I quietly take the syringe out of its small box, as well as the accompanying vial, and fill it with serum. By now, I've gotten especially dexterous with this task- though, since it's technically against the rules, no-one knows that I come out here at night.

No-one, I suppose, except for the camera watchers.

As I take out an antiseptic wipe and wipe my neck with it, I can almost hear...footsteps. They seem to be coming from the balcony above. I glance aside at it. It never hurts to be cautious, especially not here, in this faction.

And indeed, I see a glimpse of a shadow, though it is gone as quickly as it'd come. I purse my lips with anxiety. I can't go under the simulation serum until I figure out who's up there. Items still in hand, wipe still pressed to my neck, I start up towards the staircase.

That's when I hear them again- closer this time.

Okay... That's it. I toss my things to the ground and rush up to the staircase, but as my foot hits the second step, I see a silhouette at the top of the stairs leading to the balcony.

"Four!"

It's only Amar... But why is he here? As he descends to meet me, I notice that his clothes are clean and fairly smooth, so this was obviously planned. However, he seems out of breath, with more of a flush than one would normally have from running from the residences. Even if he'd run the whole way, his skin is dark enough that a red flush is not easily noticeable.

Amar grins nonchalantly and waves, but his shoulders seem rather tense. "Four! I didn't expect to meet you down here!" he says.

I just stare at him. "Amar, of course you did. Why else would you be here?" I ask curtly.

He just looks down and rubs the back of his neck. His smile is not as large now, and he seems very anxious. And despite having normal breathing, he's still rather red. He's hiding something. It's so obvious that even an Amity could see it. He's never been good at hiding how he's feeling.

"Amar, just spit it out. What is it you want to tell me?" I ask.

He just laughs nervously. "You're a lot more outspoken than you used to be. Hell, you speak a lot more since you joined Dau-"

"Amar."

"Ahahah... Sorry," he replies. "Well... This isn't easy to say, y'know? Some folks, even around here, wouldn't quite approve of it, and I just want to make sure you don't...uh...hate me for it, hmm?"

I manage to spit out a short chuckle. "Amar, short of you being a serial killer or some other despicable being, I'm not sure I could hate you. You're one of my few friends here. You took me out drinking, we went and crashed an Erudite study session, and then I got a tattoo on my ribs. Why would I hate you?" I reply incredulously.

"Hopefully he hasn't told anyone about that..." I say to myself.

Amar sighs a great sigh of relief and grins. "Thank you so much!" he exclaims, coming forward and clasping my hands. I feel a slight warmth in my cheeks. Even now, with this influence from Dauntless, I'm still uncomfortable with people touching me.

"Look, Four... I may be your instructor, and we may have only known each other for a short while, but I still need you to know this.

"I love you, Four."

All I know is that my face is burning hot, my neck, my ears, even down to my fingertips. But not due to returned affections. Oh, no, this is due to shock and embarrassment.

It had already embarrassed me when Zeke told me that several Dauntless girls find me...rather attractive. Though naturally, he had worded it much more crudely. I never received such attention in Abnegation. And it certainly never occurred to me that a man might find me enticing, in manners romantic or sexual, especially not Amar. Amar was my instructor, for God's sake!

When I finally come to from this revelation, I find that Amar is staring at me with a hurt look in his eyes, and I realize that my mouth is hanging wide open in shock. I quickly close it and pull my hands back, still burning with that urge to hide and never come back out again. I shrink further into myself.

"L-look... I know..." Amar stammers. I just look up at him calmly.

"I know that you probably don't feel that way for me, judging by your reaction..." he continues, "but I had to make my feelings known, and I hope that you don't despise me for them."

I smile softly. "I don't hate you, but I don't...love you in...that way. Like an older brother, perhaps, which make this...so much more surreal, but I don't hate you, Amar. But please, don't make further advances on me."

Now it's Amar's turn to become beet-red. And then I realize that I opened up to him about my feelings.

Perhaps, in that moment, I trusted him enough to tell him how I saw him. He trusted me enough to tell me, even though he knew I could never reciprocate, that he loved me. He showed me what real trust was, and perhaps someday, I could trust others not to betray me, though that is a long way off yet.

Amar smiles and rubs the back of his neck. He absentmindedly adjusts the hem of his shirt and then turns to leave.

"I won't make unwelcome advances, don't you worry. That against my code of honor!" he replies. He waves and runs back up the stairs. At the top, he turns back, yells good night, and heads back to his residence.

I look down at my hand. The wipe, stuck to my hand, is now dry, and my hand is damp with antiseptic solution. I sigh. The serum has probably gone unresponsive, as well. I pick up the syringe, and toss it and the dried wipe in the trash can nearby. I gather up the shards of glass, from where the vial hit the ground, and throw them away as well, and then I take the box and place it back on the table. I've always been a meticulous person, after all, and this menial task will keep my mind off of what Amar just told me. But yet...

I look back up at the empty staircase. Even though he seemed alright with my response, his eyes had such a look of pain, of betrayal...