He Looks Like A Man

We Are Not The Same. But We Are, Somehow, One.

Four Flips The Gun In This Hand, Presses The Barrel To Peter's Forehead, And Clicks A Bullet Into Place. Peter Freezes With His Lips Parted, The Yawn Dead In His Mouth. "wake. Up," Four Snaps. "you Are Holding A Loaded Gun, You Idiot. Act Like It.

His Fingers Leave Streaks Of Cold On My Skin, Invisible To The Eye, And I Think About Wrapping His Shirt Around My Fist And Pulling Him In To Kiss Me; I Think About Pressing Myself Against Him, But I Can't, Because All Our Secrets Would Keep A Space Between Us.

I Am Better Off Doing As Abnegation Taught Me: Turning Away From Myself, Projecting Always Outward, And Hoping That In Whatever Is Next, I Will Be Better Than I Am Now.

Dauntless: Being Brave In The Midst Of Fear.