Nothing Else Is Alright. But We Are.

Resisting Is Worth Doing.

May The Peace Of God Be With You," She Says, Her Voice Low, "even In The Midst Of Trouble." "why Would It?" I Say Softly, So No One Else Can Hear. "after All I've Done..." "it Isn't About You," She Says. "it Is A Gift. You Cannot Earn It, Or It Ceases To Be A Gift.

I Just Wanted To Thank You' He Says, His Voice Low. 'a Group Of Scientists Told You That My Genes Were Damaged, That There Was Something Wrong With Me - They Showed You The Test Results That Proved It. And Even I Started To Believe It.' He Touches My Face, His Thumb Skimming My Cheekbone, And His Eyes Are On Mine, Intense And Insistent. 'you Never Believed It,' He Says 'not For A Second. You Always Insisted I Was... I Don't Know, Whole.

I Am No Longer Tris, The Selfless, Or Tris, The Brave. I Suppose That Now, I Must Become More Than Either.

He Turns Toward Me. I Want To Touch Him, But I’m Afraid Of His Bareness; Afraid That He Will Make Me Bare Too. ‘is This Scaring You, Tris?’ ‘no,’ I Croak. I Clear My Throat. ‘not Really. I’m Only…afraid Of What I Want.’ ‘what Do You Want?’ Then His Face Tightens. ‘me?’ Slowly I Nod.