Roommates

Romantic Gestures

Tris
Early October

It has now been a week since I told Four about my family... a week since he sat with me at the cemetery... a week since the kiss. I felt so guilty, and the drive home was awkward. I didn't see him around the apartment on Sunday; I'm not sure what he was up to during that awful lunch date with Christina and the other girls, and I never asked; I haven't recounted the way Christina acted at lunch, either. But we resumed our regular morning runs on Monday morning.

Since we saw one another again on Monday, the awkward tension has slowly eased between Four and me, but it isn't gone yet. Sometimes we are just fine, joking around as we always have. But then one of us will touch the other without thinking-- a playful shove to the shoulder, or fingers brushing as we pass the remote-- and I feel that spark that I have been trying so hard to forget.

Last night, the kiss resurfaced in my dreams. I felt all of it again, everything. The kind, genuine way he listened to my story, his arms making me feel so safe as he conforted me. The moment in the cemetery when he said I was beautiful. And best-- or worst-- of all, that kiss. That kiss was like hunger and fire coursing through me, my whole body felt alive with energy. The way that something about him made me feel like I was about to fall. Or turn to liquid. Or burst into flames.

And I can't think that way, I can't feel that way, I can't. He has a girlfriend, and I have a boyfriend. Eric isn't perfect, but especially coming home an hour after that kiss to see how he was trying so hard to make things right... Eric deserves better than for me to be half present in this relationship. I have to stop thinking about this, we agreed to forget it. Stop, Tris. Just stop! I shake my head to clear it.

I worked a morning shift today; it is early afternoon and I am walking back to the dormitory. Eric should be home, he has several hours before he has to be at work. I could see that Four's truck was not parked in front of the Dojo when I left; I can only hope that he is at Christina's, I can't see him right now. The guilt would eat me alive.

When I stop into the dining hall on my way in, Eric is there, eating with Peter and Drew. I quickly get myself a salad and approach their table, silently doing a happy dance as I note Molly's absence. I've managed to completely avoid her for the past month. It's a small miracle, really.

Eric smiles at me as I sit down and pulls my chair closer to him, kissing my temple and placing a hand on my knee under the table. "Well, if it isn't Tris. Long time, no see," Peter smirks. "What, think you're too good for us now?"

I scowl. "No, I just think my new friends are more pleasant to spend time with," I answer honestly... and maybe a bit rudely.

Peter mockingly places a hand over his heart. "I'm hurt, Tris, really. Wounded."

I just roll my eyes. I tune out their conversation about the Chicago Bulls' pre-season and prospects for the year. When Peter gets up to leave, he squeezes my shoulder and winks as he passes, making me shudder. The guy is a jerk and I don't want him touching me; in high school he was always hitting on me, way to forward, making me very uncomfortable. Never when Eric was there to see it, of course. I don't trust him one bit.

Eric gathers up our trash and carries it on his tray with one hand while he uses his free hand to grasp my own, pulling me behind him as he takes care of our trash and exits the dining hall.

We pass Four on our way down the hallway on the tenth floor; he gives us a small smile and wave but doesn't say anything, and I am glad he won't be at the apartment with us. Eric and I chat a little, and I tell him about my day at work. I pick up the apartment a little while we talk; Four rarely leaves his stuff out but I'm glad that he left his bedroom door open today, then I don't feel badly setting his backpack just inside the door.