Emergent

Chapter Seventeen

Hey guys! So I'm finally completing the promised updates. Hope to make up for the wait!! Here is a filler chapter (that you'll need to read actually). Enjoy!

"Hey-stop that!" I exclaim as my surroundings suddenly go white, flour going nearly everywhere in the kitchen. I take a handful of flower myself and throw it onto him, his face turning ghostly.

"Hey! If I can't do it neither can you!" Tobias cries. I catch a glimpse of a smirk before he takes the entire bowl and dumps it over my head.

I choke, my eyes glued shut and my fists clenched. "You...did not...just." I start as I try to inhale air that doesn't include powder. I slowly open my eyes, finding him to be very amused.

"Why yes, I did, just." He answers, wiping his hands with pride. He begins to laugh at the sight of me.

"Laugh while you still can, big guy." I reply darkly before beginning to run towards him.

"Oh sh-" Tobias darts out of the kitchen into the living room, me right after him.

He escapes me a few times, but I take a jump onto the couch and then onto his back, knocking him to the floor in hysterical laughter.

"When did making cookies become so violent?" Tobias asks as he turns onto his back, taking my hands in his and gently wrestling me.

I giggle. "I'm not sure. But I must say, you look good in white." I tell him as I plant a kiss to his powdery cheek.

"As do you, my dear. Very good in white..." He drifts off as if losing himself in a vision. He smiles a little, his eyes gazing around a bit before meeting mine again. He clears his throat and sits up, placing me on his lap.

"Tris, would you ever want to get, um, get married?" he asks bashfully.

I think for a minute. I mean, when I think about the future, I see him there, every step of the way. But I had never thought of a title, really. I never thought of walking down the aisle in a white gown. I never thought of changing my name to Eaton, or really anything along those lines.

"I don't know." I answer. "I mean-I never really thought about it before. Do you?" I ask him, wondering why he asked, hoping I didn't ruin anything.

He thought for a moment before responding. "I, um, well...yeah. I guess I do." he muttered sheepishly, gazing down at his lap.

"Sweetheart, don't be ashamed because of it! It is something you want! Don't hide it." I caress his cheek, beginning to feel awful.

"I just don't want to pressure you into anything." he muttered, still not looking up. "I don't want you to feel like we have to get married if it isn't what you want."

I sigh. "It isn't what you think. Of course I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Of course I want to celebrate our love and..." I stop as I think of what I am saying. I continue with a different view. "Tobias, you just freaked me out, okay? Of course I want to marry you. I want to spend every day of my life with you. I'm sorry, I'm not sure why I didn't say that upfront."

Tobias looks up and smiles, a genuinely happy one. "Really?" he asks, and I nod. "Tris.." he whispers before embracing me, his sweet scent smelling like heaven.

His presses a kiss to the top of my head. "It won't happen right now, don't worry." he murmured into my hair. "I just wanted to know, you know? Sooner or later I will get around to asking you, but I needed your consent first."

I nod, suddenly very excited for 'sooner or later'. "Well thank you, for asking me before asking me." I chuckle, and he does the same.

I sit up and rest my head on his shoulder. I groan as I look out to the mess we made. "Look at what you have to clean up." I sigh with a smirk.

Tobias playfully nudges me. "Me? I'm not the one covered head to toe in flour, missy."

"Exactly, so if I cleaned up, I would only make more of a mess. Plus you did this to me." I respond, nudging him back.

"Alright alright. I'll clean up, you jump in the shower." he concludes. Helping me off the floor. I give him a peck on the cheek before heading to the bathroom, surprised I won my case so easily.

"Tris?" he asks me before I make it to the bathroom, and I turn to him, mentally readying myself to fight any reason why I should clean up.

"Since when do you call me 'sweetheart'?"