Mr. Piercing

2 - Accent

Castielle

Ten hours. That's how long I've been out.

Groaning, I get the sleep out of me by slapping my cheeks. The sound echoes in the room I am in. It is nothing special, really. Just plain white walls, a single bulb hanging from the ceiling--wait. 

Wasn't I up at the border thingy with the guy who apparently didn't like Ed?

 "Oi!" I shout loudly, "Beefy guy with piercings! Where you at?"

Silence. 

I heave a sigh. Damn it. Did he imprison me? 

I got bored pretty quick as minutes passed by. My hands are tugging on the cuffs, my legs are restlessly bouncing up and down, my ears are missing Ed's great tunes. Ugh, where the hell is my phone?

"I heard he spent five hundred pounds on jeans, goes to the gym at least six times a week. Wears boat shoes with no socks on his feet and I heard he's on a new diet and watches what he eats. He's got his eyebrows plucked and his arsehole bleached--"

"Shut the fuck up."

My singing comes to a stop as my gaze travels to the door. The man earlier is leaning against the door frame, a scowl on his face.

"You know," I voice out, "You're gonna get wrinkles on your thirties. You frown a lot, as far as I could see."

He growls, and I mean growls, and stalks towards me. I move away from him as far as I can, "Hey, hey, hey. No need to get angry, mate. I was just--"

He cuts me off with a murderous look, and my mood vanishes. Sighing, I go with him without a single complaint and let him guide me out of the room. We enter yet another weird looking room, one that has no windows or any sign of ventilation. Surprisingly though, I am not sweating.

Mind you, I have overly active sweat glands.

The guy pushes me onto a chair carelessly, and then sits across from me. He leans across the table to give me a stink eye and runs a finger through his amazingly styled hair. 

Yes, I am complimenting my could-be killer.

"If you answer my questions without any struggling or opposing, we won't have any problems."

His voice is deep and pleasing to hear, and my eyes widen in surprise. Wow, he can be singer with that voice.

"First,---"

"Let me take a selfie!"

Quiet. It is so quiet that I can hear my heart pumping. Sheepishly, I smile. "Sorry. Go on, go on."

He narrows his eyes, "Where are you from? How did you get here? What do you want from Dauntless? Why are your clothes of strange colour? Why do you have weird shit on your bag? Why do you have a nasty accent--"

"Nasty?" I interrupt with a scoff, "Excuse me, you cunt. Aussies have the best fucking accent."

"You sound like you drank a mountain load of beer every time you open your mouth."

My expression shows how appalled I am, "Wow, mate. How can you be so racist?"

"I don't get the connection of racism and the weird way you speak."

"Didn't you go to school, huh? It's so obvious that--"

"Just answer my questions. You're wasting my time."

"Alright," I finally concede, "... What was your first question again?"

He bangs his hand on the table, "Why, you little--"

"I'm not little! I'm five foot three! And don't blame me for not remembering your long arse questions!"

He bites his lip, and I can feel the waves of anger flowing from him. A vein bulges in his neck as he says, "Where are you from?"

"The land Down Under."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Australia, mate! A-U-S-T-R-A-L-I-A. Get it?"

He ignores me as he writes something down on a sheet of paper, "How did you get here?"

"I travelled with my aunt going here. We used a plane by the way," He gives me yet another stink eye and I clear my throat, "Anyway, I ended up getting lost after I wandered from our new house, which is conveniently beside a huge fuck off forest. I saw a smoke high up from that border thing, climbed up and saw a camp fire. You saw me chilling with Ed and shot me with a sleepy gun and when I woke up, I was in a room. You then dragged me here and is continuously giving me the stink eye for talking too much."

"It's clear that you're not from my society." He says, and his tone is calmer than before, "Your presence shows that there is life outside the fence."

He stands, walks to me and leans down to look at me square in the eyes, "Tell me, how many are you? What do you want from us?"

"You're making me nervous," I squeak, "Stop giving me such hard questions! I don't know a thing about the world's population!"

He stands up to his full height and stands in an intimidating stance, "I told you that if you answer--"

The door opens.

The man swoops down and shields me from view, giving me no time to react as he presses his lips against mine. 

What the fuck?

"Eric, Max is--oh wow. I-I'm gonna tell him that you're uh--yeah. Shit, it's like watching a--"

The door bangs shut.

I surface for air as I scramble away from the man before me, my eyes as wide as saucers. His expression is stoic and unreadable. 

Still gasping for air, I say, "Well, damn. You move fast, don't you? You should know that before kissing a lady, you should take her out on a date and get to know her first and--hey! Your lips are bleeding!"

"You bit me."

Oh.