Splatter [DIVERGENT]

twelve; kisses

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Tobias
8:47PM
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"Wow," I announce while biting my lip, running a hand through my freshly cut hair. "T-That's amazing, Tris."

My hands shake slightly as I sit down in front of the fireplace, crackles of blazing orange and tongues of red spitting at my legs. Beside me, bundled in a layer of blankets from the closet, is Tris.

Dark shadows are cast on her cheekbones from the shadow of the fire, enhanced because of the darkness in the room itself.

She smiles, wrapping the tan blanket tighter around her body. Curled up into the sofa, I notice how exhausted she looks.

The way bags rest under her eyes and her thin lips seem to be permanently set in a frown, whether she likes it or not.

When I first arrived at her house after work, we had initially decided that we would finish painting the remainder of the walls. But, Tris brought up her conversation with Evelyn and how she finally got her well deserved vacation, and painting got put aside.

I'm not complaining though.

Frankly, I'm quite liking the setting right now. I know that after I tried to kiss her, it had made things a bit awkward between us. That was a huge fear of mine—that if I made even one mistake, she would disown me.

Now that we're on good terms again, the urge to lean forward and connect our lips has grown even more.

Everytime I see her silhouette turn towards me, radiant blonde hair flying to frame her petite face. Or when she smiles, even faintly, and it feels like I'm surrounded my baby blue cotton candy.

I just want to kiss her.

But, I know my boundaries. Right now, even though I'm aware that I'm attracted to her—I have been since she spilled juice on my mother—I'm not sure that the feeling is mutual.

She thinks of me platonically, even though I'm craving for more.

When we hugged, and I saw her trembling, I could only focus on one thing. I wanted to be there for her to lean on, to support her, but one thing had me shook. The way she smelled.

Like a fresh patch of daisies, their white leaves blowing with even the slightest gust of wind. Freshly baked cinnamon rolls, their ivory frosting shining like pearls glistening under a bright light.

Everything about her manages to make me like her more and more, but Tris can never know that, especially not now.

She's a strong woman, God, she's probably the strongest one I've ever met.

But Tris is fragile, easily broken. She's incredibly brave, having the ability to push through a struggle with all her strength.

But she had broke, and was at the end of her string. If she let go of that invisible red string, then chaos would have erupted in everybody's life.

Now, here we are, sharing the sofa together while staring at the fire pit, that is pretty much the only light source in this room.

"Tobias," she stutters, "it's not amazing, at all."

Even when she says my name, it's like a melodic hymn that I never want to stop. But, with the panic rising in her voice, I pull myself back into reality.

Shaking my head, I tug on the sleeves of my navy hoodie and pull them over my fingers. "What are you talking about, Tris? Of course that's great!"

Getting a week off is a challenge itself, especially when your boss is the CEO. But, considering that the CEO is my mother—a painfully blunt, full-time worker and occasional mom—that goes to new levels. I'm shocked that Tris managed to get even a few days off. But she deserves it.