─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── Chapter Seven "The Secret We Share" ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
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THE tattoo parlour buzzed with energy, the thumping beat of hip-hop music setting the rhythm of the Dauntless heart. Rae and Christina led the way, with Will joining them at the front, their conversation blending with the music. Liv, Al, Tris, and I trailed behind, taking in the scene as we entered.
The place felt like a mini-nightclub, with its dim lighting, colourful neon signs, and Dauntless members showing off their ink. People covered head to toe in tattoos walked around, some chatting, others focused on their new designs.
As we caught up with Rae, Christina, and Will, I overheard their conversation. "Didn't know they had a tattoo of your face?" Will teased Christina, earning a playful shove from her. A smile crept onto my face as I watched them, sensing the beginning of something between them.
It was then I noticed more tattoo designs on display, and excused myself to wander over to another stall. Displays of intricate tattoos surrounded me, each more captivating than the last. My eyes landed on a particular design, a snake that seemed to entwine perfectly with a person's collarbones. I stood still, mesmerised by its elegance.
"I like that one," a voice said from behind, making me jump. I turned to see Peter standing there, his usual smirk firmly in place.
"What are you doing here, Peter?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite the sudden rush of annoyance and something else I couldn't quite identify.
"Same as you, I suppose. Looking for a bit of ink," he replied, stepping closer to examine the snake tattoo. "Thinking about getting this one?"
I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Maybe. I haven't decided yet."
Peter's eyes gleamed with amusement. "It's a bold choice. Suits you."
I rolled my eyes, turning back to the display. "And what about you? What kind of tattoo would suit someone like you?"
He chuckled, a sound that was surprisingly genuine. "Something equally bold, I suppose. Maybe a lion or a dragon."
"Predictable," I muttered, but I couldn't help the small smile that tugged at my lips.
Peter leaned closer next to my ear, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Predictable can be good, Wren. It's steady, reliable."
I turned and met his gaze, our faces now inches apart, and my heart unexpectedly skipping a beat. For a moment, the usual annoyance between us seemed to melt away, replaced by a strange, tense curiosity. But just as quickly, I pulled back, breaking the spell.
"Well, good luck with your predictable tattoo, Peter," I said, stepping away.
As I moved back towards my friends, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Peter than met the eye. But now wasn't the time to dwell on that. We were here to get tattoos, not think about Peter Hayes.
