𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 [𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 - 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭]

6 | The Dauntless Thing

        — SO, THIS WASN'T THE FIRST TIME VEGA HAD BEEN NAKED IN A LARGE GROUP OF PEOPLE. There were the obvious reasons: he wasn't born with clothes, for one. But, more commonly, Amity didn't think clothes were all that necessary. Connecting with nature and being in the state you were born in was a whole big thing in his old faction. It was an Amity tradition to all bathe together in the mineral-rich waterhole every now and then to further their sense of unity. Some of his favourite memories were of him crashing around in the dark cyan water, feet sliding against the sand and stone floor as he chased his cousins in a game of tag. He and Leander would float on their backs and watch the sunset during sweltering summer nights, and those days where his class had been excused of field duties to enjoy the sun and feel blessed to have all they did: the soil, the grass, the breeze, each other. Those were probably the only occasions where everyone forgot to be intimidated by him and he could actually bond with his fellow teens. It was the gift of the waterhole, hidden by the trees on the very edge of their borders, so surrounded by nature that you could pretend the city and walls and anything beyond all that didn't exist. He loved those memories. So he'd never had any problem with being naked around other people — it always meant good things.

        Changing in the Dauntless compound, surrounded by non-Amities — strangers that hadn't been raised with kindness and peace as their key beliefs — was much more unpleasant.

        He, Leander, and some other, braver initiates had opted for very brief, freezing cold showers before they changed into their newly appointed clothes. Vega avoided eye contact with everyone, even when one of the ex-Erudites — Will, Vega recalled him introducing himself as — began to ramble on. He was nattering about how their new living quarters had to be unethical, or in the very least, unsanitary. Vega only supplied a quick "People identify differently, there's no point in separating us when we're all on a spectrum." As he towelled off.

        The towel went around his waist, and he stumbled as he walked past the first jumper and her friend. Marilyn snickered at him from her bed beside his, and Leander teased from the other side, "Such a gentleman." (Pronounced in the very Amity-esq way they both spoke, "gen'el'mun").

        Vega only shook his head, refusing to remove his hand from his eyes until he was fairly certain he was facing the wall. When he dropped his hand, he dropped his towel too, and stepped into his boxers hastily. Marilyn whistled, eyeing his behind with a smirk on her face. She offered a wink and a comical bite of her lip, and he knew then she was joking. The underwear were a little too tight though: he realised with a blush.

        "Even your ass is muscled." Leander whined. "First time you've ever complained about it." He mumbled, laughter in his voice as he shimmied into a pair of black trousers. They had rougher material on the knees — these were also too snug on his skin.

        "Nothing fits me." His voice was a little fed-up as he pulled the long-sleeve black muscle shirt on. It had a wide neck and exposed his collarbones and the edges of where his skin suddenly became a blushed ivory over his left pectoral. He'd never worn something so dark before, and found it made his vitiligo look quite startling and severe. The monochrome clothes only highlighted his two-toned skin and algae green eyes.