Chasm

Chapter 20

And once again, divergentmayfly creates a flawless image for this story. What a genius.🙏🏼

TOBIAS POV

Today is the long awaited day.

Yawning, I enter the dormitory, planning on finding Tris in case she needs assistance in moving her items to my apartment. I figure that she has bare necessities only—like clothes, since Abnegation teachings are so engraved into us—but it wouldn't hurt to offer some help.

Most of the initiates have cleared out of this cavern that they have lived in for a month. Most of them, except for Christina and Dez, who apparently have yet to settle in their apartment. They are the only people in the dorms.

"Where's Tris?" I ask, not offering any greetings. To me and to them, I will always be their instructor. Maybe it won't be that way forever, but for now treating them as anything more than subordinates is out of the ordinary for me, despite their relationship to my girlfriend.

"Oh, 'hi' to you too, Four," Christina snarks.

I fold my arms, not in the mood for her smart-ass remarks. In any other circumstance I would just walk away, but I don't know where Tris is; after being trapped in the control room all day for my official first day back at work, I got off at dinnertime and didn't happen to run into her.

Christina rolls her eyes. "She said she was going to move in with you today. She took all of her stuff with her."

My apartment would have been an obvious choice, though I didn't want to take any chances and end up having to leave the apartment wing to search for her.

"Thanks," I say stiffly and leave.

Upon arriving at my flat, I turn the doorknob and find that it is unlocked. Tris must be here in that case. When I see her figure standing next to my bed in my peripheral vision, I start talking.

"Hey," I greet her, bending over to untie and remove my shoes. "Did you get all of your stuff? I didn't see anything else down in the dorms..."

I trail off when I actually look at her. Beneath her lengthy hair, her shoulders are sagged, indicating a downturn in her mood. Strange, since she seemed fine this morning.

"Tris, is something wrong?"

With a sniffle, she turns to face me, though she keeps her eyes trained down. In her hands is my handgun that I keep inside my nightstand drawer.

"Tris, what are you doing with my gun?" I ask carefully. How did she even know where to find it?

Stoically, she answers, "I...need it."

"For what?"

This is the wrong reply, because she wraps her fingers around it and raises it to her temple with determination.

My breath catches in my throat, and I decide to wisely not make any sudden movements that might trigger her. Instead of figuring out why in the world she is attempting suicide, I quickly narrow down my options.

She is too far away for me to lunge at her; I wouldn't get there in time. There is no real other way to disarm her, except...

Discreetly, I reach down into my pocket for my pocketknife, fully prepared to throw it at her wrist. I don't want to hurt her, but it is a better alternative than letting her die.

Her face is pale and her hair is dull, stuck to her cheeks because of the tears. Desolation flashes back at me in her expression, but that is not the part about it that catches my attention. More importantly, I notice that her eyes are glossed over, almost like she is under a simulation.