“What did you do?” I mumble. He is just a few feet away from me now, but not close enough to hear me. As he passes me he stretches out his hand. He wraps it around my palm and squeezes. Squeezes, then lets go. His eyes are bloodshot; he is pale. “What did you do?” This time the question tears from my throat like a growl. I throw myself toward him, struggling against Peter’s grip, though his hands chafe. “What did you do?” I scream. “You die, I die too” Tobias looks over his shoulder at me. “I asked you not to do this. You made your decision. These are the repercussions.”

Veronica Roth
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“What did you do?” This time the question tears from my throat like a growl. I throw myself toward him… “What did you do?” I scream. “You die, I die too…I asked you not to do this. You made your decision. These are the repercussions.”


“You die, I die too.” Tobias looks over his shoulder at me. “I asked you not to do this. You made your decision. These are the repercussions.”


“The shot doesn't come. He stares at me with the same ferocity but doesn't move. Why doesn't he shoot me? His heart pounds against my palms,and my own heart lifts. He is Divergent. He can fight this simulation.Any simulation."Tobias," I say. "It's me."I step forward and wrap my arms around him. His body is stiff. His heart beats faster. I can feel it against my cheek. A thud against my cheek. A thud as the gun hits the floor.He grabs my shoulders-too hard, his fingers digging into my skin where the bullet was. I cry out as he pulls me back. Maybe he means to kill me in some crueler way."Tris," he says,and it's him again. His mouth collides with mine. His arm wraps around me and he lifts me up, holding me against him, his hands clutching at my back. His face and the back of his neck are slick with sweat, his body is shaking,and my shoulder blazes with pain,but I don't care,I don't care,I don't care.He sets me down and stares at me, his fingers brushing over my forehead, my eyebrows,my cheeks, my lips.Something like a sob and a sigh and a moan escapes him,and he kisses me again. His eyes are bright with tears. I never thought I would see Tobias cry. It makes me hurt.I pull myself to his chest and cry into his shirt. All the throbbing in my head comes back,and the ache in my shoulder,and I feel like my body weight doubles.I lean against him, and he supports me."How did you do it?" I say."I don't know," he says. "I just hear your voice.”


“You look different." His words, normally crisp,are now sluggish."So do you," I say.And he does-he looks more relaxed,younger. "What are you doing?""Flirting with death," he replies with a laugh. "Drinking near the chasm. Probably not a good idea.""No,it isn't" I'm not sure I like Four this way.There's something unsettling about it."Didn't know you had a tattoo," he says, looking at my collarbone.He sips the bottle. His breath smells thick and sharp.Like the factionless man's breath."Right.The crows," he says. He glances over his shoulder at his friends, who are carrying on without him, unlike mine. He adds, "I'd ask you hang out with us, but you're not supposed to see me this way."I am tempted to ask him why he wants to hang out with him,but I suspect the answer has something to do with the bottle in his hand."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."His words surprise me,and my heart leaps. I wish it didn't,because judging by the way his eyes slide over mine, he has no idea what he's saying. I laugh. "Do me a favor and stay away from the chasm,okay?""Of course." He winks at me.I can't help it.I smile.Will clears his throat,but I don't want to turn away from Four,even when he walks back to his friends.Then Al rushes at me like a rolling boulder and throws me over his shoulder. I shriek,my face hot."Come on,little girl," he says, "I'm taking you to dinner."I rest my elbows on Al's back and wave at Four as he carries me away.”


“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.”


“He turns toward me. I want to touch him, but I’m afraid of his bareness; afraid that he will make me bare too.‘Is this scaring you, Tris?’‘No,’ I croak. I clear my throat. ‘Not really. I’m only…afraid of what I want.’‘What do you want?’ Then his face tightens. ‘Me?’Slowly I nod.”