Chapter Text
The wind has started to pick up by the time we make it to Harley's hidden rooftop; we manage to find shelter from the occasional whip-like gusts by pressing our backs against a collapsed metal air-vent, giving us a completely unhindered view of the dark horizon beyond the Fence.
Harley was being a lot quieter than I was used to, as like me, he watched the faint sparks of lightning weaving away in the faraway clouds; if I hadn't been so caught up in my own mess I almost would've said something already but before I can ask what was wrong, he stretches his hand across to rest on my own and I start thinking that maybe I'd just imagined it.
"I still don't get why you like thunderstorms so much." He snorts after one particularly loud clap startles him. "They're entirely too loud!"
"They can be sometimes," I laugh as his fingers squeeze mine, "But there's just something about them, I don't know... like they can be that destructive, they have the power to level a whole city to the ground but it's like they always choose not to and we can watch the whole thing happen through warm windows; without it ever touching us."
"Your sentiment is beautiful, Amy," He grins, "But you've clearly not lived through a Dauntless power-surge when it does finally decide to zap the top of the control tower while you're tattooing a guys head!"
"I guess you're right." I laugh, barely able to even imagine it.
"I haven't been able to shake it from my fear landscape since." He adds.
"One of yours?" I ask cautiously, still hesitant to ask anyone else about them.
"One of many," He chuckles with a shudder, "I'm always stuck in a storm outside the Fence and I couldn't even tell you what's out there because there's so much lightning ripping apart the earth around me,"
I think of my own tsunami landscape, remembering so vividly the way the panic gripped at my throat.
"Bear in mind I'm no Four but out of all eight of my fears, it could almost be the worst." He snorts, just before something uncomfortable takes control of his face. "I actually heard a rumour a while ago... about your landscapes."
I shiver, pulling my cardigan closer around myself; but this time it's not because of the wind.
"Oh?" I answer without looking at him; I dreaded hearing him ask about the one Eric featured in.
He doesn't say anything at first but I hear him draw breath like he was trying to find the words.
What I didn't expect was him to lean in and kiss me.
It's not like his usual kisses which are sweet and familiar; this one was careful, like he thought either one of us might disappear the second it was over.
When he pulls away he looks even more torn and I'm already concerned; he lifts himself up to pace anxiously by the roof's edge.
"You're not in this anymore, are you Amy?" He asks unexpectedly.
"What?" I stammer, startled to my own feet now.
"You and me." He tilts his head, "I can feel it, you know."
My frown deepens as I scramble through everything I'd said since we'd been up here; I was so sure I'd kept all of my uncertainties far away from him.
"Of course I am, Harley!" I insist, feeling the tight panic rising in my ribcage.
"Then why do you still say his name in your sleep?"
I swallow guiltily.
"This is going to sound narcissistic of me, Amy but I know when I'm wanted." He shrugs, "And it usually comes down to if I want something back and I have wanted you more than anything I've ever known... but I can feel that you're not there, not in the way I want you to be."
I'm still speechless, so startled that even though I've tried so hard to hide all of my doubts from him, he'd been perceptive enough to see right through my act; I feel that familiar hurt and shame as he speaks especially as he doesn't look angry, he only looks crestfallen, hollow.
"I do really like you Harley!" I protest, "The last week has been nothing less than perfect..."
He emits a sad chuckle.
"I know you like me, Amy." He continues, "But can you ever really love me?"
This was the moment I should have said something, anything; but the way I choked for a response was all the answer he needed.
"I thought so." He smiles dejectedly. "Part of me has known for a while but I thought if I could... I thought that with time..."
He lets out a sigh as he stares down to the street below.
"No, this is my fault," I interrupt, "There's just been so much going on that I haven't been giving you the attention you deserve, I'll try harder, Harley."
"It shouldn't be about trying, Amy..." His brows pinch together as he shakes his head, "It's meant to be felt and you haven't touched me the same way since that very first night... and even then, I know you snuck out right after to rescue Eric from the bar."
I blink, he'd never given me any indication that he'd known about that; shame burns at my cheeks, heightened by the fine spattering of rain that's just started to break free from the clouds above us.
"As long as he's around," Bitterness still drips through his sad voice, "I'll never truly have you... not all of you."
I drop my eyes, his words cut against my skin like razorblades but I know they're true; I just wish he didn't.
"I really wanted this to work." I whisper.
"I know." He says gently, "But no matter how many times I try, you hurt too much Amy... and I can't take it anymore."
A heavy silence falls between us, magnifying the sound of the steadily increasing rain on the surrounding debris; there's another crack of thunder but this time he barely even flinches.
"I can't sit by and wait for you to finally choose me," His voice becomes more stern, "I'm tired of being burned."
"Harley--"
He waves a hand to stop me, taking a step away as the rain begins to soak his hair now; making it glisten under the silver sky.
"No one wanted this to work more than me, Amy... we met each other at the wrong time." He says definitively, "But we gave it a shot and now I think it's better if we just... call it."
"Like... us?" I ask.
"Yeah." He nods solemnly at the ground, "I think it'd be best for both of us."
My breath catches in my quickly tightening throat.
"I'm so sorry, Harley."
"So am I." He's trying to stay strong but he sniffs quickly before fixing his sad eyes back on me. "And I think it'd be best if we kept our distance for a while... just until I can sort myself out, until it doesn't hurt to look at you this much."
Begrudgingly I nod, sending droplets of water streaking down my face.
He wrings his hands together for another moment, still looking at me like he has more to say; but instead he drops his gaze defeatedly and walks away before I can stop him, leaving me alone on the rooftop.
I drop back against the metal vent, my head still spinning from what had just happened; allowing the rain hit my skin like a punishment.
I'd done the one thing I never wanted to do again, hurt Harley. I was on track to have everything I should have wanted and I'd sabotaged it with my own selfish indecisiveness.
The worst part was that I didn't feel upset for the reason I knew I was supposed to; Harley was right, I felt such love for him but I wasn't in love with him. The pain I felt was only for hurting his feelings rather than losing him from my life and for that, I felt like the real monster.
I knew my heart wasn't in it from the beginning but I never wanted to admit it, hoping it would just go away. Maybe Lars was right, I just had to face the truth; I was never going to love Harley because my heart had always belonged to someone else.
There's a deafening crack of thunder just as the biggest flash of lighting I'd ever seen explodes against the top of the Fence; brightening the gray sky so severely that I have to blink against it.
This was all the sign I needed; I jump to my feet and clamber over the wet concrete and metal as I make my desperate way back to the door.
My damp boots complain against the metal stairs as I rush out of the Dives as wet strands of hair tighten their way around my neck and face as I run.
I wouldn't stop for anything, so determined that I only vaguely notice when I shoulder through a group of men clustered at the mouth of a corridor; they shout after me irritably.
It felt like my heartbeat could knock me off my feet when I finally stop at that ominous door.
I bang the sleeve of my soaked cardigan against it as I pant breathlessly.
Milliseconds feel like hours until it finally swings inwards and Eric's astonished eyes find me in the hallway.
He's wearing sweatpants and his bare chest shows off the bruised scar that still decorates his collarbone; he takes one quick look at my shivering, drenched face before his own clouds in concern.
"Amelia? What's wrong?"
I know I must look absolutely crazed right now and a strained, choked laugh escapes my lips.
"You take your coffee black." I rush, "You remembered a book I held two years ago even though I bet it's one of your least favorites, you knew I was Dauntless before I even had a clue..."
"Slow down." He interrupts calmly, his big hands jump to my shoulders and his sudden touch is enough to remind me to breathe again.
He's still watching me worriedly; without another word, he wraps his arms around me and leads me into the apartment.
As soon as the door closes behind us he swiftly fetches me a towel and calmly begins to pull the soaked cardigan sleeves down my arms.
Once he drops it wetly over the back of a chair, he turns back to me with that same concerned frown.
"What's wrong?" He asks again, "Are you in trouble?"
"No I..." I stammer, distracted my the way his thumbs circle the tips of my shoulders; a soothing motion I don't even think he was conscious of doing.
"Breathe." His gentle voice commands.
"It's you." I finally manage, "It's always been you."
His brows confusingly pinch over my unexpected statement.
"Eric, I don't think I ever wanted Harley... I only did it so I could stop thinking about you," I say calmly, "About everything that's going on and the worst that you're still yet to do... but I can't pretend anymore. I can't quit you."
His frown doesn't shift as he watches me wrestle with all my words; all of my thoughts.
"I have loved you, Eric Coulter, since the night you nearly smashed my bedroom window and I snuck you into the house," I keep my voice steady despite the wobble that threatens to quake it, "And after everything I've done since Amity, since Harley, all the angry things I've said to you; I don't-- well I hope, but I don't expect you to feel the same--"
He cuts me off as his calming hands suddenly pull me firmly into him, twisting warm into my damp hair as his lips meet mine with the most intensity I'd ever experienced.
I was so wet and cold that his chest burns against me like he'd set my shirt ablaze.
I was so taken aback that I fell completely into the moment, forgetting everything that had torn me to pieces over the last weeks, the last months, the last five minutes of what I'd confessed to him.
It was just him.
Before I know it, the frame of the bed hits the back of my calves and Eric is frantically pulling at my t-shirt; just as eagerly as my hands pull him toward me; the material threatens to stick to my damp skin so I have to unlatch my desperate fingers from around his back to help free it over my head, hearing the protesting rip of fabric as it finally peels off my trapped arms.
His hand burns against my waist now as the other moves my hair aside so that his lips and teeth can meet the curve of my shoulder. I let out gasp just as he moans into the hollow of my jaw; how I'd missed that sound.
I'm grateful for the easy waistband of my leggings and his loose-fitting sweatpants as it's only seconds before he can press me into the familiar soft mattress; I have to remind myself to control my clawing hands over his wounded shoulder, though in this moment I don't think he'd even notice, as he plants hungry kisses across my chest and stomach.
Desperate for his lips again, I drag him back towards me by the sides of his face and when his eager eyes meet mine he smiles, completely oblibious to the lightning that cracks violently outside his bedroom window and flares blindingly off of our skin; he smiles at me like coming home.
The storm has finally eased as I sit back against his headboard, the covers pulled up to my chest as he passes me a steaming mug of coffee and settles back down beside me; I can smell the vanilla even before my first sip and it warms me more than the hot porcelain in my hands ever could.
"I guess I have some explaining to do." I say guiltily.
He leans an arm across the top of the bed frame, his fingers idly twisting my now dry waves as the smallest smile plays on his lips.
"Yes... but also no." He shrugs, "I'm just glad you're here."
I drop my eyes to my mug as I feel my cheeks flame.
"Well, at the very least I own you an apology."
"I don't want one right now." He smiles, his fingers reaching to stroke my cheek and I lean into them.
"I'm so sorry, Eric." I say anyway, "I did and said things that hurt you and I did them out of fear,"
He distractedly watches his hand as it coils through my hair but I know he's listening.
"When you told me what you did in Amity, I was terrified." I admit, "I felt betrayed, angry that I was going to lose you to this and all I could think to do was run away... like maybe if I wasn't around to watch it happen, it wouldn't be real."
His eyes meet mine again.
"My cowardice hurt people," I add shamefully, "You more than anyone."
He sips his coffee thoughtfully and I'm amazed it doesn't scald his throat as he sets it on the table behind him; winding his fingers around my nervous fists.
"We've all done things out of fear, Amelia." He says softly, "It's what we build from it after that matters."
"Do you think you could ever forgive me?"
The corner of his lip twitches again. "I never blamed you."
I look at him incredulously but all he did was chuckle.
"I'd delayed bringing you into the uprising for a reason," He says simply, "I knew you'd be opposed to it, particularly with my involvement... I always knew there was a strong possibility that you'd run, though where you ran to wasn't exactly what I'd anticipated..."
He pushes his hair away from his face as his eyes pensively scan the the room and I cringe guiltily.
"But I needed to let you," He looks back at me sincerely, "And all I could do was cling to the hope that once this is all over, once the city is healed and our people can have the future our founders intended... that there'd be the smallest chance you would run back to me."
I try to picture it, his world once the war ends. With only four factions and a city in the efficient, cogent hands of Erudite; once the dust settles... what would it be like?
"Then what would happen?"
"Anything you wanted." He smiles gently, "We could start again. I'd buy you the biggest house I could find, one with a view of the park... and for you, I'd fill it with every terrible mystery novel you haven't read yet and I'd get to wake up beside you every single morning."
Listening to his beautiful vision made my cheeks warm and I can't help but succumb to his infectious grin; I shift on the mattress to rest my head against his chest.
"Sounds like you'd never be able to get rid of me." I muse as my fingers trace the hollow of his sternum.
"Conveniently Amelia, that would be my objective... It'd be the beginning we should've had the first time." I can hear him smile as his arm tightens around my waist. "Stay tonight?"
I respond by twisting my neck so that my lips can meet the side of his throat; revelling when he reacts with a low, chest-shuddering purr.
The next morning I awake to the sound of a running shower; I slowly open my eyes and gradually get them to focus as I look around Eric's apartment.
One of the first things I spot is my cardigan draped over the chair, the rest of my clothes making up a breadcrumb-like trail to where I lie on the side of the bed.
My mind wanders unwillingly to Harley and I feel that familiar twist in my stomach; I know he'd decided we shouldn't talk for a while but remembering his hurt expression as he walked away from me, I vow that someday I would make it up to him.
I'm dragged from my guilt with the sound of the faucet shutting off, when I'm quickly reminded that today is Choosing day.
A short time later, Eric emerges from the bathroom already dressed in his gear.
He smiles when he catches me awake and pulls on his thick jacket a little less stiffly than the last time I'd seen.
"What time do the initiates land?" I ask, suddenly worried as to why he was up and about so early.
"Just after noon." He replies as he fastens his comms around his wrist.
"Then where are you going now?" I ask sitting up, keeping the covers pulled tightly around me under his playful gaze.
"I've got to go sign off on the net they've put up under the drop." He snorts, "Seems counter-intuitive to lose our first jumper to some mediocre fastenings, doesn't it?"
I laugh as I reach for my shirt on the ground, ignoring the torn seam at the shoulder; he notices though and tosses me a sweatshirt from his coat rack.
I pull it over my head gratefully.
"Will I see you before we have to go meet them?" I ask as I grab myself out of bed.
"I'll come get you when it's time to leave." He smiles at my exposed legs.
"Should I be worried that I don't feel nervous yet?"
"No. I find you have that same effect on me." He grins, extending his arm like a magnet for me to slide right into.
"But on a more serious note, I don't think I need to remind you how dire the training will be for this round of initiates." He continues a little less airily and I find myself already frowning, "The pressure on us right now is tremendous, so you will see me be firm with them,"
Does he mean firmer than he was with my own initiate class? I remember the incredulous way he'd watched us learn defensive manoeuvres and the ruthless spar pairings he would organise.
"There may be times where I'll overstep that line and you'll be tempted to say I'm acting cruel," He arches a brow as he looks down at me, "But I need you to remember what high standards I need them to comply to."
"Of course." I say confused and he gently hooks his fingers beneath my chin to tilt it up.
"And as my subordinate, it's important that you also hold yourself to the same calibre." He smiles, "I know you have a soft spot for the outcasts but I need you to lead by example by my side."
So he already knew I was concerned with how I'd handle asserting myself over the initiates; but I was determined not to let either of us down.
"I promise, I'll try."
"Good." He kisses the top of my head, checking his watch in the process, "I've got to go but I'll see you in two hours, grab some breakfast and get your game-face on. You're an instructor now."
It still feels so strange to hear him say it, he squeezes me quickly before he scoops up his tablet and starts toward the door.
"Oh and one more thing," He pauses with his hand on the doorknob, "Amelia Garner, I would nearly smash every window in this compound as well if it proved I loved you too."
"That seems excessive." I smile through my quickly darkening blush.
"I've told you before," He smirks challengingly as he pulls the door open and steps through, "Nothing's rational when it comes to you."
Once he's gone, I gather up my clothes; they still smell musty from where they were thrown hastily onto the cold floor the night before.
I'm lost in thoughts of a hot shower and maybe a quick laundry run as I pull the locked door closed behind me, so I don't notice when I crash right into a shoulder in the hallway.
"Sorry!" I gasp reflexively as I have to hurriedly resecure the stack of clothes in my arms but as my eyes travel up, they meet Jarrod's bemused expression.
He's on his way upstairs but he pauses to deliberately scan my bare legs, Eric's sweatshirt and the bunched up pile of clothing I clutch to my chest.
He knows he's busted me but instead of hitting me with one of his usual sarcastic remarks, he nods slowly; smirking at me once more before he continues up the hallway with his hands slung in his pockets.
I let out an embarrassed groan as I slide my key into my own front door, no doubt I'd be hearing Jarrod's wisecracks about my walk of shame later; but I was strangely touched by how approving he'd looked.
I'm determined to make a good impression the first time I see my initiates, so I thoroughly wash my hair, twist it into shape and leave it to dry down my back as I set to choosing what to wear.
I pull down my tactical jacket, the one with the reinforced elbows and shoulders like Eric had worn back when he'd swooped through my own class like some bird of prey; I was the only female instructor the transfer initiates would work with, so it was paramount to Eric's plan and my influence that I looked the part.
I'd just laced my boots when there's a knock at my door; I pick up my comms where it rests on top of Romeo and Juliet and hurry to answer it.
Eric's in the hallway, smiling crookedly when he sees me; he jerks his head up the corridor and I close the door behind me.
Our comfortable silence envelopes us restfully just like it used to as we make our way upstairs; past Max and Jarrod's apartments where he pushes open the roof access door and follows me down the short metal staircase and out into the welcome unexpected sunlight that floods the high rooftop.
Max and a few of the others are already waiting across the building top and we have to walk past the edge of the low walled-in cavity piercing into the roof, the same one that I'd jumped through just a year ago; Eric barely spares it a second glance but my eyes drop down into the pitch-black depths, trying to calculate just how many storeys they'd be falling before the net can reach up to catch them.
Max greets us warmly as we join the group, casting me a proud glance when Eric is preoccupied with his comms.
"Ninety seconds out!" Someone calls and the group turns to face the tracks in unison.
Eric steps up onto the brick ledge that separates us from the hole in the roof, as if to really prove just how little concern he had for heights; balancing effortlessly as he folds his hands in front of him.
In the distance, a train horn roars and a ripple of excited chatter falls across the group.
"Amelia?"
Eric's voice is so low I'm certain it's meant only for me, I look up at him and he meets my eyes with that same compelling smile; causing my heart to skip a beat.
"You ready?"