send me ♢ for my muse to get dared to kiss yoursdivergent!au1,528 words
Nobody had ever had any doubt over Genevieve’s faction allegiances. Too selfish for Abnegation, too much of a warmonger for Amity, too deceptive for Candor, and too focused on her one area of study for Erudite, she was a Dauntless through and through. The Macanthos siblings represented a long line of Dauntlesses, though Graham and Griffin had surprised and disgusted them all by choosing Abnegation and Erudite respectively - it was just Genevieve and Gerard left, though the less said about him the better. He had come out top of his initiation training, and Genevieve’s mother wanted her to be aware that she was expected to follow in his footsteps.
That in itself had been enough to convince her to join another faction - almost. But the sun rose on Choosing Day, and she felt sick at the thought of a life in any other faction. It was a choice for her, and her alone, and the fact that it gave her mother satisfaction meant NOTHING.
There were few surprises this year. When Genevieve cut her hand and dripped her blood into the bowl, declaring herself Dauntless, the rest of her faction were on their feet whooping and stamping their feet, and the rest of those in attendance shrugged. So what, another Macanthos in Dauntless. The first time a ripple passed through the crowd, it was only a few kids later; O, for Oliver. Matthew Oliver, what was he, a baker’s kid or something? A shadow in the chaos of stamping feet around her, Genevieve only arched an eyebrow as he cut his palm with the look of steel in his jaw.
The train ride back was abuzz, the Dauntless born crowding around the newcomers. Sitting with her legs swinging from the open side of the train, she kept herself removed from the chatter; though she kept an eye on Matthew. The other newcomers weren’t entirely a surprise, with reputations for scrapping and taking stupid risks. This one, she’d heard nothing about. His smile was sweet and soft, and he looked earnestly excited to be here.
She was just thinking how he would be eaten alive in a place like this, when a voice called out that it was time to get off. The train showed no signs of slowing; the new blood cast anxious looks about. Her peers were content to stand around and watch them panic for a moment, but Genevieve had no interest in that. Weak, little bullies. Jumping off the speeding train, she landed on the balls of her feet and rolled forward. Standing to brush herself off, Genevieve almost tripped in her haste to stumble back as another figure came barrelling out to land almost on top of her. They must have jumped only seconds after they saw her leave the train.
Other figures were dismounting now, but she was still staring at the boy at her feet. Matthew. “Not bad,” she said, a frown beginning to form. She held out a hand to help him regain his feet. “Next time, roll into it. You won’t hurt your ankles so much,”. And with a stiff nod of her head, she turned to leave him. Amity-born made her uncomfortable.
Only the ten best of them would actually make it into Dauntless. The rest would be cast out to the streets, factionless. Genevieve, for her part, knew she wouldn’t be one of them. She had earned her place here the day she was born, and indeed was consistently one of the highest ranked initiates. Few of those born outside of Dauntless were leaving an imprint, but she was irritated to see Matthew’s name creeping up the list at the end of each day.
He wasn’t even that GOOD, she thought to herself, just seemed utterly uncaring of whether he got hurt. He’d kept sparring with her long after she’d broken his nose the week before. And still he was at training the next say, two black eyes and a piece of tape across his nose, and with new callouses and scars forming new continents across his knuckles all the time. When the results were being read out one evening, Genevieve had to stop herself from staring. He was far better looking with a little wear and tear.
She hadn’t even realised that anyone had seen her watching him; it was only sometimes, and only because she was impressed with his determination ( so she told herself ), until several weeks into training. The final results, and the ten that would be accepted into Dauntless, would be announced soon, and most of them had stopped caring. There was nothing to be done about it any more. Instead of falling into bed and getting an early night as they usually did, for training started early and ran late, they all sat up in their bunks whispering.
Genevieve had been trying to ignore it, not caring for the games of her peers. But they wouldn’t accept it - she was the most boring Dauntless they’d ever met, and they wouldn’t let her sit out of this one.
In the end, she relented to the sharp whispering of her name, and sat up to glower about the room. It was barely lit with a few candles casting their silhouettes into flickering life. She recognised Matthew’s by the length of his neck, but couldn’t tell who anyone else was. “Truth or dare?” A voice asked her. Genevieve threw a dirty look in the direction it came from. Was that Alessa?
She would get no peace until she relented; the easiest thing to do was to get it over with. “Dare,” she spat, the word bitter against her teeth. She wasn’t going to let them know her secrets.
“Alright,” the voice responded, “I dare you to kiss Matt,”
They paused dramatically, as though this revelation ought to shake Genevieve to her core. It didn’t, but it did have more of an effect than she would willingly show. Something akin to a twist in her gut. She told herself that she didn’t want to kiss him, but that wasn’t quite true. She just didn’t want to kiss him in these circumstances, at someone else’s bidding.
For her own sake, because nobody else could see in the half light, she rolled her eyes and rose from her bed without a word. Refusing the dare would only cause more excitement among her peers, loud as they were. His was the bed across the room from hers, and she picked her way cautiously across - none of them were terribly good at picking up their things from the floor. It felt like a long, long way until her shin brushed the thin sheets on his bed. He was sitting up, and she saw the glint of his eyes - hazy in the candlelight, and more alert than she would have thought of him.
Slowly, so as not to embarrass herself by poking him in the eye, Genevieve reached out her hands to find the edges of his face. One cheek was swollen and warm to the touch, and she felt his skin shudder just a little as her thumb brushed a cut beneath his brow. His eyes, she was startled to find, were fixed intently on hers. She could make out no expression that she knew a name for, but he didn’t break eye contact even when she stared back.
“You don’t have to, if you don’t want,” he whispered, so quiet that the rest wouldn’t hear him over their chattering and jeering. They were close enough now that the breath his words was carried on fluttered past her ear; it sent a shiver down her spine, but she found she didn’t dislike it. And his words, whether because they implied she could fail at a childish dare, or because they made her realise the truth, she knew then that she did want.
Closing the distance between their lips, Genevieve’s hands were still touching, just barely, his cheeks. His lips were soft, and she parted their plump warmth with a quiet, questioning tongue. The others around them were whooping, but Genevieve barely heard it. Matt’s hands closed around her waist; and they felt broad and strong, the callouses rasping against her shirt as he pulled her down and closer to the bed.
“You can stop now, you pervs!” Someone called, and Genevieve sighed into Matt’s mouth. His lower lip was held softly between her teeth and she didn’t want to stop, but was one moment away from letting herself fall into his bed. The kiss had barely lasted a minute, but she felt her cheeks flushed furiously from it. There was so much clamour around them that she could barely stand to look at him; it felt cheap, and insincere, to kiss with all those people watching on. He was breathing heavily, still watching her with those wide, thoughtful eyes.
It felt wrong to turn and walk away, but there was nothing left to be said between them. Genevieve nodded, and before she turned away she thought she saw his eyes crinkle up into a smile.
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“ ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS? ” –– because he’s sure as shit not.
He hovered closely next to Rachel ( hands at the ready to catch her if she stumbled ) with Matt on her other side, as they had done since she’d arrived in Naercey; unwilling to let her out of his sight for more than five minutes time. He still wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t just up and disappear, that she wasn’t some mirage he’d dreamed up from sheer force of will.
He, for one, had opted for them all to stay back in Naercey, attempting to bribe them both with how quiet the ruined city would be and promise of endless ice cream from the kitchen. He wasn’t convinced that Rachel had only wanted to go because she knew Matthew would, and above that, knew that Noah wouldn’t let him out of his sight just as much as he wouldn’t let her. If he wasn’t so goddamn nervous the idea of them banning together like they used to would have brought a nostalgic smile to his lips.
as it was, he was goddamn FUCKING nervous.
“ We should go back, guys. Really. I don’t got a good feeling about this. ”
