Rated R

➸f o u r

Theo's POV:

I walk through her empty hotel room, my eyes scanning everything—memorizing it.
I have to look away though, when I see her limp figure on the coach, sleeping away. She murmurs in her sleep, what seem to be pleads, but it's nearly inaudible.
My heart aches to hold her hand, and kiss her cheek, to tell her I'm here.

The ache is familiar but equally distant. The distance between Shai and I is equal to the unsaid words between Ruth and myself.

My bestfriend is hurting over something, and I don't know what. She was about to tell me what it was, before she nearly broke down.
My heart is aching, and it's because of her. Her.

The one and only Shailene Woodley.

Meeting on set three years ago, with Shai looking nervous and semi frightened, and then there was Miles beside her, trying to crack jokes, evidently flirting. She had offered him small smiles, and little laughs, although you could see she was not amused. I was rightfully pissed off. Was Miles going to be portraying her lover? No.
However, midway through one of Miles stupid comments, she locked eyes with mine.

Momentarily the world had faded away, and there was nothing except the few feet in between us—
And then Miles tapped her shoulder, and it all faded.

The something that shouldn't have been there was there, and then it was gone. How could something like that have disappeared so suddenly?
To this day I still don't know.

I do know though: She'd had so many words in those eyes, so many unheard screams and laughters. So many unshed tears.
Without any further thought I'd walked over to her, and stood sort of in front of Miles, and sort of in front of her.
She'd given me a grateful smile, and I had told her that Neil wanted us to know each other further. Miles had cleared his throat many times, even at one point saying her name. Neither of us gave a flying fuck.

We spent the hour before filming talking and laughing, getting to know the person we would be co staring with. I have to admit that was one of the best days of my life. Shai brings this side out of me that not even Ruth is able to find—and that's what scares me.

I love my girlfriend . . . I really do. But the problems that haunt me when we're in bed, when I'm kissing her, and holding her—is that I don't know if I'm in love with her.
She's like a safe place, a happy ending. Everything is sure, everything is known . . . And leaving that for someone who's always keeping me on my toes, who isn't my safe place, who isn't mine . . . I couldn't do that. Shailene's not my safe place. But is she my alternate universe?

I've learnt for the most part how to push aside the unturned feeling of wanting her lips on mine. In my weak moments, I remember Ruth's kisses. I remember Nahko. And the conversation we had last year, and I remember what he said.

"Leave her alone," he demands, shoving my chest. His eyes blaze in anger and I nearly guffaw at his small figure. What a puny coward.
"Shai isn't yours," I state. "She's neither of ours." He fists his hands together, staring me down, or at least attempting to. His mouth is pressed into a snarl, and I'm half way from punching out his newly whitened teeth.
"Yeah," he says. "Yeah—that may be true. But you know what? Ruth is yours. Remember that."

He was right, and he still is right, but why do I feel the urge to make Shai mine?
Why do I want to push Nahko completely out of the way? He hasn't done anything but point out the truth to me.
Maybe it had been the fact he was planning to ask out Shai that angered me so much . . . I'll never know.

Why do I have to have this feeling that everything will change when Ruth wakes up? When I leave to film . . . And I have to kiss Shailene Diann Woodley?