“Don't worry about it. He's just moody because it's been about nine months since he's gotten laid, and he thinks I'm going to get some tonight."I almost choked on the pancakes.Oz put his hand on his belly and looked down. "Don't make that face." He tried unsuccessfully to keep himself from laughing. "I know it's not happening. Besides, I don't you well enough yet. You could be scary."I forced the uncooperative bite of pancake down my throat. "You think I'm scary?" I squealed. "I hope you realize this is coming from the guy who said he wasn't human.”

“Sage," he said. "What are you wearing?"I sighed and stared down at the dress. "I know. It's red. Don't start. I'm tired of hearing about it.""Funny," he said. "I don't think I could ever get tired of looking at it.”

“Some of these guys will go on walking long after the laws of biochemistry and handicapping have gone by the boards. There was a guy last year that crawled for two miles at four miles an hour after both of his feet cramped up at the same time, you remember reading about that? Look at Olson, he's worn out but he keeps going. That goddam Barkovitch is running on high-octane hate and he just keeps going and he's as fresh as a daisy. I don't think I can do that. I'm not tired -not really tired- yet. But I will be." The scar stood out on the side of his haggard face as he looked ahead into the darkness "And I think... when I get tired enough... I think I'll just sit down”

“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.”

“That I wasn't mad at you. Can't you see that Bella?" He was suddenly intense, all trace of teasing gone. "Don't you understand?""See what?" I demanded, confused by his sudden mood swing as much as his words."I'm never angry with you - how could it be? Brave, trusting . . . warm as you are.""Then why?" I whispered, remembering the black moods that pulled him away from me, that I'd always interpreted as well-justified frustration - frustration at my weakness, my slowness, my unruly human reactions . . .He put his hands carefully on both side of my face. "I infuriate myself," he said gently. "The way I can't seem to keep from putting you in danger. My very existence puts you at risk. Sometimes I truly hate myself. I should be stronger, I should be able to-"I placed my hand over his mouth. "Don't."He took my hand, moving it from his lips, but holding it to his face."I love you," he said. "It's a poor excuse for what I'm doing, but it's still true."It was the first time he'd said he loved me - in so many words. He might not realize it, but I certainly did.”

“You were just worried about me." An exhale, relieved that I had understood. "Yeah"I turned. "Because you think I'm worth it"He put his fingers under my chin. "I absolutely think your worth it.""But you don't think you are."His mouth opened. Shut."That's what this is about, Derek. You won't let us worry about you because you don't think you're worth it. But I do. I absolutely do.”