Dauntless

Dauntless: Daddy, Dearest

Eric POV

"Listen here, you motherfucker," Camille snarled, glowering at me from across the table. "So help me if you don't pick one fucking name, I'm drawing them out of a hat!"

I grimaced, crossing my arms. We'd been arguing over this for a week now, and neither of us could agree on a single name for either gender of our child. She was only six months pregnant, the size of a watermelon, I figured we still had time.

It had come as quite a shock to everyone when she'd started showing, I'd been a little surprised at how much attention she incurred. Of course, we weren't married, neither of us intended to be either. Camille had stated explicitly she never would be, and I wasn't exactly pressing the issue.

At least now no one was wondering why she wasn't patrolling or doing any physical training, that question had been answered.

Now the only trouble was — well, doing the pre-parent bullshit.

We'd already been assigned a new apartment, and I'd been reluctant to give up my space. I'd had it since I'd entered Dauntless, and to leave it behind — it really did feel like that part of my life was over.

Not going to lie, our new apartment was ten times better. Four bedrooms, a larger kitchen area, and the living room had a much better view of the city then my old one. I was pretty sure Max had given us one of the best ones available, but considering how much shady shit we did for him, we should have gotten his apartment.

Baby stuff littered any available space, and Camille was on a rampage suddenly trying to get everything together. I'd spent two hours yesterday trying to figure out how to assemble some strange baby bouncing... thing. I'd put it together, but I wasn't sure how well it was going to hold.

I was a soldier, not a handyman!

"Camille, I don't know. I don't like any of these names."

My girlfriend huffed in annoyance, twisting her long black hair around her finger as she looked at the table, at all the names scribbled on a piece of paper. Her hand moved habitually to her stomach — it had seemed like she'd had a flat, toned stomach, and then all of a sudden she'd just ballooned outward overnight.

I can still remember her pitching a fit when she realized she couldn't get into her regulation black jeans anymore, that she was going to have to wear those ugly maternity clothes. She wasn't excited about being pregnant, and after this, I doubted we'd ever have any condom-free sex again.

Not that I'd blame her, she was the one having to carry my devil spawn anyhow. I would be the leader of Dauntless one day, and she would be the one who had to stay back and make sure our child didn't blow something up. Sure, we could stick it in daycare, there was one in the pit open while we worked, but Camille hadn't seemed thrilled at the idea.

It wasn't like anyone would hurt or bully our child — everyone was scared shitless of us and rightly so. I would break someone's fingers if they tried to touch that baby.

Maybe their wrist, too.

"Well, we have to pick something!" she muttered, crossing her arms. "We can't just call it 'It' for the rest of it's existence."

"We don't even know what it is, what does it matter?"

"Well, I want to be surprised!"

"Why can't I just know what it is and you remain in surprise?"

"Because you'll fucking slip up and give it away!"

I rolled my eyes.

So dramatic!