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notasthinkasyoudrunkiam · 4 months ago

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“You wanna know why you couldn’t win?”

Mia sighed impatiently. “Sure.”

He shook out his hands and stretched his arms while he spoke. “You’re too focused on what your opponent is doing, rather than what you’re doing. Find some emotion and use it.” He held up his fists and nodded at her to do the same.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Mia said, too mentally drained to filter her speech. “I can’t fight you like this.”

Her jaw was screaming, and she was getting fidgety knowing blood was staining her hands. Eric didn’t budge.

“I don’t care.”

Exasperation clouded her judgement and she rolled her eyes, making a move to step off the platform.

“You leave, you’re out.”

You’ve got to be joking.

Mia froze, gritting her teeth and clenching her swelling fists. Slowly, she turned again to face him. The question of ‘Why me?’ was on the tip of her tongue, but she already knew the answer to that.

The pain and frustration was pushed down to a deep place as her fighting mindset switched on.

Her vision narrowed so all that she could focus on was her opponent. Eric, like Peter, was bulky and strong, yet she didn’t worry; she could beat him with speed, assuming she had any left. Weak spots? Other than the usual ones, he didn’t seem to have any. Fighting style? She’d have to wait until he--

She barely evaded his swing at her face, ducking just in time. A yank of her hair pulled her back, causing her to yelp and forcing her to quickly twist and elbow him away. The motion hurt her aching body, but she ignored the pain, desperate to regain balance. Once he let go, she jumped back, cursing under her breath.

Again, he lurched forward with an uppercut, but Mia side-stepped and aimed at his jaw. He swiped it and grabbed both her shoulders, kneeing her abdomen and her sides. She tried to fight off his grip but his strength was no match for her heavy arms. She was close to getting winded before she finally twisted out of his hold, kneeing his side in return and stumbling back to regain her strength, wheezing at the pain in her stomach. Eric didn’t seem fazed.

“Fight the pain.” He waited a few seconds for her to catch her breath.

The frustration and determination pushing through her screaming body brought back the heavy breaths. The ones laced with tongues of fiery anger, that spoke in furious whispers. She faced her opponent again, fists at the ready.

“Stop playing defense,” Eric growled, holding his arms out wide. “Hit me.”

It would’ve been an easy hit, but Mia was hesitant. She moved closer, watching him like a hawk. Eventually, he huffed and aimed his fist at her stomach, at which she jumped back instantly. He continued to advance and Mia scrambled to the side, dodging at his attempts. His annoyance was becoming more evident in his faster swings, but Mia kept her attention peaked. Finally, she swiped one of his hits, striking him in the nose, but he grabbed her retracting forearm, pulled it to the side and uppercutted her chin. An instant pang, black spots enclosing her vision and clearing again. Mia scurried away to recover.

“That was pathetic,” Eric stated flatly.

Fucking bastard. I’m going to fucking kill him. That son of a bitch-

“It’s not how I fight,” Mia argued in between panting, restraining the curse words she wanted to unleash.

“It should be. You can analyse your opponent all you want, but you’re never going to win if you don’t attack.”

Usually she’d appreciate the advice, but all it did was hurt her pride. Full of fury, Mia stalked over to him, fist at the ready. Ensuring she was light on her feet, she struck at his temple, and even though he caught it, she didn’t care. Using his balance, she drove her knee into his abdomen. Her ribs got slammed, but she sucked in the pain, remained upright and jabbed him in the throat. Ignoring the strangled sound he made, she aimed again at his temple.

This time, he backed away, holding his head. Mia allowed herself to breathe again, the need for air having escaped her. She watched Eric, waiting for his command.

He complimented through, she assumed, the pounding in his head. “Better.”

Mia nodded, understanding what he meant. When she fought normally, she was critical and logical, operating according to her opponent. She needed to take initiative, deliver her own attacks, force them to play by her rules instead of playing by theirs. And she did that best when she was angry, apparently.

“I have a feeling you let me win that one,” Mia said, half joking.

He gave her an arrogant shrug. “Maybe. But even after just fighting, you’re better than most here. You’re fast.”

“Thanks,” she said. But she was still pissed off that she’d been threatened into proving herself. “You’re not as good as I thought you were.”

He raised an eyebrow, stepping towards her. “Really?”

“Yeah. Your reaction time is slower than I expected and you use your fists too much, and even if you were ‘going easy’, all of your moves were predictable.” She watched him brush off her comments with a shake of the head. To ease the tension, she shrugged. “Just saying.”

“What makes you think you can talk to me like that?”

Uh oh.

Was he playing her? Another test of some sort? The pain in her limbs started dissipating, being replaced with a tingling anticipation. Maybe she had gone too far. If she was being honest, she might have had the same reaction if she had his authority. Her pride was precious to her.

He crossed his arms and stepped towards her. Mia drew in a breath. In spite of how menacing he wanted to appear, the twinkling in his eyes hadn’t faded.

Mia sighed. “I don’t know. I’m tired. Or stupid.”

Maybe that was what he wanted to hear?

He narrowed his eyes. “Or brave.” Then, a small smile tugged at his mouth. “Or stupid.”

The rolling of her eyes led her gaze to her hands, red marks splayed across her palms. Her mouth went dry.

“At the rate you’re going, you’re likely to be heading to the top three of your class. Maybe even two if you do well against Edward. I can’t say much about the Dauntless borns but-”

“I should go.”

Eric stopped mid speech, noticing her discontent. He peered down at her hands by her sides that she had seemed so disquieted by.

The thought of the blood had overtaken Mia’s mind, allowing Eric to seize her hand with ease.

She seemed surprised at first, wanting to pull back but he had a firm grip. He inspected her palm and then turned her hand over. At that point she averted her gaze, which she was sure he noticed. She knew what was there anyway. Her blood stained knuckles, bruises disguising but not fully blocking the sight of the gruesome substance and its metallic, sickly aroma. Beads of sweat that had gathered on her forehead now trickled down her temples.

Eric, of course, wasn’t bothered by the sight, nor her reaction. As soon as his grip relaxed, she pulled her hand back, avoiding his eyes in shame.

Mia turned and jumped down from the platform, her legs miraculously still able to function properly.

“Mia,” he called. “You’re smart, but don’t underestimate your strength.”

Neither friendly, nor arrogant. He was cold and unfeeling, but as Peter had said, she was his favourite.

She smiled at him thinly, and headed out the door, his advice echoing over the thought of her tainted hands.

Feverbreak

#ao3 #fanfic #divergent #eric coulter #original character #divergent series #feverbreak

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notasthinkasyoudrunkiam · 4 months ago

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Mia swallowed the last of her drink. She’d been taking small sips, conscious of her last experience, and her focus on Vicki’s conversation was slipping in and out. They were standing in the kitchen, Mia leaning against the bench while Vicki chatted to another Dauntless girl. Mia thought her name might have been Jillian, though Malachi’s screaming had drowned out most of her introduction. Putting down her empty bottle, Vicki glanced her way.

“Make sure the seal isn’t broken when you go for your second. You can’t be too careful.”

Mia nodded, but she knew one had been enough. It was tasty, but she preferred to be one of the few that would remember that night.

Someone entered the kitchen, a tall boy with black hair, and sauntered over to the fridge.

“Hey,” Peter said, as he pulled out a can. Mia guessed it was beer. “You’re alive.”

His curls seemed darker – or was it just the lighting? – which complemented his black button-up and smart trousers. He’d been here for a while, she guessed; beads of sweat dripped down his face, and when he cracked open his can, he took a long swig, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. His biceps shifted as he leant against the fridge door, then he pushed his sleeves up his forearms. The silver of his belt glinted, and the image of her blade sticking out of that man’s neck flashed in her mind. Its silver had glinted then, too.

“You sound surprised.”

“Eric had us looking until midnight, just so you know.”

There was contempt in his voice. Mia swallowed. She was ashamed of having reacted so impulsively, nearly compromising the entire squadron. But then again, she hadn’t been in the right state of mind to comprehend what had happened.

Mia looked at the ground for a while, conflicted over whether she wanted him to leave or stay. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It shouldn’t have been on you to clean up my mess.”

Peter took another long sip, then fixed his gaze on something across the room. “I’d never seen Eric so angry when he realised you were missing.”

Mia pictured Eric’s expression when he’d burst into his apartment the previous night. He’d been livid. It pained Mia to contemplate what he might have done if she hadn’t apologised, if she hadn’t submitted or obeyed orders like he’d wanted. But then his words echoed in her mind.

I don’t want to hurt you, Mia. I want all of you. I want all of you to be mine.

How much of that was true? The way she thought it meant could be different in Eric's own twisted way…

Mia went silent. Guilt and (she hated to admit it) fear ate her from the inside. Peter broke his distant gaze, fixing it on her. He looked her up and down, then stepped closer, resting his hand on the bench she was leaning on, as if blocking her from an exit. She smelled the alcohol on his breath, and she crossed her arms, her fingers squeezing her biceps.

“Want some?” Peter held up his beer, but Mia shook her head. He took another swig, then crushed the aluminium in his fist, discarding it on the bench. He exhaled. “Where did you go?”

Mia watched him carefully as she spoke. “I went to the bathroom to wash the blood from my hands.”

Peter reacted as if he hadn’t heard her fully. “I checked every bathroom and never saw you.”

Mia shrugged, her fingers gripping tighter to keep them from shaking. “Maybe you missed me.”

Peter clenched his jaw, then ran his tongue over his teeth. “How was your sim?”

“It was… good.” She hated to admit that he was frightening her. “I’m getting better. How was yours?”

“Good.” Mia saw that his blinking was slow, and he fidgeted restlessly. Peter sniffed, then cleared his throat. “Not a fan of cockroaches, but jumping into the ocean seems to do the trick.”

“Cockroaches?”

“Yeah.” Peter chuckled. “You know, I’d sleep better if you came back to the dorms.”

That was like a punch in the gut. Eric’s words echoed in her mind (He wants you, Mia), as well as the memory of choking on his fingers. Mia went quiet. "I'll think about it."

The mirth in his tone turned to venom. “No, you won’t.”

Mia looked at him, her cheeks burning. Peter opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it, scoffing instead. Then he walked away, never sparing her another look. He joined Travis, Jemima from the piercing studio, and some others across the room that Mia didn't recognise. They patted him on the back as he entered their circle. Mia’s stomach felt heavy. He seemed to be the only one annoyed by what had happened. Everyone was acquainted enough with Eric’s nature, but Peter had always been vindictive.

He wants you, Mia.

Not anymore he doesn’t.

Feverbreak

#ao3 #fanfic #divergent series #divergent #peter hayes #my writing #feverbreak

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