White Walls [DIVERGENT]

10. Kisses

"Cause baby, I found love where it wasn't supposed to be; right in front of me, standing close to me."
Tobias:

Despite the pounding in my body which begs for a longer kiss, I rapidly pull away the very second our lips collide, my eyes wide with fear while a scorching heat blisters my body.

Tris bites the inside of her cheek, her breathing faltering as she realizes what she had just done. I can't necessarily complain, hell, can I kiss her again? Properly?

"I-uh-holy shit, I'm so sorry," She exclaims while taking her hands off of my chest, flying to cover her mouth as her face turns beet red. "Jesus Christ, why'd I do that? I didn't mean to, I'm sorry!"

Shock still ravishing my frame, despite Tris rambling continuously, all I can do it stand there in utter prosperity. Her lips are soft.

Do I kiss her again? Do I not kiss her?

My mind begins racing uncontrollably to the point where all I can do is allow my breath to stop altogether. All I do is hold my breath.

I hold my breath the second that I take her hands in mine, rubbing circles in her palm with my thumb, adrenaline coursing my veins like electricity. Snow pours heavily now, covering my bare arms in the freezing cold. I should be freezing. I should go inside.

I should take her with me, I guess.

Leaning my back against the door frame as I wedge it open with my heel, I watch as Tris averts her eyes to the tendons running down my palms and scaling onto my wrists.

"It's getting cold, do you want to come inside? Nobody's home," I mumble with a quick nod, attempting my absolute best try to remain calm despite the urge which is ripping me apart to kiss her.

It's literally a feeling of skin pulling away from each other, like somebody is slowly ripping my body to shreds.

Tris coughs nervously before adjusting the beanie on her head, her full-fledged winter gear having shifted from her movement.

"I-I guess so, I don't want to bother you, though," She replies gently as I rub my hands over my arms from the cold, sweat sticking my shirt to my back. "Also, what about the chef? Isn't he going to be curious—"

"I'll tell Brosnan that we're working on a project or something."

After several moments of hesitation, she nods gently before entering the house. I almost immediately shut the door because I don't want anymore freezing air drifting into the heat placed throughout the floor.

My eyes avert down to hers as I notice how heavy her breathing as she stares at her palms, cheeks flushed in a crimson red which spreads over her body—well I don't know if that's actually true considering she's wearing about twenty layers of winter clothing.

"Take your coat off, you're going to melt," I tease as the two of us walk down the empty hallway, Tris staring at the photographs which frame the gray walls.

As a wafting smell of soup fills the air, I peer my head into the kitchen, watching as Brosnan chimes away at a cooking book, his bald head shining underneath the light fixture.

"Hello, who's this?" He questions as Tris stands in the doorway, tugging the sleeves of her sweater over her fingers. A smile creeps up on her face.