Complicated Love (Divergent Peter Fanfic)

Who Are You?

Note:

I do not own any of the characters or the main idea from the Divergent book from the wonderful Veronica Roth. But I have created some, like the character Florence.

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I couldn't help myself but start to sob. Who knows what this boy would do to me?

''What do you want from me? Who are you? Why am I here!'' I wanted to scream, but all the words got stuck in my throat and no matter how hard I tried to say them, they just wouldn't come out. I never felt this weak before, all my insides burning.

''Hey there, it's okay. You're fine, I took care of you.'' The boy said gently once he saw me crying. He got closer to the bed I was lying on presently, and that's when the words came out, but not exactly what I wanted to say.

''Who are you?''

''I'm Peter. I saw you yesterday, bleeding badly on the ground. I didn't know what happened but I couldn't just leave you there, so I brought you back to my house, and my mom took care of your wounds. You're fine now.''

I nodded.

''What's your name?''

''Fl-Florence.''

He approached the bed once more and I winced back in fear until my back was fully pressed to the backrest of the bed.

''I'm not going to hurt you; I just want to ask you something. And to make sure you're your wounds are okay.''

''What do you want to ask me?'' I asked him before he could get too close to the bed.

''Who did this to you?''

Millions of answers passed through my mind, and even though I'm Candor and I'm supposed to tell the truth, I'm not going to tell him who did this to me. I had never told the truth about who really did this to anyone, and I wasn't going to start now.

That's not true. One person knew. Eric. And once he found out, he felt bad for me, but he didn't do anything. Until the last time I saw him. I was hurt so bad that I could barely move. He had gotten so pissed that he had marched downstairs from my room and almost punched Sebastian. Though his dad stopped him. Told him that what he was about to do was unacceptable. And I never saw him again since that day.

This couldn't happen again. Not to Peter. Even though I don't even know him, I don't want what happened to Eric to happen to him.

So I finally said, ''I got attacked by someone.'' Tell more, this lie won't work if you don't tell him who, ''I don't know who though. I didn't see their face. I was able to escape from him though. But that's all I know, the rest just blurs altogether.'' There, that should get him off the topic, I hope.

''Okay,'' Peter just nodded, but knew that he didn't believe me. I could see it in his beautiful green eyes like they were an open book.

I've been staring at him for too long, but I just couldn't look away. And he didn't look away either. We stayed like that, in silence, for a couple of seconds.

''Umm, can I see your arm?'' Peter asked, breaking the silence.

''Wh-what? My arm? Wh-'' I started before I realized that one of my arms was wrapped up in medical tape. There was blood staining it.

He slowly reached toward me and grabbed my arm carefully, like if he was holding the most fragile thing in his hands, one slight squeeze and it would break.

After a minute or so, the bandage was off, and I could finally see what Sebastian had engraved in my arm.

Traitor.

Why would he do this? What did I ever do to deserve this?

I didn't even realize that I was crying until Peter wiped my tears with his thumb.

''Hey there, it's going to be alright, this won't happen to you again.'' He whispered.

I shook my head. No, it won't be okay, Sebastian will keep doing things like this to me, he always has, and always will, it won't stop!

The bed lifted and I realized that Peter now sat beside me and I didn't move. What was the point? Instead, I leaned into him.

He put his arm around my shoulders and rubbed small circles on one.

''You know, we might not know each other, but I don't think it's by coincidence that I found you. I think it means something.''

I laughed. It wasn't actually funny, but it's better than crying.

Before I knew it, I fell asleep on his shoulder, listening to him talk about his family and friends, and what he liked to do on his spare time, which involved fighting with someone and getting them in trouble.

Eric barged into my room. Once he saw me, he quickly got to my side and took my hand in his.

''Florence,'' he started, a bit shaky, ''did he do this to you?''

I closed my eyes, not being able to see the pain in his eyes as he took in my situation. My left wrist was broken; I had one black eye, a cut thigh and multiple other sore spots from where my dad hurt me.

Slowly, I nodded. It sent a stab of pain go through my body, like paper catching on fire, starting slowly, then all at once.

''No. no, no, no, no, no, NO!'' Eric yelled. One look at him and you'd think he want to burn down the world.

I winced. And he noticed because he quickly apologized.

''Don't apologize, you did nothing. And you can't do anything about in either. No matter what anyone does, it'll never stop.

He kissed my hand and kept his eyes closed. But it didn't stop the tears from coming. This was probably one of the hardest and painful thing ever. Not physically, but emotionally.

''I need to take you far away from this place. So you never have to see him again. Just you and me and the world.'' With that said he got up and marched toward the door.

''Eric, what are you doing?'' I asked exasperated. Was he leaving already?

''I'm going to do something I never thought I'd do.'' He then slipped out through the door. I wished I could get out of bed and follow him, but every time I moved a tiny bit, it hurt. So all I could do was listen.

''-hell could you?'' it was Eric, and he was yelling. ''She's your daughter and you treat her like a punching bag!''

''I don't know what you're talking about, Eric.'' My dad's voice.

''You know exactly what I'm talking about! You did that to her! You hurt her! Like every other time I come!''

''I think you misunderstood, she fell down the stairs. That's why she's so hurt. I wouldn't do anything to hurt Florence; I love her with all my heart.'' He sounded so sincere. If I hadn't known him any better, I might have thought he was telling the truth. But I do know him. And every word that comes out of his mouth is a lie.

''Like if, you piece of shit! She told me what you did to her! It's your fault! How would you like it if what you do to her every day happened to you?''

''Eric, stop!'' I wanted to tell him. He doesn't know what he's getting himself into!

Then there was silence for a moment.

Until Eric's dad yelled, ''Eric! What did you think you were about to do?''

''Punch him is what I knew I'd do, not think! He deserves to die!'' he shouted back.

''You know what john, leave my house and never come back. I don't ever want to see you or your son ever again.'' My dad ordered.

''NO! YOU'LL JUST HURT HER EVEN MORE! YOU CAN'T DO THAT!'' Eric shouted.

Then the front door slammed shut. And that was the last time I ever heard or saw Eric.