My Insurgent Life (Completely Fanfiction) Wattys2015

Chapter 34

"Stella," his voice whispers in my ear. "Stella, wake up, it's morning, you need to eat."

My eyes hesitantly open, as if the world beyond the darkness of their closed cages is too horrible to see. I don't always disagree.

Lamar sits beside my feet, looking at me, a plate in his hands, another before his crossed legs, inches from my ankles. I push myself into a sitting position, press the heals of my hands to my eyes, trying to free my mind from the dark trance. On the plate is two slices of bread, an apple, and a small slice of cake. Not Dauntless cake, but it will suffice.

I cross my legs and bring the plate to my lap, I take a slice of bread into my hands, pull off the crust and rip it into several pieces before bring one to my mouth. It tastes as it looks, like plain bread crust.

"Did they ever bring you any food?" He asks after a while. I have eaten all of my bread and started on my apple. I shake my head. "No wonder . . ."

"What?" I ask. "I'm hungry."

"I can tell," he says.

I punch him in his uninjured arm. He looks at me like nothing happened.

"Really?" He asks.

"What?" I ask.

"You punched me."

"Yeah . . ."

"You've killed me."

"Don't play that card!"

"What card?" He says. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Stop!" I say. "That card is messed up."

"I still don't know what you're talking about."

"Whatever!" I roll my eyes.

"Okay, that card is hurtful." He says.

"What?" I say. "I rolled my eyes."

"Yup."

"Stop."

He smiles and takes my hand in his. "You know," he says. "I can't believe we can be together like this in the midst of a war." His smile is smaller.

I stare at him, our eyes locking. "It isn't impossible," I say. "We can get through this."

"I know," he says. "But do you?"

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"You never seem to believe something good can happen to you, that nothing good will happen when this ends." He says.

"It's just," I say. "It's just a bad situation, I never see anything good coming out of a bad situation. I never see it ending." I say. I look down at my food, suddenly at a loss of appetite. I take the plate off of my lap. "Mathew's still alive," I say. "He said not to try to keep him that way. He thinks there's no possible way to get him out of here alive."

"Stella," he says. "Stella, look at me." I do. "I'm sorry. But . . . I think he's right. There's nothing that can be done."

I take my hand out of his, turning to lie back down.

"Stella-"

"I'm alright."

He sighs. "I don't think you are," he says. "You don't deserve this-"

"Christine said you threatened to slit her throat," I look at him. "Is that true?"

He smiles a little. "Yeah."

"Would you," I ask. "Please?"

"You want me to?"

"You think I don't?"