*this is a disclaimer. I'm just a girl making stuff up and making no money from it.*

A/N: Sorry I took so long, I just had so many ideas between this and my other stuff. It was hard to get through them. It's not my favorite part of the series, but you guys will hopefully like it.

I got a question earlier this week - I can't remember from who and I'm lazy to go back and check - about the series and why it seems centered around Eric a lot. And the answer is: I do it on purpose. Eric is sort of the main character here. Lol. He may not be all over in person, but he's always being mentioned. He doesn't get enough love. I feel like Veronica had a chance to make him a complex character with a life and history outside of Dauntless initiation, and she chose not to do it and killed him off. So let me tell you this, I will not be doing that. Hah.

Tris stared at Four, studying the hardened expression on his face. He was holding her hand, silently begging her to clasp on to it with the same strength and longing he was holding on to hers with. They sat on the pire rooftop, just gazing at the dilapidated city buildings below them like they always seemed to do. But unlike before, the air between them was thick and heavy over them - the atmosphere felt like it was full of Tris's secrets. She bit her lip and looked down at their hands, telling herself to wrap her timid hand with his strong one, but she couldn't. It would be a lie. And she couldn't lie any longer.

She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped short when he looked over at her. Four shook his head, looking down on the city below them. "Don't say it yet, don't tell me."

He knew already, but she wouldn't say so.

Tris felt tears prick the corners of her eyes, forcing her to squeeze her lids closed. She wouldn't cry - she felt it would be an admission of guilt, and she could honestly say what she was doing with Eric didn't feel wrong. So how could it be bad, and why should she have felt guilty?

"I work in the control room, Beatrice." Four said. Saying her birth name made him feel in control - like he could remind her where they were from and inevitably remind her that they should be together. "I've known about it from the beginning."

Tris pulled her hand away, defensively taking a step away from the edge. If he saw everything, he could have been the one who held her and comforted her. And he chose not to be. "That's not my name." She retorted lamely, a quiet, soft voice was the only sound she could offer. "That's not me anymore."

He looked at her. "You may have changed your name, but you were still that girl from Abnegation."

"No." Tris argued, her cheeks growing warm, despite the chill of the wind hitting them both. "I'm Tris."

"You want to be." Four retorted calmly, holding back his rage. "That's where this's coming from, isn't it?" He sighed, leaning his forearms on the ledge of the rooftop. He looked away from her, running a hand through his golden brown hair.

"Being with Eric was never about proving I wasn't the same person from before I got here." Tris paused, realizing she had named Eric for the first time - to her, acknowledging him meant she was acknowledging the end of her relationship with Four. It was a weight that had been lifted.

"Then what was it?" Four's voice rose for the first time. He could feel his anger in his chest - fueling him. "Did I do something that would push you to him of all people?"

Tris scoffed despite herself. "It wasn't about you either." Tris snapped hotly. She felt herself getting angry, the need to defend her relationship with Eric was becoming more and more apparent to her. And she didn't like it. She and Eric were the simplest, purest, least complicated thing in her life, and she would be damned if she let anyone - including Four - insult it. Eric got enough of that from everyone else. And she'd go to her grave defending whatever they were. It wasn't about or because of anyone - it was unintentional and by accident. She literally got drunk and crashed at his place. What happened after in the following days were completely unplanned. They were far from perfect, conventional, or ideal to other people's views on what formed a regular couple - but that's why she was determined not to care.

"So what was it?" Four asked, turning to her. He advanced toward her, towering over her with an intensity that would scare anyone else. Tris squared her shoulders and raised her chin, not giving in to her urge to push him back or answer the question.

"Tell me." His voice was low and full of longing. His anger was gone and he was pleading for an answer. She didn't respond.

He grabbed her by her chin, pressing his lips to hers. He poured everything he hand into the kiss. But her lips didn't move with his, her hands didn't grab onto him like they'd done before. Tris pushed him away - forcing a sound at the disconnecting of their lips. She narrowed her eyes and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. "Don't."

"You felt nothing?" Four yelled, turning from her. He covered his face with his hands, the racing of his mind was too much. He was going to explode. Seeing her sneaking in and out of Eric's room was different then being in front of Tris and hearing her confirm it. He could explain and compartmentalize the video footage. He couldn't do the same when she was telling him it was true.

He looked back at her and she shook her head, her lips pressed in a thin line. She couldn't find the words to say what she was feeling. She was overwhelmed - angry and confused. She didn't know why she wasn't upset about breaking things off with Four - but rather, she was upset with his almost manic reaction.

"You and I were done before we started." Tris muttered, and he knew she was right. He just didn't want to believe it.

It was his ego that was keeping him away from acceptance. She couldn't leave him for Eric. Not that monster. "He's going to hurt you, and you won't be able to blame anyone else but yourself."

Tris exclaimed - sounding her age for the first time in a long while. She couldn't find the words to express her frustration. He wasn't understanding her - or he just simply wasn't listening. Four refused to acknowledge that Eric wasn't to blame.

They just weren't compatible, and she was tired of pretending that they had been.

Tris was just exhausted by the conversation. She had to get away.

"Well, I guess that's it then." Tris said, coldly staring at him. She turned on her heel, trying her hardest not to stomp off like a petulant child.

She didn't make out what he said after she disappeared down the stairs of the emergency exit. She just listened to her feet hitting the metal grate, clangs resonating in her ear drums until she got to Eric's floor.

Tris just sat there for a while, her back pressed to his door. It was just past sunset, early in Dauntless time. She knew he was probably still working, looking over initiation records, scores, and fear landscapes - and the ever growing list of complaints. She knew where he kept his extra key, but she needed to see him when he was coming toward the door. If she didn't say what she needed to, as soon as she saw him, she'd lose her nerve.

The same thought had been bothering her. He hadn't kissed her yet. And it was frustrating beyond belief. They had built an emotional connection, but she found herself craving a physical one. It was so unlike her to want that form of intimacy, but she felt it was the next best step - hugs and forehead kisses weren't enough anymore. They weren't friends, she knew that, they were closer than that. They were almost too familiar and comfortable for the label of friendship. It was a complex and foreign concept, but comparable to her other friendships in a way that showed the many differences between what was normal for friends.

Even if it was all bullshit she made up in her head at the end of the day; She still wanted a kiss. It would either prove her right or prove her wrong. And either way, with whatever outcome, she'd be satisfied because she didn't keep it in.

Tris stared down the hallway, casually flicking looks into the security cameras that were supposed to be inconspicuous. She wondered if Four had wandered back to work with the purpose of watching.

Eric quietly made his way to his door and her. He looked down at her curiously before following her line of sight. His mood dropped five points when he realized what she was looking at. "I saw him in the elevator. He's going back to his apartment." Eric spoke flatly, assuming that she was worried. Doubt had started to creep into the back of his mind recently and he was waiting for her to tell him that she didn't even like him anymore, much less cared about him. He told himself that would be easier anyway.

Tris snapped her attention to him, clumsily pulling herself to her feet. As she stood in front of him, her back to his apartment door, she looked him in the eyes. She swallowed the lump in her throat, her voice had momentarily gotten stuck in the pit of her gut.

Eric waited in anticipation as she stepped closer - invading his bubble.

"I-" Tris started, "I did it."

He looked at her like he had no idea what she was talking about, "Did what?" He took his keys from his pocket and leaned forward, just brushing past her and going through the apartment door. "Why didn't you just use the key?"

She stood in the doorway, and watched him kick off his shoes and disappear into his kitchen. Tris followed after him, closing the door behind herself. "Because - I didn't - I wanted to-"

"Wanted to what?" He asked, opening his refrigerator - his actions were off putting, like he was trying to distract her from what she wanted to say. Tris watched him wearily as he pulled out ingredients that were needed to make a sandwich. She found herself thinking back to a time in her life when all of the extra meat and cheese slices would have been considered indulgent. She wondered if her mother would tell her that her relationship with Eric was too.

She watched him build his sandwich. He washed a tomato and waited for her to reply to his question. Slicing off two rings from the tomato, he waited - he was agitated by the silence.

"You wanted to what?" He asked again, this time, moving around her to grab a sharper knife and a plate. He cut the sandwich in two and offered her half - he was only eating because he had to, and not because he was particularly hungry. Sometimes he had so much on his mind, he'd forget to take care of himself.

Tris sighed as he started eating, grabbing the sandwich away from him and sliding the plate across the table. "I'm trying to talk to you."

Eric leaned on his elbows, holding the sides of his own face. His eyebrow quirked when he looked at her. She likened it to something very canine like - a curious puppy. His face showed all of his emotions - a lot of them displayed in his brows or on his mouth. Tris could see his level of frustration rising.

"So talk." He shrugged and stood back, crossing his arms, closing himself off.

"What's the matter?" Tris asked, changing the subject from what she had in her head - worry kicked in, sending her nurturing nature into overdrive.

He turned and leaned against the sink, his knuckles squeezing the edges. "Nothing."

Tris knew he wasn't telling the truth - his evasive behavior was beginning to wear on her. "You don't have to tell me, but you don't have to lie and say you're okay either."

"I didn't say I was okay." He snapped harshly and lowly, making her jump. The expression on her face - wide eyes and slack jaw - made his eyes soften. "Sorry." He sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

Eric didn't know how to tell her he was afraid of his rapidly multiplying feelings for her. He didn't know how to tell her about what he'd been through with people he trusted or all of his loss. And it made him angry. Not at her, but at himself. He could tell she was tired of it and would soon be fed up. He didn't know if he would be relieved or miss her if she just decided that she didn't want him.

He held out his hand for her and she took it. Her other palm rested on his arm. He pulled her in and put his forehead on hers - like they'd done before. They shared a long breath. She knew he needed a break.

Tris ran her hands up his shoulders and to the junction where his neck met his ears, "Eric?"

"Hm?"

She opened her eyes and took in his calm, resting face. "Kiss me."

Eric's breathing hitched - he stopped breathing all together. It was as if his body had even forgotten how to convert carbon dioxide to oxygen in the first place. All the doubt came creeping in, and his fears came to the forefront.

Eric kissed the corner of her mouth, ignoring the electricity he felt - denying the urge to really kiss her even when she showed that she craved more. He disentangled himself from her.

Tris was astonished and her pride was bruised. "That's not what I meant." She muttered lamely, as if ashamed.

"I know." Eric looked back at her, and from the look on her face, he could tell he was breaking her resolve to even speak to him. He knew she'd be gone soon. And he knew that he was actively pushing her away. But he hadn't been thinking clearly before when they decided to do this. He hadn't remembered that he was bad for her. She didn't need the extra risk or complication he added to her life.