Eric Coulter ⋆ One Shots

⋆ april fools ⋆

"You want to do what?" I ask Zeke, my long time friend who stands in front of me, having refused to sit down before telling the 'big news.'

"You heard me. We need to glitter bomb Eric." He says this as if it's as simple as tying a shoe and not a deadly mission.

I shake my head at him, my long hair being tousled with the movement.

"You're insane." I comment, moving to accommodate his large and rapidly approaching figure. 

The warm blanket I have draped over my body is lifted for a moment while he slides in adjacent to me. A small shiver runs through me from the cool air. The one thing that was unexpected when arriving in Dauntless was the constant freezing cold atmosphere due to being underground.

"Mhm." He moves to face me, turning his body ever so slightly. "And you really only need to do one thing." He says, tilting his head as if it would change my mind.

I sigh and allow him one small side glance.

"Please explain."

"Great well you see all you have to do is plant the explosive." He trails off at the end, his voice turning into a whisper.

I give him a shocked look and shake my head yet again.

"No. There's no way in hell I'm going into the lion's den." Eric's office, though frequented often enough for important matters, was a death trap on its own, even when being used for its rightful purpose, and not for a crappy April Fools Day prank.

"Come on Y/N." He taunts, "Don't you want to be known as the girl who pulled off the first and possibly only prank on Eric Coulter, feared Dauntless leader." He says the last part with an eyre seriousness.

"No I don't want to be! Do have any idea the size of target I'd have on my back after that. That is if I even pull it off."

He nods once as if considering my statement, then in a flash rips the warm blanket from my body. I gasp as the chilly air hits my bare skin, having been too lazy to slip on more than shorts under the oversized hoodie I wear.

"Zeke, give it back!" I screech, goosebumps prickling my exposed skin.

"Not until you agree to the plan." He says, too calm for the situation at hand to be unfolding.

A small whimper escapes me and I have no choice but to give in. Practically screaming my surrender I wallow in self pity as he throws the fabric back at me.

"Meet me in my apartment at 11." He states over his shoulder and walks out.

I'm so screwed.

+++

I stand in a dark, deserted hallway about 20 feet from Eric's office, the door is left ajar, out of the ordinary but perfect for our plan. Zeke said he knew a guy on cleaning service and that they would "help us out," I'm assuming this is the help.

I look both ways, even going as far as to peek in any nearby windows, hoping and finding that I'm completely alone.

"Okay," I whisper to myself as I walk into his office. "Get in, get out, get home. This'll only take a second." I repeat this mantra over and over while I work. My back faces the door, making my main focus on the desk and chair.

The plan, from what Zeke said, is to cause the explosion when he sits on his seat, the pressure hopefully triggering the bomb.

As I work my hands slowly are covered with bright pink glitter, the sparkles shining in the dim moonlight coming from the nearby window.