Divergent FBI

Chapter Sixty-Three

Once I'm out of the Lair, I jog down the stairs to the office that we all share. I stick the flash drive into the desk drawer with my necklace's box before I slam it closed and start towards the door, ready to go home and check on Marlene. Poor thing's been stuck with Uriah.

As I walk out of the door, I'm suddenly slammed against the hallway's wall. I feel a pair of hands grasp my wrists tightly and raise them above my head. Just as I'm about to scream or fight, a pair of lips crash to mine and I close my eyes. I know these lips. I know the person running their hand down the side of my torso, and though I'm mad at him...for a moment, I can't seem to remember why.

Tobias' hand rests on my waist softly, almost non-existent, and the other runs down my face before threading into my hair. I react immediately as he deepens the kiss and I hike a leg up to his hip. I arch into him as he drops the fistful of my hair to run his hand down my thigh, giving me goosebumps all over my body. I feel his other hand tap my other hip and I hop up as indicated. We both draw in a breath of air for that one moment before our lips find each other again easily- now that I'm his height. One of his arms holds me up while the other traces patterns on my back underneath my shirt, making my breath become even shorter as pleasure runs through my body.

It's the pounding of my heart that brings me back to reality.

"Stop, Tobias." I say, detaching our lips. His lips go to my neck instead and I push against his shoulders and try to make him drop me. "Stop!" He finally listens and backs up, his face ashamed. I lean against the wall and press a hand to my face as I pant, trying to gain back my breath. "We can't do this right now...we need to talk first." He nods, his blue eyes piercing mine.

"Yeah... We do."

~*~

We end up back at his apartment after I checked on a very happy Marlene, Uriah's goofiness must have been good for her for a day or two.

We're now sitting across from each other on his couch, me cross-legged and him leaning sideways on the armrest. His blue eyes search my face for any indication about wether I'm still upset with him, but I remain faceless.

"How do we go about this?" He asks me, his blue eyes wide and innocent.

"You've never been in a fight in a relationship?" I question him, chuckling, my eyebrows raised.

"Nope, never had one."

"You never had to talk about a fight with Lauren?" His face scrunches at her name and I laugh even more.

"No, we had fights, we just never talked about them." And that's why you're no longer dating. What a great idea, 'let's just never talk about our problems, that will go well'. "She always came back to me, no longer concerned with whatever our fight was about."

"Why on earth would she just come back?" I ask, my respect for her diminishing even more, if at all possible. He shifts uncomfortably and can't seem to meet my gaze.

"You probably don't want to know." He admits, his voice low and guilty. What's he mean by that?

"No." I voice through clenched teeth. "No, you don't get to have secrets anymore, neither of us do. That's why we're in this situation in the first place." His eyes meet my own and I run a hand down my face, utterly exhausted all of a sudden. "Why'd she just come crawling back? Is her self-esteem really that low?" No offense.

"No, but Tris, you probably really don't want to know."

"Tobias, whatever it is, I can deal with it." I whisper, leaning forward to grab his hand. He should be able to tell me anything if we're really going to do this. "Your past is exactly that- your past. I've seen you change, you don't have to hide your former-self." He looks up at me and I try to brace myself. The guilt swimming in his eyes makes me nervous.

"She wasn't really in it for the relationship," he shifts. "I don't think either of us were really." Ohhhh.

"So it was for sex." I state, my brain sending out danger signals. He nods slightly and I swallow.

"But," he begins. "Like you said, that was the old me. I'm not like that anymore and I don't want that anymore." He leans in and threads our fingers through each other. Both his words and the motion make my heart glow. "I don't want superficial. I don't want physical." His thumb runs over my knuckles and the corners of my lips upturn slightly. "I want real... Tris, I want you." He leans towards me and plants a feather-light kiss on my lips.

"I love you, Tobias." I murmur, my eyes trained on his movements.

"I love you too." We gaze at each other for a long time. Though we are not touching, we are connected, by the love that links us together. We are bound by the heavy chains, the bond that means if one is hurt, the other is too. The chains make us weak, and though I don't know about him, but I like the weight.

"So how'd you meet my mom?" I ask him after some time. A grin splashes onto his face, making me realize just how close they must have been.

"She and your father came to our house one night to have dinner when I was 10. I don't think I told you, but he was an FBI agent too." I nod my head. It makes sense, why else would my parents be having dinner with him as often as I think they did? "Marcus had started hurting me by then, and I pretty much was only allowed to sit and be quiet in his presence, but when she asked if I wanted to play after dinner outside, I went so I could get away from him." My mom was always the one that played with us. We were constantly playing hide and seek or thumb wrestling when she was home. I think she liked it more than I did. "We played hide and seek," he tells me, one of the happiest looks on his face that I've ever seen. "she let me win every game, but I couldn't remember having that much fun since my mom had died. I don't know if it was because of me, or because of FBI business, but they started coming a lot more after that."

"You said that she helped you escape, when did she find out he was hurting you?" He crinkles his brows at the question, maybe reluctant to answer, but he does anyways.

"Well, they started coming to dinner about once a month after that first time, and as I got older, we started talking more and more. When I was fifteen, we were talking about football- I used to play in high school-" That makes sense. "and I let it slip that I had missed a game because I was injured. She asked me about how I got hurt until I had no choice but to tell her. She knew exactly when I was lying." He swallows and looks down at our hands as his thumb runs across my fingers again. "I started coming to your house after every beating then."

"So you'd seen pictures of me and everything, how did you not recognize me when I got here?" My brows furrow as I look to him for an answer. He chuckles and plays with my fingers before looking up at me, a flirty grin on his face.

"You changed a lot in the two years since I had seen a picture of you." I blush and look down. I know I did. When I was 16, I still looked 12. I didn't have boobs of any sort, my face still seemed to have baby fat on it, and I was about four inches shorter. "Anyways, I would always come to you house after, and Natalie would patch me up. She actually told me you were her niece whenever I asked, it wasn't until we left that I figured out that you were her daughter."

"Why did she tell you I was her niece?"

"You don't know?" He asks, making me shake my head, confused. "You were a secret."