.
I had no reason to be. I was Dauntless and brave.
But I wasn't fearless.
I walk inside after Eric, and he shuts the door behind me. I shove my hands in my pockets, chewing slowly on the skin of my lip.
"What did you need me to do?" I ask curiously.
"You sound like an Erudite," Eric replies, before he walks towards his kitchen, a wall with two stairs leading towards the kitchen with an island in the center, separating it from his living room.
All-in-all, the apartment was beautiful, but it looked a little underused. I was starting to wonder how often was Eric really was by himself.
If he was as busy as my father seemed to always be, then him being at home was a rare occasion.
"Takes one to know," I tell him, before I blush heatedly, feeling something that reminds me of my mother's look of disapproval. Before he can raise a brow in question, or to even reply with a snarl of an answer, I correct myself. "My mother was one. Before she transferred."
I feel like I shouldn't have had to explain myself, but in order to control his wrath, it was probably for the best that I did. He doesn't say anything, or continue to question about my mentioning of my mother, but I can tell he is obviously thinking heavily about something.
I begin to shift from side to side, before I finally bring myself to ask why he wants me here, in his apartment. I was beginning to wonder if there was actually something here for me to do, or was he just that lonely, with no friends and needed someone to talk to.
And if it was the former, how many people had he struck fear into to keep them away from him?
And why?
He gives me a look before he asks, "Do you want something before you get started?"
"Me?" I ask, clearly confused.
"Yes, you. By yourself." He deadpans, and I swear, I see his brow twitch slightly.
"You trust me, in your apartment, to be by myself?" I quirk a brow, but he probably knew I would do everything he said, just because of how close he was to my father.
"It's not like you'll do anything." Eric retorts, before he looks at me. "Have you ever sorted paperwork?"
"Once." I say dryly, before continuing. "With my dad."
"Good." He comes back from the kitchen completely, placing a small stack of labeled folders on one side of his coffee table, and an equally large stack of papers on the other side. "All you have to do is put papers that match the subject of the label on the folder in said folder. You do that until every document is placed in its proper folder."
"Where are you going?" I ask, wondering why he was leaving me alone.
"I have a meeting." He says, just as dryly as I had once replied to his question.
"How long is it going to take?"
"As long as it needs to." He pulls on his jacket, before he walks to the door, leaving me standing in the center of the living room. "Help yourself to a drink or whatever. If you do that type of thing. I'll be back when I can, Lian." Then he pulls open the door, and walks out, shutting it behind him.
I note the fact he called me Lian, and cherish it, instead of what he called the others, which was Initiate. I sit down on his couch, grabbing the first folder, which was tabbed with the title in neat script, Initiate Records.
I begin to look for papers that fell under that category. Ten minutes into my task and one folder out of six others done, the silence becomes deafening and begins to bother me extremely.
I stand to my feet, a document in my clutch, before I begin to walk around his apartment, boots padding on the floor. I look at my pale cocoa colored skin in the mirror, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ears.
I look to my left, and I see a cherry wood bookshelf, covered in books, and on the very top shelf is a stereo. I grab the remote, and cut it on, turning the volume to low. I needed the noise.
As I put the remote down, I turn to see a row of two picture frames, and one-by-one, I pick them up to hold them rather gently in my grasp.
The first is of a young man, a girl who was no older than six or seven, a man, and a woman, dressed and clad in blue. The woman has dark blonde hair, and the little girl, has brown hair, matching the man. The young man has dark blonde hair like the woman, with piercing stone grey eyes. I blink, but it soon dawns on me that the young man was Eric.
It was him, before he came to Dauntless, his skin lacking piercings or the ink stains of the tattoos. The other people must be his family, for in the second picture, is Eric holding the same little girl, who I figure, must be his younger sister.
The third picture is of Eric, clad in black and the beginning signs of his Dauntless change marring his skin. The same little girl is there, hugging his neck, as she wears a blue dress.
It is the first time I see Eric smile, genuinely, his eyes bright and twinkling. He holds her tightly, arms wrapped around her small, delicate waist. He kisses the crown of her head, and her eyes are bright, twinkling in youthful happiness.
It was so surprising to see him this way, to see him compassionate, that it was hard to believe that hewas the same man.
I place the picture back in its spot, before sitting back on the couch to finish the shrinking stack of paperwork.
______________
I am putting the last document into its rightful folder when I hear the knob turn.
Fearing the worse, I jump to my feet and cut the stereo off, before running to put my body back on the couch.
I didn't want to give him another reason to be pissed at me.
He comes in through the door, shutting it behind him. He studies the work I've done, before nodding.
"Good." He tells me.
I rub my arm, before looking at him. Pointing to the pictures, I sigh, before asking, "Who are those people?"
Maybe I shouldn't have, though, considering he already appeared stressed.
His features curve into an aggressive expression, his body language reading that he was closed off to any conversation.
"Get out." He orders, growling.
"What?" I question, confused. "I just asked a question."
"Well, you asked the wrong one. Now, out." He growls again, through gritted teeth.
"How did you know about my.mother?" I ask him, as I walk to the door, demanding to know the answer.
"It's not hard to find a file in the Archive, Lian. Everyone in Dauntless has one." Eric replies, sounding cryptic.
He follows me to the door, and as I walk out, turning to ask another question, he slams the door in my face as soon as I am out.
Instead of feeling satisfied at having an answer, I only felt that much more confused.
Why would he want to know my file? What did he really need to know?