Four always had his suspicions about you specifically, but he had no fucking clue why until you completed your fear evaluation test in record time— nobody who wasn’t Divergent completed it in under five minutes, and you did it in three. That concerned him, cause if anyone found out you were Divergent, you’d be killed.

So he’d walked you straight to his quarters, letting you in while having a million thoughts in his head. Would he have to lie to Eric? Though he’d have no problem lying to that dickhead, it would be hard to do it, cause Eric was — well — Eric.

“I know.” Four hoped you’d get the hint, though it was a far bargain if you would, even if he crossed his arms and acted menacing for the sake of it. You know, interrogation tactics.

And he wasn’t doing it out of obligation, no, he did it cause he’d grown to care about you. You and the fact that you were Divergent. Your aptitude test told him instantly.

Like him.

A lot. More than he liked to admit. Four was a man of few fucking words, but all he wanted to do right now is help you and tell you what to do next, or you were fucked. “So don’t lie to me.”