Free Four: Insurgent [Book 2] (ON HOLD)

5.

Chapter 5

After breakfast, Tris tells me she's going for a walk. I complain that she's the onlyother sane one here tokeep me company, but she smiles and says she won't be long. I goto the Amity fields, run up anddown the lanes of apple trees. It's nice out here, with the freshair and all. The breeze is much stronger than any that comes fromthe chasmback in Dauntless. When lunch comes I decide I needto get some more of this anxiety out.

After working up every ounce of my kindness, I aska little red-headed boy inyellow and red where I could find some flour sacks. As theythrow away the bare minimumhere in Amity, I was treated to at least fiftyflour sacks that made the perfect punching bag for the rest of the day.

I missed dinner and decide I'll find Tris later, but here I sit, the lights flickering out- Amity is probably the onlyfaction that abides with the light curfew anymore- and rub myraw knuckles. I'll find her tomorrow. She is strong, she doesn't need me tending after her when she's perfectly capable in her own hands. With that thought, I allow the workof the dayto crash over me like ocean waves and fall intoa deep sleep.

I hear a creaking noise, andshift, the quilt of mybed wrapping around my legs. If this is some sort of "you have to workto stayhere" kind of thing, red won't simply be the color they wear. They'll be lucky that I'mtired-

It's Tris.

I lookat her, seeing first a tinyangel- light yellow shirt, blond hair, slender legs, big blue eyes. Then I see that those eyes are lined with the beginning of tears.

"C'mere," I say, myvoice sounding lethargic to even my own ears. She walks soundlessly toward me, and I pull up the quilt for her. Selfishly, I notice her bare legs, pale and muscular and tryto force down my own thoughts in returnfor hers.

"Bad dream?" I ask.

She simplynods.

"What happened?"

She shakes her head. Presses her lips together. She won't lookme in the eyes. I don't know what the dream was about, but if she was thinking about us, if the dreamincluded me, I want to reassure her. Maybe she came in here, to check that I was okay? The tiny girl from Abnegation coming to check on her sixfoot Dauntless boyfriend. It seems the kind of thing she would do, trying to be strong for all of us in a hurricane of confusion.

I put myhand on her cheek, tryto stroke her tocomfort her.

"We're all right, you know," I say. "You and me, Okay?" She nods, andI kiss her cheek. "Nothingelse is all right," I whisper in her ear. "But we are."

"Tobias," she says, and I prepare to listen. But thenher eyes look like they are far away, andI wish I could catch her thoughts. But then she kisses me, reckless and brave. She caught me bysurprise, but I surprise her back.

Myhand is on her face, but I drag it down her side, into her waist and up over her hip, my fingertips brush the chill bumps on her leg. She shivers andI laughinternally. If there is one thing that is adorable about this tough girl, is her visceral reaction to mytouch. She presses closer tome, andher leg wraps around me. I realize now that I amcompletelyawake, or caught in some sort of dream of her.

Myhand slides under her T-shirt, and she sighs, air brushing against my neck. I wonder if she came in here just to drive me crazy. My fingers spread out against her back, tryto push her closer than we are. I lookdown at her, and her eyes are shut tight, those blue orbs closed to the world. I fit myfingers into the curve of her spine, and move slowlyup. I feel the heat of her stomach and she grabs my t-shirt.

Myhand is almost at her shoulder, andfire courses through myveins. So small, so strong. I kiss her harder, and she responds. She holds myshoulder, but I can feel her shake anyway.

I touch the bandage on her shoulder by accident, and she pulls back. Disappointment washes over me for a moment, and she pulls the t-shirt back down. She looks at me and I look at her, both of us catching our breath. As my breathing slows, hers continues to speed and her eyes shine too brightly.

"Sorry," she says, silent tears slipping down her cheek.

"Don't apologize," I say quickly. She shouldn't be sorry. I brush her tears away. I run my fingers over her again, but this time not fromdesire, but from adoration. Graceful collar bones, elegant shoulders, strong flesh around her ribs.

"I don't mean to be such a mess," she says, and her voice cracks with tears. "I just feel so..." she shakes her head.

"It's wrong," I say, before she can be frustrated byher lack of words. "It doesn't matter if your parents are in a better place- they aren't here with you, and that's wrong, Tris. It shouldn't have happened. It shouldn't have happened to you. And anyone whotells you it's okay is a liar."

That seemedto have broken her. Iron turns to porcelain, and she sobs like she will break. I pull her into my arms, I tryto hold her together. She sobs like the sun will never come up again, and I don't blame her. I hold her. I don't tryto murmur promises into her ear, or try to calmher with soothingwords. I have more respect for her than that- she knows that this is past words.

I wait, and I thinkI feel my own heart tearing in half until she cries herself out.

"Sleep," I say. "I'll fight the bad dreams off if theycome to get you."

"With what?" MyTris. Always inquisitive, this girl.

"My bare hands, obviously."

She wraps her arm around mywaist and breathes deeply. Her eyes flutter closed, and I breathe in the apple scent of her hair.

"I love you, Tris," I whisper toher. She doesn't respond. She doesn't have to, because I think I know what she feels. I onlyhope that she heard me.