Her once true love defects to Dauntless, abandoning her.
Penelope finds herself lonesome two years later. She has everything she could ask for, but nothing is fulfilling. That's until she comes across Charlie again. Old feelings are lost but somethi...
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"Eric? What are you thinking about? Tell me."
Silence—that was his answer.
I laid my head against his back, my hands trailing under his arms and over his chest. I ran my fingers over the thin layer of chest hair, sensing his heavy breathing. Maybe I was pushing him, pressuring him on giving me an answer. How was one supposed to overlook a bleeding hand?
"You're not telling me something," I murmured softly.
Eric tensed for the hundredth time, sighing, clearly irritated with me.
"And you never tell me anything. You're always telling me some bullshit lie. What's the difference here?"
I cringed from his harsh tone, retreating away from him. His body heat abandoned me, leaving me strangely pained.
"Well, I'm. .sorry I worry about you," I whispered, my feet taking me further from him.
His head snapped up, while his eyes fixated themselves on me through the mirror. The glimmer in his eyes told me he regretted saying that, but I couldn't care less about his words. I just wanted to go back to bed, like he ordered in the first place. But my feet wouldn't take me there, no. They just backed away, while I stared back at Eric.
His hand clearly had something to do with Charlie, along with the other one. I hadn't yet seen it, but if one was injured, then the other had to be injured, too. What he had done was something yet to be revealed. And by the looks of it, it wouldn't be revealed any time soon. Or ever.
"Penny, I didn't mean—"
I raised my hand, indicating that he stop. When he did, I was surprised. Eric wasn't one to do what others asked, nonetheless me. Either he was just completely off, or he was genuinely doing as I asked, because that just wasn't him.
"It's clear to me that you won't give it up," I sighed, momentarily closing my eyes then opening them. "I just hope that whatever you did to him, didn't get him killed."
Eric's eyebrows furrowed, his eyes no longer telling me what he was possibly feeling. He pushed himself off the marble sink, slowly turning around to face me. The instant he faced me, I regretted saying what I said. Old Eric was back, the one that didn't appreciate me standing up to him. He sent a deadly death glare my way, reminding me of our old ways. That was the same death glare he gave me when we first became engaged. Back then, our engagement was the reason for that glare, but now, my defensiveness towards Charlie was the cause.
"So what if I fucking killed him?" he demanded, his voice starting to rise.
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. That was a dead end, something I couldn't get out of. I had personally dug myself into a hole, one I was stuck in at my own hands. But I felt like I had said nothing wrong. Nothing along the lines of 'I'm worried about Charlie' came out of my mouth. Yeah, I was worried, but not because I cared about him. My worries were more towards Eric possibly getting in trouble, even if he said he ran no such risk, rather than Charlie.
