Summary

Tris is engaged to Four, but is in love with Eric. Eric loves her as well. Short one shot. Inspired by the song All I Ask by Adele. Though it changed a lot as I started writing.

"You're going to go through with it." It's a statement; not a question. It's said in an incredulous tone of voice, the speaker unable to comprehend why this is happening to him.

"It's too late to back out now," she replies, her face set firmly in a blank mask.

She's so wrong. This entire situation is wrong. She can't tie herself to someone she knows she doesn't really love. Yet here they are, standing in her room, crumbling to pieces because what they have isn't enough. It's not enough to fix this nightmarish scenario. His love isn't worth enough to have her choose him over a man she no longer cares for. The caresses behind closed doors, the whispered promises pledged in the dead of night mean nothing now.

"You don't love him," he insists stubbornly.

Her eyes close, hiding her dark green eyes from his view. "I care for him. It's enough."

She's lying. To herself, to him, to the world. "You're deluding yourself," he snarls.

"Eric, don't do this," she pleads, spinning away.

He wishes she would face him. He knows she's better than this cowardly shell of a person she's taken to imitating. She's willing to toss their relationship away, toss him away for the sake of appearance. To hell with feelings as long as no toes are stepped on.

"Don't what? Don't fight for you?" he demands loudly, grabbing her arm roughly, effectively preventing her from running away. "Don't fight for us? You love me!" he yells in her face, hoping to shake some sense into her.

Fear and anger spin a sticky web in her eyes. She jerks out of his hold easily enough, stepping back several feet. "Yes, I love you, but I'm marrying Tobias. I'm sorry, Eric, but that's the way it is."

Her gaze turns cold, any feelings she might be struggling with are concealed by a carefully neutral expression. He gazes back, his eyes steadily cataloging her stiff posture, her clenched hands, and her tightly pressed mouth. He sees she's not going to listen to anything he has to say. She's closed herself off to him, unwilling to break down the walls protecting her heart. She's made her decision, and its not him.

"So that's it," he murmurs, staring at a point just above her head.

"I'm sorry," she says, her voice trembling the slightest bit in the face of what's she's about to lose.

His laugh is bitter and unforgivably watery. He's not going to break down, he insists to himself, knowing he doesn't have much of a choice. He gave his heart away months ago, and the caretaker is currently squeezing it in her clenched fists mercilessly.

He's losing the thing he holds most dear. She's the one thing he doesn't think he can stand to lose, but he has no control over her. He can't make her break it off with Four. He can't make her choose him, no matter how much he wishes he could.

He used to think love was for the foolish, for the naive who thought they could love without getting burned. Now, he thinks love is for the strong because only a strong person can love and get burned and still keep breathing after it's all over.

The desire to keep breathing is the key, and he knows that once he walks out of her life, his ability to breathe will lessen considerably. Already, his heart is pumping overtime to actually get any oxygen into his lungs.

"I hope you have a fantastic life," he tells her, meaning it more than she might believe.

This is goodbye. He's not sticking around to watch her settle for less than what she could easily have if she would only reach out and take it for her own.

"Thank you," she replies, crossing her arms around herself defensively. She's done it enough in the past for him to know it means she's feeling a little lost.

Nodding tightly, he leaves, the closed door an effective obstacle separating them. The clicking sound gives the air surrounding him a sense of finality, making what just happened seem as real as it was. Throughout their encounter, he could halfway believe he was having a bad dream, but now...now he knows he's 100% awake.

Dazed, he strides down the hall, reaching his room in seconds. Shutting himself into his apartment, he slides to the floor, hunched over with his head between his knees. His hands pound the floor uselessly. Feeling out of control, he slams his head back into the door, doing it again when the pain isn't great enough for him to feel anything. He needs to feel something, anything. He's got to know that he's not completely broken by Tris' rejection.

All he knows is that he's alone again.

He knows that he loves her. Too much probably.

He knows he needs her.

He knows he's never going to have her.

Because he wasn't enough.