“I have only one memory of getting here, and even that is just a single image: black ink curling around the side of a neck, the corner of a tattoo, and the gentle sway that could only mean he was carrying me.He turns off the bathroom light and gets an ice pack from the refrigerator in the corner of the room. As he walks toward me, I consider closing my eyes and pretending to be asleep,but then our eyes meet and it's too late."Your hands," I croak."My hands are none of your concern," he replies. He rests his knee on the mattress and leans over me,slipping the ice pack under my head. Before he pulls away,I reach out to touch the cut on the side of his lip but stop when I realize what I am about to do, my hand hovering.What do you have to lose? I ask myself. I touch my fingertips lightly to his mouth."Tris," he says, speaking against my fingers. "I'm all right.""Why were you there?" I ask, letting my hand drop."I was coming back from the control room. I heard a scream.""What did you do to them?" I say."I deposited Drew at the infirmary a half hour ago," he says. "Peter and Al ran. Drew claimed they were just trying to scare you.At least,I think that's what he was trying to say.""He's in bad shape?""He'll live," he replies. He adds bitterly, "In what condition, I can't say."It isn't right to wish pain on other people just because they hurt me first. But white-hot triumph races through me at the thought of Drew at the infirmary, and I squeeze Four's arm."Good," I say.My voice sounds tight and fierce.Anger builds inside me, replacing my blood with bitter water and filling me, consuming me.I wantt o break something,or hit something, but I am afraid to move,so I start crying instead.Four crouches by the side of the bed, and watches me. I see no sympathy in his eyes.I would have been disappointed if I had. He pulls his wrist free and, to my surprise, rests his hand on the side of my face, his thumb skimming my cheekbone.His fingers are careful."I could report this," he says."No," I reply. "I don't want them to think I'm scared."He nods.He moves his thumb absently over my cheekbone, back and forth. "I figured you would say that.""You think it would be a bad idea if I sat up?""I'll help you."Four grips my shoulder with one hand and holds my head steady with the other as I push myself up.Pain rushes through my body in sharp bursts,but I try to ignore it,stifling a groan.He hands me the ice pack. "You can let yourself be in pain," he says. "It's just me here.”

Veronica Roth

Veronica Roth - “I have only one memory of getting here...” 1

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“He blinks. Touches the side of my face, near my eyes. My eyes that are blue now, not green. With oval irises."I'm still me," I say, because my greatest fear now is that he doesn't want a hybrid Amy.He cocks an eyebrow. "You think I care if your eyes are blue or green? I just care about you." His hand slips down my arm, and he wraps his pinky finger around mine."You came back to me," I say, my voice breaking over unshead tears of joy."I'll always come back to you," he tells me pulling me close.Always.”

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“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.”

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“Why do you care, anyway?" I say. "You can be either cruel instructor or concerned boyfriend." I tense up at the word "boyfriend." I didn’t mean to use it so flippantly, but it’s too late now. "You can’t play both parts at the same time.""I am not cruel." He scowls at me "I was protecting you this morning. How do you think Peter and his idiot friends would have reacted if they discovered that you and I were..." He sighs. "You would never win. They would always call you ranking a result of my favoritism rather than your skill."I open my mouth to object, but I can't. A few smart remarks come to mind, but I dismiss them. He's right. My cheeks warm, and I cool them with my hands."You didn't have to insult me to prove something to them," I say finally."And you didn't have to run off to your brother just because I hurt you," he says. He rubs at the back of his neck."Besides- it worked, didn't it?""At my expense.""I didn't think it would affect you this way." Then he looks down and shrugs. "Sometimes I forget that I can hurt you. That you are capable of being hurt."I slide my hands into my pockets and rock back on my heels. A strange feeling goes through me- a sweet, aching weakness. He did what he did because he believed in my strength.At home it was Caleb who was strong, because he could forget himself, because all the characteristics my parents valued came naturally to him. No one has ever been so convinced of my strength.I stand on my tiptoes, lift my head, and kiss him. Only our lips touch."You're brilliant. You know that?" I shake my head. "You always know exactly what to do.""Only because I've been thinking about his for a long time," he says, kissing me briefly. "How I would handle it, if you and I..." He pulls back and smiles. "Did I hear you call me your boyfriend, Tris?""Not exactly." I shrug. "Why? Do you want me to?"He slips his hands over my neck and presses his thumbs under my chin, tilting my head back so his forehead meets mine. For a moment he stands there, his eyes closed, breathing my air. I feel the pulse in his fingertips. I feel the quickness of his breath. He seems nervous."Yes," he finally says.”

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“What’s three?” I asked, hoping to move away from this uncomfortable topic.The smile pulled at his lips again.“Three.” One of his hands cupped my face and the other slid around my back. He pulled my body against his and my heart began to pound. I took advantage of my free hand and pushed at his chest.“I don’t think so, Lily,” he said. “If you want to get rid of me, you’ll need to do better than that.”I drew a sharp breath and tried to wiggle away, but he held me firmly in place, watching me struggle. He grinned as he lifted me up onto the sink.“What are you doing?” I started to panic. “Someone could come in!”“If they see us, they’ll just turn around and get out of here,” he murmured, lips touching my ear. “No one crosses me.”His hips pressed against my knees, opening them, pushing my skirt up my legs. I gripped his shirt, clinging to him so I wouldn’t fall into the sink. His hand pushed into my lower back. I gasped as his body fitted against mine.Heat flooded my chest, my pelvis. I thought I would drown in it.“We can’t—” His lips stopped my words. The kiss just made me dizzier. I dug my fingers into his shoulders.“You said you didn’t want to be left alone.” His tongue flicked over my cheekbone. “This is me pestering you.”“Aren’t you breaking the rules?” I could barely get the words out. “What about the union?”“I’d rather have you on my own terms.” His hand slipped between my thighs.All strength fled my limbs. “I can’t breathe.”“That means you like it.” He kissed me again.”

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“You okay?" he says, touching my cheek. His hand cradles the side of my head, his long fingers slipping through my hair. He smiles and holds my head in place as he kisses me. Heat spreads through me slowly.And fear, buzzing like an alarm in my chest.His lips still on mine,he pushes the jacket from my shoulders.I flinch when I hear it drop,and push him back,my eyes burning. I don't know why I feel this way. I didn't feel like this when he kissed me on the train.I press my palms to my face,covering my eyes."What? What's wrong?"I shake my head."Don't tell me it's nothing." His voice is cold.He grabs my arm. "Hey. Look at me."I take my hands from my face and lift my eyes to his.The hurt in his eyes and the anger in his clenched jaw surprise me."Sometimes I wonder," I say,as calmly as I can, "what's in it for you. This...whatever it is.""What's in it for me," he repeats. He steps back,shaking his head. "You're an idiot,Tris.""I am not an idiot," I say. "Which is why I know that it's a little weird that,of all the girls you could have chosen,you chose me.So if you're just looking for...um,you know...that...""What? Sex?" He scowls at me. "You know, if that was all I wanted, you probably wouldn't be the first person I would go to."I feel like he just punched me in the stomach. Of course I'm not the first person he would go to-not the first, not the prettiest,not desirable. I press my hands to my abdomen and look away, fighting off tears. I am not the crying type.Nor am I the yelling type. I blink a few times, lower my hands, and stare up at him."I'm going to leave now," I say quietly. And I turn toward the door."No,Tris." He grabs my wrist and wrenches me back. I push him away,hard, but he grabs my other wrist, holding our crossed arms between us."I'm sorry I said that," he says. "What I meant was that you aren't like that. Which I knew when I met you.""You were an obstacle in my fear landscape." My lower lip wobbles. "Did you know that?""What?" He releases my wrists, and the hurt look is back. "You're afraid of me?""Not you," I say. I bite my lip to keep it still. "Being with you...with anyone. I've never been involved with someone before,and...you're older, and I don't know what your expectations are,and...""Tris," he says sternly, "I don't know what delusion you're operating under,but this is all new to me, too.""Delusion?" I repeat. "You mean you haven't..." I raise my eyebrows. "Oh. Oh.I just assumed..." That because I am so absorbed by him, everyone else must be too. "Um. You know.""Well,you assumed wrong." He looks away. His cheeks are bright,like he's embarrassed. "You can tell me anything, you know," he says. He takes my face in his hands,his fingertips cold and his palms warm. "I am kinder than I seemed in training. I promise."I believe him.But this has nothing to do with his kindness.He kisses me between the eyebrows, and on the tip of my nose,and then carefully fits his mouth to mine. I am on edge.I have electricity coursing through my veins instead of blood. I want him to kiss me,I want him to; I am afraid of where it might go.”

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