“Before we sit down, he puts his mouth next to my ear and says, “I like your hair that way.”

“He pus his lips next to my ear and says, “You look good, Tris.”

“He sits next to me and puts his arm on the back of my chair, leaning close. I don't stare back -- I refuse to stare back.I stare back.”

“I’d ask you to hang out with us, but you’re not supposed to see me this way.’…‘What way?’ I ask. ‘Drunk?’‘Yeah…well, no.’ His voice softens. ‘Real, I guess.’‘I’ll pretend I didn’t.’‘Nice of you.’ He puts his lips next to my ear and says, ‘You look good, Tris.’…I laugh. ‘Do me a favor and stay away from the chasm, okay?’‘Of course.’ He winks at me.”

“I can't force you. I can't make you want to survive this." He pulls me against him and runs his hand over my hair, tucking it behind my ear. His fingers trail down my neck and over my shoulder, and he says, "But you will do it. It doesn't matter if you believe you can or not. You will, because that's who you are.”

“I try to catch my breath and calm myself down, but it isn't easy. I was dead. I was dead, and then i wasn't, and why? Because of Peter? Peter? I stare at him. He still looks so innocent, despite all that he has done to prove that he is not. His hair lies smooth against his head, shiny and dark, like we didn't just run for a mile at full speed. His round eyes scan the stairwell and then rest on my face. "What?" he says. "Why are you looking at me like that?" " How did you do it?" I say.”

“I’ll be your family now,” he says.“I love you,” I say.I said that once, before I went to Erudite headquarters, but he was asleep then. I don’t know why I didn’t say it when he could hear it. Maybe I was afraid to trust him with something so personal as my devotion. Or afraid that I did not know what it was to love someone. But now I think the scary thing was not saying it before it was almost too late. Not saying it before it was almost too late for me.I am his, and he is mine, and it has been that way all along.He stares at me. I wait with my hands clutching his arms for stability as he considers his response.He frowns at me. “Say it again.”“Tobias,” I say, “I love you.”His skin is slippery with water and he smells like sweat and my shirt sticks to his arms when he slides them around me. He presses his face to my neck and kisses me right above the collarbone, kisses my cheek, kisses my lips.“I love you, too,” he says.”