Love before blood (Uriah and Zeke of Divergent FF/SMUT)

Chapter 3

Though it feels heavy and hard to move, I did. I took a step closer. He's watching me intently. Now that he has his eyes on me, I barely remember how what is the purpose of air. The room feels suffocating now like it's taking my rights to breathe. My body automatically tensed when my eyes met his. He still bears that gentle look in his dark eyes. 

         "Do you mind to have a little talk for awhile?" He said calmly, even as gentle as the look he's giving me. I stare at him, weighing what would be my decision. For a second, I see a spark of distress and longing in his eyes, the next second it's gone. Making me almost unsure. Could it be that he is troubled as I am? But it couldn't be because he wanted it this way. He broke up with me.

          "Uhm," I said second guessing. I was dazed by all the happenings. It is so hard to think straight right now.

          "You don't need to comply. I came here hoping you could hear me out this time but if you don't want to, I understand." He said flashing a smile but it doesn't reach his eyes. He prop himself into bed,  shifting into a more comfortable position. He sit, hunching his shoulders. His elbows lying on his knees and fingers laced together in front of him. Hiding a tensed feeling which he can't from me. Then, he looked upto me, waiting for an answer. I can't stand that kind of look. I have to make my decision now, come on make up your mind before your emotions clouds your decisions. I thought to myself.

        "Ok." I said hoarsely, good heavens I have made my decision finally. It took me a minute to said it that my voicebox almost failed me. Though overwhelmed by relief, I still walked stiffly going to the bed across his. I was about to sit down when he grabbed my wrist and pulled me beside him.

        "Hey!" I protested but he did nothing but stare at me. Why are boys so fond of staring?

Zeke's grip on my wrist is firm and careful. He held me gingerly like I am so precious and fragile but I don't want that kind of treatment. I am strong on my own. I tried to break free from his grip but he is powerful as I am. I wriggled my arm, exterting more effort than him. It made me realize that we're both strong but he's stronger. I stopped but didn't accept my defeat.

       "Cut it off, would you?" I told him, glaring. He ignored my dispute and continue to stare at me intently for little while then let out a brief sigh.

        "Just sit beside me and here me out," He said almost pleading. He's still holding on my wrist and his stare didn't break. Well fine, I guess I have to face him now. My hatred and confusion is much but my eagerness for explanation is greater. I have my questions and I need answers, I may not be prepared but I have to. 

          "Ok but promise me that you would answer my questions like a Candor." I replied, asking for a reassurance though my body is still rigid because of our position. We're too close though we've been more than this close before but this just feels foreign again. I think pain made this new to me again. It's like I lost a piece of me, got everything fucked up then later strucked with some realizations so I begin starting over again and now it is trying its best to fit me again like it didn't left or cause any damage. I feel the hatred lingering on my skin so I tried to brush it off by placing my free hand on my lap.

          "Even without truth serum, I will." He let go of my wrist. I almost sigh with relief but then his hand moved from my wrist up to the side of my face. His long and rough with tough work fingers which I find sexy even before, cupped my cheek as his thumb gently traces the dark circles under my eyes turning me not just tense or rigid but stone-like. My heart pounds hard against my chest like it's desperate to get out. I tried to steady my heartbeat so I just set my focus on his eyes and saw that it squinted with concern as he say, "Have you been stressed-out lately? Is it because of me?"