Divergent?

Chapter Twenty-Three (Beatrice)

I pause dead in my tracks.

Someone's there- behind the corner of the corridor I'm almost at the end of. Their footsteps are relatively heavy, and they walk slowly, but are getting closer fast- their strides must be long.

What if it's Four? Or Uriel? I don't want to get in trouble for being out of bed this early, but I couldn't stand it one more second in that sickroom. I couldn't sleep- my head was hurting too much and was too full of thoughts- and I was sick of laying motionless in bed.

Despite the fear of getting into trouble looming, I find the corner's of my lips twitching upwards and my face flushing at the thought of Four. Then the embarrassment of recent events set in and my face goes slack again. Absentmindedly, I reach up to smooth down my hair, and take a quick, deep intake of breath as I see the tip of a grey plimsole peek from around the corner. Somehow, for reasons unkown to me, I know it's Four.

'Beatrice?' The sight of his face, the sound of his voice, the feeling of his prescence makes me want to grin from ear to ear, but I conatin myself. Just.

I fumble for words after searching Four's face- the raised eyebrows and expectant look in his eyes tell me he's waiting for an explanation. I decide the truth will best fit that requirement.

'I -er- I had to get out of the infirmary. I guess I just kind of felt... trapped. You know the feeling, you're stuck somewhere, and you just feel the urge to get out and escape because you feel like you are being suffocated or held back... sort of.' I stop speaking suddenly, embarrassed of the drivel that just escaped out from my lips. Looking up, I expect to see a confused and judging expression on Four's face. But my expectation is defied by a far-away look mixed with a hint of fear. Confused, I wonder if Four does know what I mean. If he's thinking of something- a memory- and he can relate exactly to what I'm saying. At the same time, I wonder what on earth that memory could be, to make Four scared.

'Uh, yes. I guess I do kind of understand...' Four looks embarrassed as he admits this, and to my surprise, I'm about to question him on the subject. But he begins to speak before I can get my words out.

'Listen, Beatrice. Um, about... the other night'. My heart skips a beat as I hear these words, feeling an odd mix of excitement and humiliation. 'Well I'd just like to say that I'm sorry. I- I never wanted anything like that to happen... and I hope we can put it behind us.'

As my brain proccesses his words, I look Four straight in the eye, which he didn't manage to do to me once in this conversation. An odd look of bitterness twists at the corners of his mouth, and his rich brown eyes are pools of sadness. My mood reflects the way he looks. I also feel dejected. I know that I shouldn't understand these feelings. And as much as they are foreign to me, I enjoy them. I do not want to forget the other night. I don't want to lose Four.

Nevertheless, he turns around, his head bowed, and begins to walk away from me.

But a strange, impulsive feeling courses through me. If he walks away now, it might be forever. A small part of me is protesting. No. Let him go. Do the right thing- do what your faction would tell you to do. But it is a very small part of me.

Before Four gets too far away, I reach forward and brush my hand against his. I turn around swiftly, and walk away. It was only a small touch, lasting probably only a second, but I know Four felt it. Because his footsteps have stopped, and I can feel his eyes burning holes in the back of my head.

And if he felt anything like what I did in that second or two, he couldn't have missed it.