The Process of Losing it

I'm very pleased to announce that I have returned to yesfangirlingismylife after quite the long hiatus (One year…oops. Time flies.) from actual real stories on this account. I've been really taking my time on this story, working on it for about six months (which was hard due to sports) but I'm so glad to finally post from this account again. It feels refreshing. I'm so glad I've gotten back to my roots and improved my writing by taking my time. Thanks for all the support. Open to PMs. So much love. Should be updating every couple days. I don't like schedules.

Chapter 1: Contingency

She makes it hard for me to focus. Extremely hard. She's beautiful. And by beautiful, I mean beautiful. One could not describe her beauty. Her beauty is one I've never seen before. Yet, contrary to what I said, she is not indescribable. There are many words I can use to describe her. It is as if my brain doesn't operate when she's looking at me, or when my eyes are on her. I operate when my eyes are away from her beautiful being. What's confusing, though, is that she is both describable and indescribable. My mind always whirls at the sight of her.

My thoughts are taken away from me by the sound of a gunshot.

Then the sound of flesh hitting flesh.

She punches him in the face, and then with a kick of the foot to his skull, he is unconscious.

"Four!" she yells.

My head snaps in her direction, only to be confronted by a large man who is equal in size to me.

He throws a swing at me, but misses by a long shot. I knee him in the gut, push him to the ground, and then I knock him unconscious with my foot.

She breathes heavily. "He could've killed you, Four. You have to pay more attention. Focus."

I roll my eyes at her and then pick up the briefcase from the unconscious man. "Tris, I'm alive, aren't I?"

She crosses her arms. "You're my partner. You have to be okay."

I smile at her. "Right back at ya, Prior."

We start to make our way to the Jeep, but three more men surround us, immediately attacking.

"Take the briefcase to the Jeep, Tris!" I yell to her as I try to fight the men. I see her kick one of them one more time, then run toward the Jeep.

I'm unfocused, so the attacker gets a swing on me, right to the jaw.

One of the reasons why Tris shouldn't be my partner.

I'm not complaining though. If I have to take a few punches in order to be her partner, I'd take them all without a second thought.

I hear Tris start up the Jeep. For a split second, I get a glimpse of sand rising up into the air as the wheels spin. So far, I've been able to get two of the three too hurt to keep fighting. The last guy puts up a good fight though.

"Tris!" I yell. "If you could not leave me here, that'd be great!"

The next thing I see is Tris going forty miles an hour and whacking the guy in front of me before he can attempt get another punch in on me.

My eyes go wide when they meet hers.

I stare at her with a little smirk as I get inside the topless car. I go to say something, but she cuts me off before I can.

"Can it, Eaton," she says, chuckling.

The wind whips through her hair as she drives away, fast as can be. The Jeep is topless, and the sun beats down on our skin. It's a blazing 101 degrees out, so Tris and I dress lightly. The wind moves our hair in every which way, especially Tris's, despite her effort to put it in a messy bun while driving with her knee.

She puts on her sunglasses from the center console, and I too.

"Five bucks says there's cocaine in there," she says without looking at me.

I snort at her incredulous bet. "Then I'll be five dollars richer, because there's no drugs in this baby," I say, patting at the briefcase. "All docs. Papers, forged signatures, agreements. That kind of stuff."

"Then open it," she says, shrugging.

"Tris," I say. "The papers will go flying everywhere."

She shrugs. "I'll be five dollars poorer, then."

I unlock the case to see rows upon rows, stacks upon stacks of cocaine.

"Shit," I mumble. "How do you do that? You always know what's inside before we even open the cases. On every assignment, you know what's inside! I kid you not, every assignment."

She smirks at me. "It's what I do."

"You're going to brag about this all the way until we get back to the city, aren't you?" I groan.

"It's a long ride, darling," she says, an evil smirk planted on her face.

When we arrive back at the hotel in Cape Town, South Africa, we throw ourselves on our beds.

"Tris," I say, "the reason we were sent to apprehend the briefcase was because there was illegal smuggling into the U.S., right? I mean, obviously there's more to it, but still."

She shrugs. "That's what the case file says, so yeah."

I frown. "They're hiding something. Our boss. Our boss's boss. Our boss's boss's boss. You see where I'm going with this?"

She chuckles. "Four, it's the American government we're talking about here. Of course, they're lying."

I shake my head. "So why do I want to work for them? Why do I keep doing this? Why do I continue to work for 'the man' when I haven't the slightest idea of what's really going on?"

She shrugs once again. "You and I—we're the same. I've thought those exact questions so many times I've lost track. Another thing that's the same: we both have the urge to protect people. Dealing with the government and its secrets is a small price to pay to do what we love. Don't forget that, Four."

I groan into the much-used hotel pillow. "Stop being so logical, Tris."

She laughs. "Sorry."

I smile at her and lift my face from the pillow when she starts to speak again.

"You think we'll be home for Christmas?" Tris asks.

I shrug. "Probably not. Besides, it's not like I have anyone to go home to. I know you don't either."

"People with happy families don't become spies. A bad childhood is the perfect cover for a covert operative in the CIA. They don't trust anyone, they're used to getting smacked around, and they never get homesick. It just makes sense doesn't it?" she asks quietly.

I scratch my head. "Yeah," I say softly. "Yeah. If we aren't out on a mission, we should totally hang out on Christmas. We can just chill and watch a bunch of classic Christmas movies or something."

She grins. "Definitely. And besides," she says, "it's only October. Maybe we will get to go home."

I sigh. "Doubtful. It's a one in a million chance that we get home and actually relax for once."

"Hey, we're relaxing right now," she points out with a smirk.

I chuckle. "Not the same thing. You know," I say suddenly, "I don't even have a home. I don't have anywhere to go. I have three boxes of everything that I own. My life—My life is compacted into three boxes. Three boxes, Tris. The CIA assigned me a crazy nice apartment that I've stayed in for probably a month, total. I've had that apartment for three years. I mean… I have clothes and one sentimental thing unpacked. It's just one assignment after the next, you know?"

"I do know. I've been doing the same thing for three years. Over and over. I swear fifty percent of my life is going to be on an airplane," she says with a sad chuckle. "But hey, at least I get to travel, right?"

I smile at her. She's always goofy even in serious conversations like this. "The traveling part is pretty cool. But there's also something else you forgot."

She lists her head to the side, curious about what she could've forgotten.

"There's the perk of being with me every day of your life. I am pretty awesome," I say with a shit-eating grin.

She throws her pillow at me, laughing. "I hate you."

"Oh, come on. No you don't. We've kissed. Twice!" I say, laughing along with her.

"Four," she chuckles, "don't use that against me. We were pretending to be married."

I smile and throw the pillow at her. "Technically both kisses."

Tris only laughs. "Whatever, loser."

I jump over to her bed without touching the ground. Playfully, she screams as I jump on top of her. I throw a pillow at her, and she grabs one, throwing it with such force that it knocks me off of her and onto the floor.

Groaning on the floor, the breath is taken right out of me.

"Tris," I yell, "you little shit!"

She just laughs at me, so I grab the blankets she lays on and pull them toward the ground. She slides off the bed along with the covers, and lands just beside me. She's all wrapped up in the covers like a taco, so I pick her up, and toss her over my shoulder.

"Tobias Keith!" she yells in my ear. "Put me down!"

I shrug. "As you wish," I mumble, and then throw her down on the bed.

"Ugh!" she squeals. "You freaking imbecile."

I kindly smile at her, and she slaps me with the nearest pillow. "Love you too, Beatrice Elizabeth."

"Four, you're an asshole, you know that?"

"I've been told that once or twice before."

I look at her with lustful eyes, and I feel her eyes bore into me in return, but without the reciprocated feelings of lust.

The phone rings.

"Prior," she answers. "Yes. Coke. Okay. Why? Okay. We'll see you tomorrow."

"We fly out tomorrow now and not tonight," she says, sighing, after she hangs up.

I grab the keys. "Let's go then."

"I'm sorry?" she says, chuckling.

"Let's go on an adventure."

"An adventure," she repeats.

"Yes. An adventure."

She laughs. "Fine then. Let's go on an adventure."

As I drive, it's hard for me to focus on the road. With Tris by my side, it's hard to focus on anything. The top to the jeep is off, and her hair is whipping in the wind. Her attempts to put it up are valiant like earlier, but her hair and her personality have a lot in common; they both cannot be tamed.

That's what I love about her. The improbability is almost always there, and it is so, so important to have that. The unpredictability is almost always there. The disequilibrium is almost always there. These things are essential to being Beatrice Prior.

"What are you thinking about, Four?" she asks me as she looks me in the eye. She has that twinkling smirk that shines brighter than a bursting supernova.

"Honestly?" I ask, smirking toward her. "You."

She previously was looking down at her toes, wiggling them, but her head snaps up at me. "Excuse me?"

I laugh. "You're awesome. Like, the best partner I've ever had."

"I'm the only partner you've ever had," she points out.

"And that makes you the best," I tell her with a smile. "What I really mean, though, is that you're just really fun to work with. That's all," I say nonchalantly.

"I guess you're pretty fun too," she tells me, but quickly tries to change the subject for obvious reasons. "So where are you taking me?"

I smirk at her once again, and then say, "On an adventure, silly."

She doesn't argue or demand to know. She just shakes her head, smiling, and goes with it.

When we arrive, she isn't surprised. We could see Table Mountain from our hotel, and it was stunning. The clouds hover just above the flat plateau of the mountain, not even a little bit of snow on the flat top due to the blazing heat.

"Let's climb it," Tris says to me with wild eyes. The blue in her eyes is overwhelmingly beautiful, and her smile bigger than any I've seen before.

"Climb it?"

She shrugs. "It's only about an hour and a half to the top. And by the time we get to the top, it'll be just before sunset. It'll be beautiful, and—and—," she rants, but I soon cut her off.

"Not as beautiful as you," I say with a wink, and then start on the path to the top.

She soon follows suit, and when I look behind me, she's already allured into the nature of the trees around the path and the wildlife in the branches. Her eyes are sparkling with excitement, her hair bobbing with every step she takes, and perhaps my favorite of all these things is her smile. It's almost as exotic as her personality. Her lips cross her face far and wide, and her teeth white as a pearl. It's a genuine smile, which is the best part.

This is what Tris loves. Exploring. Going on adventures. Contingency.

Tris herself is contingent, which makes it hard for her to love and to be loved.

But love itself is contingent.