“You don't have to,' I say. 'You are normal. You have a job with tenure. You have Lucia and this house.' I cannot say the rest that I think, that he is easy in his body, that he sees and hears and tastes and feels what others do, so his reality matches theirs.”

“Do you think I'll ever have a real life?""Define real.""You know... a job, a family, a house, stuff like that.""Is that what you want?""I don't know. I used to think the idea of normal was awful, but maybe that was just because I never thought I could have it.”

“You have the most contact with Packard.""No, I don't.""Yes, you do," they say in unison."You just saw him," Helmut says."He had to deliver some gloves to me," I explain.Helmut raises an eyebrow. "And he couldn't have sent them with one of his people?"I don't answer. I'm thinking about those pretty gloves, clearly chosen to match that specific dress of mine. So thoughtful. Did he pick them out himself?Helmut snorts. "And what was he wearing?""A dinner jacket," I say, "but just to blend in with the crowd.""And did you share any food or beverage-""It wasn't a date."Simon tips his glass into his mouth and chews ice loudly."It wasn't a date.”

“He wanted you to be the small, quiet girl from Abnegation," Four says softly. "He hurt you because your strength made him feel weak. No other reason."I nod and try to believe him."The others won't be as jealous if you show some vulnerability. Even if it isn't real.""You think I have to pretend to be vulnerable?" I ask, raising an eyebrow."Yes,I do." He takes the ice pack from me, his fingers brushing mine, and holds it against my head himself. I put my hand down, too eager to relax my arm to object. Four stands up. I stare at the hem of his T-shirt.Sometimes I see him as just another person, and sometimes I feel the sight of him in my gut, like a deep ache."You're going to want to march into breakfast tomorrow and show your attackers they had no effect on you," he adds, "but you should let that bruise on your cheek show, and keep your head down."The idea nauseates me."I don't think I can do that," I say hollowly. I lift my eyes to his."You have to.""I don't think you get it." Heat rises into my face. "They touched me."His entire body tightens at my words, his hand clenching around the ice pack. "Touched you," he repeates, his dark eyes cold."Not...in the way you're thinking." I clear my throat. I didn't realize when I said it how awkward it would be to talk about. "But...almost."I look away.He is silent and still for so long that eventually,I have to say something."What is it?""I don't want to say this," he says, "but I feel like I have to.It is more important for you to be safe than right, for the time being. Understand?"His straight eyebrows are drawn low over his eyes. My stomach writhes, partly because I know he makes a good point but I don't want to admit it, and partly because I want something I don't know how to express; I want to press against te space between us until it disappears.I nod. "But please,when you see an opportunity..." He pesses his hand to my cheek,cold and strong, and tilts my head up so I have to look at him. His eyes glint. They look almost predatory. "Ruin them."I laugh shakily. "You're a little scary, Four.""Do me a favor," he says, "and don't call me that.""What should I call you,then?""Nothing." He takes his hand from my face. "Yet.”

“Owl,' said Rabbit shortly, 'you and I have brains. The others have fluff. If there is easy thinking to be done in this Forest - and when I say thinking I mean thinking - you and I must do it.”

“He shook his head. "The next time I hear a women going on about how neurotic men are, I'm going to remember this. You tell me you like my body, and what do I say? I say, thank you. Then I tell you I like yours and what do I hear? A long lists of grievances.”