Eric Coulter ⋆ One Shots

⋆ an embarrassment ⋆

"Not too many transfers this year," Four speaks from beside me. I shake my head in disappointment.

"They get smaller each time. Your class was 4 smaller than mine, and they're 3 smaller than yours. At this point we won't be a faction anymore but just a shitty club." I retort, a weak smile on my face. Only having 2 years seniority over this years initiates and one over my "student," my stomach twists, this time I have responsibilities. This time I'm a leader.

"Wish me luck," Four says before brushing past me to greet the new crowd. I watch as his shoulders rise and square as he gets closer to the group; as he takes on the position he soon hopes to fill.

"Be brave." I whisper back.

Currently I stand as both trainer and leader, but with more intense work piling on by the day, it was decided that a new position had to be filled. Four was the first to step up. As the top of his class I was curious of his intent at first, whether he meant malice to the new generation of Dauntless. Turns out the kid just enjoys teaching.

"Time for the tour, follow me, and don't get lost." He mutters the end with a small smirk in my direction. I return the gesture and leisurely take up the rear.

It's only moments later that we find ourselves in the training room, Eric poised in the middle of a mat.

"Welcome to Dauntless," he says, his tone devoid of its normal malice, instead seemingly shaky. 

"We'll start you out today a bit easy with a jog around the compound and then some weights. Follow me." As he speaks, he removes his jacket from his arms, the veins standing on edge as he pulls the garment away. His body tense in all the places that normally hold the cold confidence I've come to expect from him. 

Worry drops in my stomach.

Despite the clear training I've gone through, evident in the scars coating my body like a map, the Amity in me can't seem to be snuffed out.

Groaning to myself, knowing that to resolve this dread I have to bite the bullet, I make my way toward the blond. I take the lead in the front of the pack, our feet hitting pavement as we exit through a back door, eyes falling on me as the sun hits us. 

Reaching Eric with a swift clap on his shoulder, I feel his body jump beneath my fingers. His normal fluidity is gone, replaced with stiff movements.

"Are you okay?" I ask, my eyes showing more concern then they probably should considering the person I'm speaking with.

I watch as his eyebrows draw into his face, his eyes, now made into small skits, due to either confusion or anger, stare back at me.

"I'm fine." He says, crossing his arm over his body as if to stretch it. The initiates behind us following his lead, bending in every direction. "Why?" His voice is accusatory and I can't help but frown a little.

Tilting my head I stare at him, "It's okay to be nervous Eric. It's only human." My arm gently touches his in hesitant comfort, like reaching out to a wild animal.

"Dauntless aren't scared. You should know that by now." He speaks in a huff, his eyes soft in contrast to the fists he holds at his sides.

"Dauntless isn't about not being scared." I retort, my chest rising with the deep breath I take in, having already had this argument with others before. Despite my position as leader, a figurehead to the faction, many still seem to thing I know nothing of our manifesto. 

"It's about facing that fear and overcoming it, not denying it doesn't exist. Denial makes you only more of a coward."

"I am not a coward," he grounds out, clearly offended by my words. Pink touches his cheeks despite his better intentions. 

"Let's go everyone!" He screams, sprinting down our path before the words fully leave his mouth. I let the group trot past me, all in varying forms of confusion and amusement, only moving when Four reaches my side.

A rare smile touches his lips as he looks at me. "You know what you did, right?" He questions, tilting his head forward as if referencing the scene that just took place.

"It's not my fault he doesn't understand regular human emotions." I mutter, letting a small grin show none the less.

"I guess Eric doesn't like to be embarrassed," he says shrugging, pulling my arm forward, joining the groups' jogging pace.