House Arrest

1- Assignment and Transfer

"Are you serious?"
My eyes widen with skepticism.
Evelyn nods.
"Please, Dominick. I know this a lot to ask-" she begins.
"Do you even realise how much you're asking of me?"
She purses her lips at my interruption, which makes me shut up.
"I have enough on my plate dealing with the wall expedition and the Allegiants. Please." she finishes, looking at me with a convicting expression.
Evelyn isn't usually emotional when it comes to work, but I recognise absolute dread on her face as she explains this task to me. Her dread reflects how I'm now currently feeling.
I sigh heavily. "Okay, FINE. But I want a pay raise." I argue. I don't get paid as much as I used to when I worked for Erudite. I'm not poor, but luxury is nice.
She rolls her eyes. "Fine. Just go do it, okay? I'll fill out the transfer papers by this evening. Retrieve them then."
With that, I'm dismissed.
I walk down the hallway of prison cells, my eyes searching for one particular person.
When I spot her, I wince under my breath and look away. I quickly keep walking.
I'm going to have to look at that face for months. MONTHS.
I shiver at the thought.
I woke up this morning enjoying my life.
Now, I'm fairly sure that i'm going to have a desire to shoot myself by noon tomorrow.
I think about what this job will entail.
Interaction. Conversation. Seeing her EVERY DAY.
I shiver again.
Why did I agree to this? I could've just said no to Evelyn, walked away, and that would be it.
I've always had an agreeable personality- which I accredit to the tiny sliver of Abnegation buried under the Erudite. (Am I even Erudite? I've got a Dauntless job, for God's sake.)

My overthinking usually brings me to run into someone, something, or both-
This time, it was something. Thankfully. I don't trust myself to calmly interact with other humans right now.
I found myself in very close contact with a white wall.
I quickly glance around to see if anyone saw- no one did, thankfully.
Despite how Erudite/Dauntless I may be, I'm clumsy as hell.
I have decided that I will avoid this task for as long as possible in the spirit of being a mature adult who can face my problems.
Good job, Dom.
I sigh and continue walking aimlessly.

Dusk falls.
I make the shame walk back to the office of Evelyn Johnson. I stand in front of the grey door.
I never saw her as the sort of woman who would spend her days filling out paperwork. That's more of a Jeanine Matthews thing. Evelyn is the factionless leader, not the Erudite leader.
I take a deep breath and knock slowly on the door. I honestly hope that she doesn't hear me knocking.
"Come in."
I open the door, smiling weakly.
She's already holding the manila folder of papers out to me. Her expression reveals no pity.
I take them in my own hand, and she nods at me.
"Thank you."
I nod back, and turn to the door.
"And good luck, Dominick."
I nod again and sigh heavily.
Shame walk the second- the walk to the prisoner in question's cell.
I drown my problems out in silence for a few minutes and just listen to the sound of my boots tapping on marble.
I stop and review the papers.
First a note- "Evelyn Johnson has authorised and been made aware of the movement of the prisoner in 3C."
That will prevent me from being thrown in a cell myself.
Then some clerical work I can't bring myself to read, no matter how much I want to avoid this.
One of them is a profile of the woman I'm now in charge of, as well as my own profile.
I want to read her profile. So I do- there's my waste of time.
"Name- Jeanine Louise Matthews."
Haha. Her middle name is ridiculous. I'll have to tease her about that.
"Age- 40"
She's only 40? I thought she was older, though I guess she's got the kind of job that ages you.
Following her name and age are some details about her appearance- nothing you couldn't see if you looked at her.
I see one detail that makes me snort with laughter-
"Wears glasses. Guessing it's only to convince herself she's not the total idiot she actually is."
Evelyn had to have written that. Now anyone is allowed to go against it by law. It's funny.
"Charges-"
Lets see what she's done.
"Mass indirect murder of an entire faction for selfish desires. Inhumane testing of other people for selfish desires."
Wow. That makes her sound like a total ass. Which she is, not going to lie.
Other than that... her record is spotless. Guess all that rebellious teenage attitude that most normal humans have at age 13 built up after all those years.
I continue reading.
"Chronic Migraines."
Hm. Hope that doesn't become an issue while she's under my supervision. I just might have to make it hurt worse.
"Had a therapist for about a year. Therapist refuses to disclose why."
I raise an eyebrow at that- that's weird. Why would a person with no emotions need a therapist? Seems like the perfect Erudite leader isn't so perfect after all. I mean, we all have issues, but hers are buried deep under a facade.
The rest of the medical history is just details about pretty much every illness she's had, ever. She only gets sick about once a year, which is weird. When she does get sick, she ends up in the hospital too. She's a very odd person...
There's not much else, except for a comments section.
I don't think Evelyn could resist, she wrote something.
"Absolute bitch. Stubborn. She could be half dead on the floor and say "I'm fine" and get up and do more work. Good luck to whoever works with her."
I need all the luck I can get.
I put the papers back in the folder- i can't avoid this anymore.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
Evelyn verbally explained the plan of action.
I give the guard outside her cell the note, and my profile. I can keep everything else (which includes her medical history mwahaha).
I take her to the apartment we've been assigned. I got a good deal of my stuff moved there, but she gets nothing except for her clothes to change into.
No books.
Who's being tortured, her or me? I don't even know if she's the kind of person to make casual conversation.
After that is up to me. I make sure she doesn't escape or anything.
I also found out that if she kills me, she gets executed. I've got to use that against her sometime.
I walk forward, and the minute i'm within five feet of her cell, grey eyes lock with mine.
Why does she have to be so CREEPY about eye contact?
I look away and focus on Michael, the guard at her cell.
"I have the papers."
I hand him the note and my profile.
He nods.
"Good luck. She doesn't eat and I don't think she sleeps."
Oh, haha, fantastic. A suicidal psychopath.
I open her cell door.
"Get up. You're being moved." I say firmly. I'm not going to be scared of her and give her that satisfaction.
She raises her head to look at me, and i watch as she smirks.
"I said get up." I order.
When she still doesn't get up, I walk over, grab her upper arm, and yank her to her feet.
Her eyes lock with mine once again, and I look her over.
I can't help but pity her. Her hair is falling out of its hairdo, and her dress has grown wrinkled.
Any makeup she wore is gone (or at least smudged), revealing dark grey shadows under her grey eyes.
Her eyes look like a storm cloud.
I immediately wonder whether i may have misjudged her.
"Are you going to stare at me or am i going to be transferred?"
There's nothing that's changed about her voice. That's definitely the same. Apart from sounding a little tired, she sounds alright.
I grip her arm still and lead her forward. I find solace in my professional attitude I so often have to have.
The trip to the apartment is silent.
Evelyn has created a strict curfew, so there's no one to stare at Jeanine or attack her.
Her breathing seems a little heavy.
"Are you seriously out of breath? We aren't even running." I say with a laugh.
"You're dragging me. It's like I'm a dog and you're literally walking me." she says, sounding somewhat angry. I know she's just exhausted and getting irritated from that. Coming from someone who has four hour shifts from 4 am to 8 am, I understand why she's so tired. No sleep has effects on your mentality and your physical state.
"Sorry. It's late and I don't want anyone shooting at you." I say honestly.
She sighs heavily and lets me drag her.
She's wearing heels- poor thing. She's going to be hating her life when she takes those off.
The streets are empty. I'm getting sick of holding her arm so tightly- I'm fairly sure that I'm going to leave a bruise. But I don't know whether or not I can trust her yet, so I don't let go. I suppose I'll learn to trust her eventually.
I let go of her only to unlock the door.
I open it, and shove her in.
"Take off your shoes and go get changed. Shower if you want. I'll go over the rules when you get back." I say, looking at her with a stern expression.
She doesn't protest. I take up a stack of clothes and basically force them into her arms.
"Thank you." She forces the two words out at me, holding back all the insults i'm sure she's come up with. I smile at her and she just glares.
I sit down on the couch as she walks off into the bathroom, and I relax slightly as I hear the shower start.

She takes a long shower, but how can I blame her? It's probably been about two weeks since she got a warm shower that wasn't in the prison showers. She comes back wearing the black sweatpants and blue t-shirt I gave her. She hands me the old clothes and immediately moves on to brushing out her wet hair. She looks better now that makeup isn't smeared under her eyes.
I bring the clothes to a laundry basket that's in the bathroom by what will be my room.
"You can sleep. I'm not going to do anything." She breaks the silence as I come back, and I find that her grey eyes have been following my every move. God, she's attentive. I notice that she's actually kind of pretty. Immediately i push away the thought, visibly shaking my head. She arches an eyebrow in brief confusion and then goes back to untangling her hair.
I watch her as she walks to the bathroom, and then comes back after patting her hair somewhat dry.
"I'm Dominick Collins." I explain as she sits across from me at the counter.
She nods. "I recognise you. From initiation. You always did have the stature of a guard." she says. I hum softly in response and it becomes quiet again.
I look her over once.
Her fingernails have been bitten off. Gross, I've got to get her to stop that habit.
Her hair is longer than you'd assume now that it's not styled.
She looks so tired and done. Weird look on her, really. She still has good posture, even if it's not as straight as it used to be. Better than mine, actually.
It makes her smirk when I straighten up.
We continue to sit in silence, and i just can't take the awkwardness anymore.
"You should go to bed. I've seen you stifle about five yawns and you look exhausted. Don't try anything on the first night, please." I say, and she nods a little.
"I won't guarantee you anything, Collins. Goodnight." she gets up and shuffles her way to the room she's claimed as hers.
Maybe... Maybe this won't be so bad.
Maybe I can be friends with Jeanine Matthews.
--
Well here you go. Chapter 1. I usually make sure my chapters are at least 2000 words long, so that's why it took so long. Expect somewhat slow updates. Regardless, enjoy. ♥️