I Get The Strange Urge

She Can't Possibly Be Me, Though She Moves When I Move

I Hear My Heartbeat. I Have Been Looking At Him Too Long, But Then, He Has Been Looking Back, And I Feel Like We Are Both Trying To Say Something The Other Can't Hear, Though I Could Be Imagining It. Too Long - And Now Even Longer, My Heart Even Louder, His Tranquil Eyes Swallowing Me Whole.

Peter: Where Are You Two Going? Tris: Why Aren't You With Your Attack Group Eating Dinner? Peter: I Don't Have One. I'm Injured. Christina: Yeah Right, You Are! Peter: Well, I Don't Want To Go To Battle With A Bunch Of Factionless. So I'm Going To Stay Here. Christina: Like A Coward. Let Everyone Else Clean Up The Mess For You. Peter: Yep! Have Fun Dying.

I Can’t Answer Either Question. But The Look She Gives Me Reminds Me Of The Look In The Attack Dog’s Eyes In The Aptitude Test – A Vicious, Predatory Stare. She Wants To Rip Me To Pieces. I Can’t Lie Down In Submission Now. I Have Become An Attack Dog Too.

She Taught Me All About Real Sacrifice. That It Should Be Done From Love... That It Should Be Done From Necessity, Not Without Exhausting All Other Options. That It Should Be Done For People Who Need Your Strength Because They Don't Have Enough Of Their Own.