Stay Away | Eric Coulter [1]

eleven

"This is impossible," I grumbled, glaring at the hole in the wall behind the target my bullet had just made. "Is this thing rigged?"

Eric snickers, "It's cute that you think I give enough shits about you to rig your gun."

"No," I shoot back, "But you do give enough shits to help me. Your point?"

Eric grunts in reply and I took it as a victory on my part.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked, eyeing him curiously.

Eric mumbles something under his breath almost too soft for me to make up, but sounded suspicious like: that's what I'm trying to figure out, too.

"You're too tense and it's affecting your aim," He swiftly changes the subject, "You need to relax."

I do the exact opposite when I feel his presence against my back.

"Did you not hear me just tell you to relax?"

I scowl at him, "That's a little hard to do when you're pressed right up against me. Ever heard of personal space, buddy?"

The infuriating idiot presses closer to me, "Why? Does this make you nervous?"

Goosebumps covered my arm at how his breath tickles my ear when he chuckles and I shift on my feet. Damn him.

The next thing I know, his arms are coming around me and his chest is plastered against mine. He was so close that I could feel the low rumble as he speaks.

"You're holding the gun wrong," He states, helping me to reposition it in my hands. "You shouldn't cross your thumbs, you might get injured when it recoils."

"You've just watched me shoot an entire round and you're just telling me this now?" I quip, relishing the sound of his low laughter more than I probably should.

Eric then guides my arms higher, "Go ahead, try again."

I squeezed the trigger and felt the kickback of the gun in my hands.

Excitement swells in my chest as I take a good look at my target, where my bullet had landed right in the centre. Bullseye.

I gasp, literally jumping for joy. "I did it!"

Eric presses his lips together as if he's trying to hold in a laugh as he watches me with those gorgeous blues of his, "It doesn't count unless you do it on your own."

My shoulder sag at his statement and I let out a heavy sigh, "Do you have to burst my bubble like that?"

This time, he does let out a laugh. And not one of those barely-there ones I'm used to hearing, too. For some reason, it makes my stomach flutter in a way that makes me feel like I'm twelve and crushing on my cute neighbour again.

"Again," He instructs, "It'll be easy to get the hang of it now that you've got your stance and your grip down."

I nod, determined to be able to do this on my own. It also helps that I can concentrate better now that Eric has put some space between us. Though, a part of me does miss the warmth of his body against mine.

Shaking the thought from my head, I focus on the task at hand. Shifting my grip like Eric has instructed and making sure that it's comfortable in my hand, and also taking a deep breath so that I'm nice and relaxed when I take my next shot.

Again, I feel the now familiar feeling of the gun recoiling in my hand and take a closer look to see that my shot had landed just shy of the centre. It's not a bullseye, but it's still a huge achievement and I beam.

I look over at Eric to see his gaze set on me with an expression I can't quite decipher.

"One more time," He says, his eyes never leaving mine. "Aim more to the right this time."

I nod, turning back to the target and doing as he told me to, I open fire.

My eyes widen as I see that it overlapped the shot that Eric had helped me make. In other words, I had just shot a bullseye.

Refraining from celebrating until I've put the loaded gun in my hands down, I carefully set my weapon on the floor, before throwing my hands in the air in triumphant.

"I did it!"

With his gaze still on me, Eric smiles. "You did. Now, you don't have an excuse to suck anymore." He starts towards me, making my breath hitch and my heart race. "I do have one question."

I raise a brow at him, still giddy from my success. "No pun intended, but shoot."

"You're not still mad at me, are you?"

His question stuns me. To be honest, most of my anger has dissipated throughout this session. But now that he's reminded me of it, I can't help but feel like I shouldn't let him off that easily.

"Mad?" I smile at him innocently, feigning oblivion. "Why would I be mad?"

"If I remember this correctly, you walked out on me during dinner the night before and yesterday, you were still intent on giving me the silent treatment." Eric lists out, "Let's not forget how you seemed severely pissed off when we bumped into each other in the hallway along with that little Dauntless-born friend of yours."

"My friend has a name, and it's Uriah." I corrected, narrowing my eyes at him. "I'm still undecided. Might take a little more convincing. You did really piss me off."

Eric hums thoughtfully, "I do like a good challenge."

I can't help but laugh. Only he would enjoy being in the dog house.

He jerks his chin towards the exit, "There's still about fifteen minutes left. Go grab something quick to eat before time runs out." I nod in reply and he turns on his heel to leave.

"Hey, Eric," I call out and he pauses at the door with his hand frozen on the handle, waiting for me to continue. "Thank you."

Eric grunts in reply, as if the act of being thanked was something that was foreign to him and unsettled him to no end.

"Get some food, Nessa." He throws over his shoulder, "I don't need you fainting on me during training."