Disremembered (Fourtris story)

Chapter 2: Memories

+++M Rating Alternative Chapter Available+++  See Disremembered M Rating story that is listed under my works as well.

** 1 week later**

*Four POV*

I have this recurring dream that haunts me, of course I would have it again tonight – my last night here. The dream is always the same, I enter the new apartment I have secured in Chicago, and Tris is there. She looks at me and smiles, brushing stray strands of hair behind ear. Her eyes so bright, so happy to see me. I feel my pulse quicken – that excitement I feel when I think there is the possibility that a kiss may be in my immediate future. Or even just her smile. And then the next moment she is just gone. I run through the small apartment calling for her – but there is only silence. Silence and the dread I feel in my chest. I always wake before I open the last door in the apartment, to the bathroom of all places.

Shivering from the dream, I quickly breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. As I use the breathing technique to calm myself, I look around the dormitory, my eyes finally fix on the empty cot next to me. The cot where had Tris slept. I painfully recall a night in the dormitory, we had even pushed our cots just a little close closer, and I can remember looking at her beautiful eyes and holding her hand as I fell asleep.

I look at my hands now, as I try so hard to remember what she felt like when our fingers were entwined. What I would give to just be able to do something as simple as moving two cots closer together in order to be able to feel her just one more time. It is too soon for me, but I want to believe that someday I can think of that moment and smile. Verses the sick and empty feeling I have now.

I try to concentrate on tomorrow. Tomorrow I leave the Bureau. I hate this place. I literally hate this place. Aside from the obvious point that Tris died here, I have to be honest with myself, there were so many personal obstacles between us during our time here. Most of which I know were my fault. To torture myself, I remember moments where I chose to turn away from her, to shut her out...I replay them in my mind. Again and again.

Although I am so very tired, I toss and turn for what feels like hours, and then I finally know what I must do. I need to just feel the pain, to face it, and I know that this must happen tonight – or it will never happen. I find myself quietly slipping on my shoes and then walking out of the dormitory. I do not want to wake my friends. I still have the habit of sleeping fully dressed. I find myself in the hallway, I walk quickly in the direction that would take me to the spot in the hallway we stood our last night.

I close my eyes and go over her words, "It's what you deserve to hear. That you're whole, that you're worth loving, that you're the best person I have ever known." I think of her hand on mine, but what I most remember was looking into her eyes that were filling with tears.

In that moment I knew that she loved me more than anyone ever had or ever would love me. I wanted to devour her, I could barely control myself from crashing my lips to her mouth until she finished her sentence. For all I know, she may have had a couple more things left to say to me in that moment. I close my eyes, remembering how urgently she returned my kiss, and her hand on my shirt pulling me closer to her.

I sigh as I walk more slowly now, down the hallway and I stop outside that same door. I never did ask her how she even knew this empty room that conveniently had a couch, existed. The insignificant things that cross our minds in the middle of significant moments. But now I stand there, quietly closing the door behind me – realizing that I will never have that answer. Tris is gone. I steady my breathing again, as I walk painfully towards the couch. That night, I felt it instantly – I knew she was ready to with me. I would have waited for her until the end of time. She was the only one I have ever wanted. To be close to her, in any way was not only enough for me - it was everything to me.

I felt her falter for a moment, but I knew it was not fear of us giving one another to each other fully, I could almost read her mind as she looked my body over, the insecurities she often felt, which I never understood – but always respected and tried to reassure her. I knew it was what she had needed from me. I was actually nervous myself. I decided in that moment, to put it all on the line, exactly how I felt about her, body, mind and soul. I willed her to see me, to really see how I felt. Pulling her towards me at the waist, kissing her exposed stomach while telling her how beautiful she is. And I meant it, she was so beautiful. And she was mine. And I was hers. The next moment she told me she loved me, I had to show her. I had to show her that we were real. I had joking responded with a quirky "I know," as I decided it was time to move us to the couch. She laughed, and I knew she felt safe, it was me. It was us. I had never felt so happy to approach a couch in my life.

I look around the room again as I walk to the couch. It both satisfies the need for proof that our love making was real and devastates me at the same. The pillows on the couch are exactly as we had left them that last morning. I close my eyes tightly, pushing away the tears, trying to ignore the lump forming in my throat. I remind myself that I will never be in this room again. So this one time, I will honor Tris, and as painful as it is, and remember that last night together.

To calm myself, I tell myself that I will be brave – and then I will put this memory away. Never to think about it again. I literally feel my chest burning. I lay down on the couch, now the tears are spilling but I manage to keep my sobs at bay. Instead I close my eyes and remember that moment.

Her hands caressing my sides. The way that any touch she shared with me would send a bolt of energy throughout my entire body. A pleasure I never dreamed that I could experience, one I didn't know existed. That night was so much more than I had ever imagined. Being in Dauntless, sex was something that was so casual for many – but also sought.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I remember holding her tightly the first time she experienced the euphoria, and it was the happiest moment of my life – to know that she was experiencing something extraordinary not only with me, but because of me. I felt the way her confidence flourished that night, with each time we made love her smiles becoming broader and her responsiveness more spirited. She was as hungry for me as I was for her. I needed her. I still do.

I lay on the couch, hugging the pillows. It is the saddest I have felt in days, which says a lot. Tomorrow, I will put this all behind me. And then sleep consumes me.