Everlong (Peter Hayes from Divergent)

Chapter 6: Burning Candor

            "This is what you want?" the woman asks me. "Choose wisely, this is permanent. There's no going back after we start."

I nod and look it over again, tossing the thoughts around in my brain.

"Not that I don't like your idea. I just don't want to do something you'll regret." There's a knowing look in her eyes as if the meaning goes deeper than just the tattoo I'm about to get on my arm.

"I'm sure about this." And I am. It's next logical step and it connects me to my Erudite roots. This is the next step to fitting in around here. Pretty much every person here has been under the needle at some point whether it is tattoos or piercings. I decided to start with a tattoo but I wouldn't mind a couple of piercings here and there. Even though I hated him, I had to admit that Eric's eyebrow piercing looked more than good.

I'm in the tattoo shop sitting in a gleaming black chair that squishes when I move. Neon lights are strategically placed to showcase intricate artworks that I've seen on countless of the other members of my faction. Though they are brave, the Dauntless aren't known for their originality.

"I'll be right with you." The tattoo artist, I think her name is Tori, goes to one of the back rooms and leaves me in the front of the shop by myself.

I hear the door open but don't look over, too fascinated by a picture of a dragon, sleek and powerful. It's admirable. I find another picture along the lines of what I'm getting that is a geometric pattern. Every line is precise and clean, creating a maze of lines that is utterly perfect and satisfying to look at. Every angle is symmetrical with its counterpart the way life should be. I'm sure that if the Erudite measured the lines and angles with their rulers and protractors, everything would check out according to their ever reaching standards.

I know who walked into the shop by the way his breath feels against my ear, a sensation I've become familiar with over the past few months. It's been exactly one year since I joined Dauntless and I'm commemorating the success with a tattoo.

"I think my name would look really good right here." Peter's voice breaks me out of my daze. He drags his fingers across my collarbone with his fingertips, gently grazing the skin. He feels like a feather.

"You think?" I ask and tilt my head to the side, looking in one of the mirrors and pretend I'm actually considering it. "Peter... Peter..." I repeat over and over again like I'm contemplating putting his name in ink across my collarbone. Permanently. I'm not.

But I repeat his name over and over, rolling his name on my tongue quietly into his ear. Peter's face changes when he realizes what I'm doing. He gradually closes his eyes and leaves his lips slightly parted. There was a subtle but sudden heaviness in his breathing so I took the opportunity to lean forward, betrayed by the squishing of the chair, and bite at the bottom of his earlobe while Tori was still in the back.

"You better intend to finish what you start." He warns.

Tori came back out to the front of the shop with the supplies she needs to permanently ink my body. When her eyes set on Peter, she rolled her eyes, clearly bothered by his presence. I'd noticed that aside from me, most people avoided Peter except for the Dauntless leaders and brutes. I don't think he is cruel like them; I think he acts like them as a form of self preservation and to stay above the bottom of the food chain. A chameleon of sorts.

"Ready?" Tori asks me. I nod.

I lean back in the chair as the buzz of the needle reaches my ears. I stretch my other arm out toward Peter and he stares back at me as if I have another foot growing out of my forehead. With his eyebrows furrowed and his nose scrunched in confusion, I couldn't help but laugh out loud.