Part 1: Divergent

-CHAPTER 4-
Paint Balls

It's just before bedtime. I like the top bunk of mine. It's high and easy for my legs to swing off. The ceiling is black and I wonder why I am missing my old room. My mother and father said to clear my stuff up months before the Choosing Day since I won't miss them as much. We have zero stuff here. Unless we buy, we own nothing.

It makes me feel like a drifter.

I shouldn't have left anything on my bed. In my room. My hair band that's on the ground. I know they'll never leave. I know Rose will be depressed with me. My absence. My leaving. Was it a betrayal? I wanted to be more honest and to do that, I had to be brave.

Am I being brave?

What the hell am I doing here? Do I belong here?

No. That is what Eric wants me doing- doubting myself. I will never give him that pleasure. Never.

I belong here! I will get through initiation.

There's a roar; "Everybody up!"

I almost sigh. There is a stream of people coming into the dormitory room with flashlights. I know he's there. Of course. Why is he here? It's lights out and I am so tired.

I can only take so much pain and verbal abuse. I am not happy to see him.

I slip off of my bunk and tread towards Tris. Tris lays in bed and she's staring, dazed. It's funny, how she made Eric so mad. I know, he knows he's angry. I like it.

Then he sees me out with a smirk and glares at Tris. I can't help but notice him in the glare of the flashlight. It shines behind his head and his piercings glow.

He looks hyped. Euphoria probably slipped under his tongue. He's perfumed with anticipation and excitement. Black's his color and his tattoos look darker. His hair is a mess but gently tousled and teased. His eyes look violet in this dim lighting.

I look away. Four's there.

Eric goes off the rocker and demands, "Did you go deaf, Stiff?"

Tris raises an eyebrow and gets from under the black blanket. She looks at me, eyes saying, 'Really? Why's Eric like this?'.

I roll my eyes, responding, 'Eric is a dick,' with a scoff.

He notices me glaring at him and shoots a challenging look. I send one of my own. Tris watches me again, eyes wide and I shrug. Him and I, we're problematic.

Her eyes follow the lines of my legs and-

I realize I'm standing with my legs bare. My t-shirt. In the light of the flash, I know he can see me. Almost naked. And- and the ice pack's beside my shoes. I hadn't neatly tucked them away.

He sees it, pauses and I kick it away.

It's so annoying. My hair's a wreck, my gray shirt loose. I know he can see my bra and a sliver of my underwear. I want to know if he's impressed then I want to know how hard I can punch him without shattering my elbow. Since I can't have loose hands, I just cross my arms and lift my gaze to him.

"You have five minutes to get dressed and meet us by the tracks," Eric says, not meeting my bold stare. "We're going on another field trip."

I roll my eyes. Are you kidding me?

The next few moments are a rush, and suddenly, I'm sprinting. We make it through the narrow pathways of the pit.

Through the blur, I know we're behind some Dauntless-born initiates. It feels cool. The night air feels cool. I'm wondering why everyone is so lively and energized. Is it something in the air? I love it. Still, still- I want to sleep.

Then, with Tris panting, we pause at the tracks. Inquisitive, she gazes at the black mass beside the tracks and narrows her blue eyes. I see what's got her annoyed; there's a pile of guns.

I don't know what we're doing. It drives me crazy. I don't know whether or not to be happy or really worried. In that pile, there are long gun barrels and trigger guards. Are we going to get turned against one another? I don't want to.

I peer at her, scowling. "Are we going to shoot something?" I hiss.

We're using paintballs and not real pellets or bullets. It makes me feel good. Everything's calling out to me and I remember why I love the place so much.

I'm free.

I get to be loud because my noise gets caught and carried by the wind. The streets and roads and houses don't change. I love the way the moon smiles at me. I swear the stars and skies smile. I love the night time. You get to hide things. In Candor, it was so impossible to keep tiny secrets.

We aren't- humans aren't supposed to lie. It's a learned trait, a sign of dishonesty is a weakness. It's undesirable, as everyone I've met before I was fifteen said.

But maybe we didn't have to know or share everything. Sometimes, there's sweet comfort in not knowing. When we don't share, there's no mystery. There's no hunt or chase. We're just running for something. I don't know what but it will all merge.

Maybe details weren't meant to be said, maybe they're meant to be kept in the recesses of one's mind.

Maybe I didn't want everyone knowing that I didn't brush my teeth or that I got a really bad mark on my quiz that day or that my period hurt more than a shark biting on my fingers.

There are things I want to keep. Things I get to keep and the dark allows me to do that. Dauntless allows it. I don't have to lie but no one knows the truth. I breathe in the night air and grin. What a time to be alive.

"Everyone grab a gun!" Eric shouts.

On instinct, without thinking, I whip around and it's as though my eyes and his eyes are attracted by a magnet.

My eyes find his first, even in a crowd full of people looking at him.

We make eye-contact for three seconds. He changes my mood again. I want to turn away and march back to the Dauntless headquarters but I know I can't.

So, I do what he tells me.

I take a gun and a pack of paintballs. I mock point my gun at him. "Bang," I mouth, focusing on him. If I pulled the trigger, his stupid loudmouth would be covered with a happy yellow or iron red or river blue.

It would distract him from his Candor colors. He has silver eyes, like polished metal. And then when he's mad and I'm the spark, his eyes are like smoke, gray and full of heat.

It's quite wonderful really cause he just shifts his stare from me to the gun and grumbles, getting out of my sight.

Tris is pre-occupied with observing the crowd, as usual. Her gaze lingers on Four but I think nothing of it.

Eric is-

Why am I thinking about Eric? I glared furiously at the stupid ground. I'm wasting my thoughts.

"Time estimate?" Eric asks Four, eyes risen. He looks anxious- is this that fun?

Four lowers his gaze and looks at his watch. "Any minute now. How long is it going to take you to memorize the train schedule?"

"Why should I, when I have you to remind me of it?" Eric quips, kind of playfully. He pushes Four's shoulder. Friendly.

Four doesn't share the sentiment and moves away.

Eric has his moments when he's decent. So, I laugh but it pierces through the air. I cover it with a cough and turn away, getting impatient.

Eric raises an eyebrow. I ignore how people look at me.

The train shows up and Four gets onto the train. Tris races afterward, without thinking of me. With the motion of the speeding train, she clasps Four's arm and he pulls her onto the train.

I stare. What was that all about? I want to ask about it but she's already in the train car. Everyone gets on but I'm still in shock.

I'm one of the last people to mount. I huff a bit, seeing Tris on the opposite end of the train car.

Tris's quiet and by herself. I swallow my questions. Whatever. Maybe she wanted to get ahead, you never know.

I observe everything else, just standing millimeters away from the open cart entrance. The train jolts and dips but I'm standing there, on the edge. I'm being Dauntless. Eric waits and comes near, almost stepping on my heels. He was one of the last on.

When the train jostled again, a low breath of air escapes my lips. "Oh,"

Eric's right behind me.

I step forward since I can't stay there forever.

It's one of the awkwardest feelings ever but it's a reverie. I feel like I'm caught in a storm. His breath was momentarily hot against the back of my neck. And I wonder if he's either being creepy or if I should ignore how warm he is.

The people are all around me. No one's paying heed and I don't care about them since I'm in my own little world with Eric.

It's painful.

I stand there for some more moments until I decide it's over. I go my own way and he goes to his.

Once we're all on the train, Eric rests with Four.

Four clears his throat and explains; "We'll be dividing into two teams to play capture the flag. Each team will have an even mix of members, Dauntless-born initiates, and transfers. One team will get off first and find a place to hide their flag. Then the second team will get off and do the same," Four says calmly, eyes glinting. He's hyped too. "This is a Dauntless tradition, so I suggest you take it seriously."

I nod. Now I'm excited to play. I know I'll win. I want it.

Eric and Four name themselves as team captains and surprisingly, Tris gets chosen first. Let me say that again, Tris got chosen first by Four!

I dart my eyes at Eric. Would he do something as stupid and bold as that? When there's a short pause of low rumbling, low sounding laughter, I wonder if he'll choose me. I then want Eric's honorable and cleaner counterpart Four to not choose me but he does.

Four chooses me second.

I scold myself for feeling slight disappointment. I want to prove myself. I want to because I am doing so well. I will do well. But I can't bring myself to care about what else is going on around me.

They finish dividing the initiates and then Eric and Four split up the Dauntless-born and other members.

We get off. Tris is in la-la land and I let her go off. I am at least on a team with Will. We have to choose a spot to scout out the flag.

Our team got off first. Two rough hands shove Tris out of the moving Train. At least, they attempted to. She stumbled a bit but jumps off before the person can try something.

Peter.

"Oops," Peter says, not looking sorry. "I hoped to encourage her to break a foot or her neck."

I glare at him and say, "Don't do that again or I'll be pushing you off."

Will hears the anger in my voice and gets close to me. "What happened? Are they bothering you?" Will asks, sending a protective glare at them.

For me. I don't want him involved. Plus, Molly quirks up a dark brow. What's so peculiar?

I shake my head. "Not important. We have a game to win, not losers to bicker with," I nod to Will and he jumps off.

"We'll win," Molly snorts. "Just like the fight we had."

"No, you won't. You'll see me with the flag," I say, determined.

All Peter, Molly, and Drew do is laugh. Then other people are laughing and it gets to my head. They're always wheezing. I flick my eyes around the train car and Eric isn't laughing. I love that. He isn't laughing but he could still find it funny.

"You want them to stop?" He looks nonchalant with his gun strap crossed against his firm chest. "Prove it," he states simply, his arms folded.

As if it's that easy. It's not.

I look away and mutter, "I will,"

And I jump off. I land on my feet and I feel graceful.

The wind feels cool against my skin and the pleasant night breezes soothe me.I join the group with Will and the rest of them.

Will looks at me and whispers, "What happened back there?"

I shrug. "I put the trash in its place."

"Why were they laughing?"

"You heard laughing?" I cough. Were they that loud? Those harpies.

We walk around for a while until someone says to visit the navy pier. The person's brother who spoke won the game last year. The flag was at the carousel. Under Will's lead, we walk east.

Will and I have talked as the days went. Were we just that easy?

Will walks closer to me than usual, chatting but I am not answering. Our shoulders brush and it's strange. I don't hate it but I don't want it either. I try to give him grins, play it off like I'm not wondering about us or exactly uncomfortable.

Will's smart and nice. He teases me and we often get into arguments but I don't exactly know what we are. Can I give us a label? Am I allowed to? For two people who've only known each other a week, how close does one become?

Not that close. I'm not ready to hand over my secrets. I was just wondering if I could. I can't.

Is Will even ready to hold my personality? Despite that, I allow him to stand so near. He says I smell like cinnamon muffins in the morning and that's his favorite snack.

How do you move away when someone says things like that?

We settle and all of us trail through the night streets. The streetlights are off and one girl's worried about stepping on glass. I'm worried about people hearing us since we're in a neighborhood, so carelessly loud.

Al's on the other team and I know he's upset about that. He sends little looks to Tris when his chocolate eyes are big and melted. I know the heat from his anger makes them darker, just like Eric's. His eyes are dark because he's mad at himself for Tris not noticing him or his low rank.

There's a fire whenever he looks at her, just like with me and Eric. I don't know who's getting burnt or-or hurt. I hope it won't end in heartbreak. I hope.

We get to the carousel. It's broken down and I feel like I'm in a child's nightmare. The horses are all worn down and I can't imagine it being safe.

Four stops and we all halt, looking at him expectantly.

I know why girls stare at him. It's not because of his looks.

He's tall and tough like he's eaten nails for breakfast. Nothing fazes him. He's invincible without ever being anything less than sharp.

There's a huge difference between the way Eric and Four made a name for themselves. Eric terrifies someone and Four intimidates them. Yeah, they're both scaring others but Four doesn't draw strength from fear. He inspires them to respect him, to follow him and to be just like him.

So why the hell does Eric look so good to me? I shake that thought away.

"In ten minutes, the other team will pick their location," he says. "I suggest you take this time to formulate a strategy. We may not be Erudite, but mental preparedness is one aspect of your Dauntless training. Arguably, it is the most important aspect."

Tris nods in agreement.

I shrug. We're supposed to be trained to kill. How are we supposed to do that if our minds don't work? So, the question remains, what the hell is our plan?

Will suggests that some of us go out to guard and some of us scout the location of the flag. I say we wait for them to come to us. Someone argues and insists to 'go all out' and hide the flag. Damn well.

We get into an altercation about our plans. It's like no one wants to do one thing. I defend Will's plan. Of course, I would, he's Will. Then others get off and just like the furor of the chasm, all of our voices are going off at once.

No one can comprehend anyone else but through the furor, I try to get my word across. Suddenly, everyone acts all entitled and self-righteous and leaves, doing their own thing. What about teamwork?!

Then a search party leaves and I hiss at them. One-third of my team is gone. Three other people stayed around. Strangers who are mad at me for not agreeing with them.

Even Tris and Four are gone. Will left me for them and they saddle us with the duty of taking care of the flag.

The other three Dauntless shove the flag to me and dismally say, "Do as you please," because we'll lose.

I suddenly feel no faith in my Dauntless team. So, I sit on a carousel horse and clutch a pole, trying to hold my unkept pony up.

Our neon orange flag is behind us and I wonder where my team went. Some time. Leaving me high and dry. I will myself not to care about this because- it's just a dauntless tradition. It's not going to cure cancer or make me known.

I look at the other dauntless in the dark. "We can't leave this sitting here. We have to hide it."

"We already lost. Why bother?" One says.

"We didn't lose," I say, still having something to do. It's not over yet.

"We're guarding,"

Or we're all giving up cause that's what it feels like.

Eric's voice rings out in my head and I want to prove I'm something great.

Before I can say anything, there's a deep and profound groan. A low metallic groan that's coming from behind us. It sounds like a metallic horse protesting- not wanting to do any work. What. The. Fuck? All four of us exchange curious but fearful glances.

Then one girl, who's sitting on the edge of the carousel, says, "Guys, we have a damn problem. Those blithering idiots," she curses, quite loudly.

I turn and look. Against the black canvas of the endless sky, I see the silhouette of it. It's moving. The Ferris wheel is moving. Suddenly, I spot Tris and Four coming over. I know, just by how stupidly happy they look, they caught something. Something important.

"Where'd the others go?" asks Four.

They join up with us and I grin. She's eyeing Four but not curiously, not for anything more than just staring for the pleasure of it. He suddenly gets on her wavelength and doesn't smile but shoots a careless impressed look. I look away. They just shared a secret.

The girl sitting jumps up. "Did you guys turn on the wheel?" the older girl says. "What the hell are you thinking? You might as well have just shouted 'Here we are! Come and get us!'. If I lose again this year, the shame will be unbearable. Three years in a row?"

"The wheel doesn't matter," Four says. "We know where they are."

They match eyes, cerulean and sky blue and they nod.

"We?" I ask, looking at her then at Four.

Four nods. "Yes, while the rest of you were twiddling your thumbs, Tris climbed the Ferris wheel to look for the other team," he says.

"What do we do now, then?" Another Dauntless got tired and yawns, still asking the question.

I look at Tris. Wow. I'm impressed. She's... better than I thought she was. I like it this way but I hate it as well.

She suddenly looks oddly put on the spot. Her shoulders get tense and she stares back at us. Her eyes get light and she steps forward a bit. Even though we were all listening and quiet, her voice becomes loud and confident.

"Split in half," she says and nods to herself. "Four of us go to the right side of the pier, three to the left. The other team is in the park at the end of the pier, so the group of four will charge as the group of three sneaks behind the other team to get the flag."

Wow. She's smarter than I thought. I don't know what to think so I think about nothing.

"Sounds good," says the older girl, clapping her hands together. "Let's get this night over with, shall we?"

She just nods. I go with a guy who has bronze skin and Tris. She doesn't say anything but I want to. Then she avoids my gaze and I don't want to again.

I pull out my gun and run. I have to get to that flag. Tris sprints and realizes my motives.

We're both sprinting, the cool breeze is useless when I'm on fire. I'm the one who's getting that flag.

Me.

We somehow alert the other team. Paint splatters everywhere. My finger's on the trigger and I'm running through the wispy smoke, the paint, and all the noises. Tris and I both reach the flag at the same time.

I look at her. "Come on, Tris," I say, truthfully. "You're already the hero of the day. And you know you can't reach it anyway."

Tris jumps back and gives me a confused look.

I take the flag from the branch. I turn around and I cheer. I stand in the tip of my toes. Everyone pauses and I grin. We won!

Then we all break out into triumphant shouting. My legs burn, my lungs are dry and I feel like I'm going to collapse- but we won!

Everyone's cheering! We won! Ha. Everyone from my team rushes over and supports my arm to lift it to the skies, so everyone can see my face and the flag that I got.

On one side, I see Peter, Molly, and Drew. Their best scowls are on full display. They're a messy painting.

Maybe I am too but I'm the one who won.

Then in the corner of my eye, I see Eric. He doesn't look as mad as I thought he would. He isn't plotting my death or stomping around. He looks quietly calm. Unbothered. He isn't being Eric. No. He looks... vaguely proud. Then, he folds his arms, a usually angry motion, but this time- it's a sign of acceptance.

So, we look at each other. He breaks the silence, without words. He nods.

To me, it's an underlying sign of respect. To him, I think it's the same. We're on our own wavelength. The sounds fade. I forget the people and I look away, memory caught in my mind.

Maybe that's why I like the dark so much. There's no looking, no talking. Just body contact and movements of touching. Words don't mean as much anymore.

In the train, we go back.

Everyone looks tired and they're yawning but I feel like I want to run marathons. The floor is dirty and everyone else is covered in paint splatters except for me and Tris. Well, we got hit.

Tris looks heavy but she isn't particularly answering my questions. I know she's kind of mad. I get it... 'cause what I did was a shitty thing but... I want to celebrate with her.

"I can't believe I missed it!" Will says again, not being able to believe it.

I laugh at him and loop my arm through his. "You were performing the very important job of staying out of our way," I say grinning.

Al shakes his head and groans. "Why did I have to be on the other team?"

"Because life's not fair, Albert. And the world is conspiring against you," says Will. "Hey, can I see the flag again?"

I give him the flag without looking at Tris.

When we get back to the Dauntless compound, I look over and I know there are some people who want to sleep.

I'm too awake.

I know it was wrong to take the flag but I wanted to win. It helps me. I realize I should have let Tris get this one. She formulated the plan. It worked.

But Tris has done so many remarkable things. I wanted a label. I really did.

Plus, random people congratulate me and I'm smiling so wide, it feels good to laugh and smile. After we return from the tracks, despite being friendly on the train, Tris slips away and we don't talk. Al and Will spend some guy time. So, I wander off.

I wonder if they serve coffee here.

They probably don't. Dauntless don't need coffee to wake up. They use stupid things and adrenaline rushes to wake up.

But with the flag in hand, I stand against the Pit's wall, watching people come and go by.

Most people are drunk or too sleepy to notice me.

Then, Eric waltzes beside me.

It's near eleven and I'm wondering why he's still up. With me.

He has some office stuff to do. With the papers and decisions and big words, he does have other stuff to do. Instead, he casually stands beside me and I glare.

"You were good out there. You made them stop laughing," says Eric.

"I don't want to hear you right now. I'm not looking to act like your punchline at the moment."

"What makes you say that?" he grits. "Just take the compliment."

"No," I say. "I'm the joke that you constantly berate. And you just added humor to your skill set."

"You should add something to yours," Eric says.

I wince and say, "That joke. Ha, ha, almost as funny as your face."

Then I turn around and walk away. I don't need this. Eric comes behind me and shadows my steps.

"Sir. You need to take a step back," I warn.

"Me taking a hundred steps back wouldn't have changed anything you've done. You did well."

I turn around, startled. Is this a joke? Is he lying? What the hell? He looks at my wrist and I shift uncomfortably. "I didn't want your appraisal. I'm not eager to please you."

"You should be since I determine the rankings."

"Funny, Sir, you're on a roll since initiates do that," I laugh but it's sarcastic and heavy. "Maybe you should give up being a bastard for the comedian act."

He looks at my watch and clicks his tongue. "It's broken," he says, shaking his head.

I look at my watch. It's practical but a little fancy. It's delicate and black, of course. Well, it was black. The face of it is broken and the glass is cracked. There's peeling pink paint dripping off of it. I shrug.

"So what?" I ask defensively, snatching my arm back.

He seems too amused. It freaks me out. "Is that why you can't have nice things?"

He doesn't hesitate, reaching out to undo the latches of my wristwatch. He carefully takes the timepiece as if carrying a bomb. He then holds it in his hand and I stare at the spot on my wrist, the lacking of my wristwatch. He then checks my face as he reaches for his.

"Don't talk. Just cherish it."

What? His words are never a comfort.

Oh no. He gives me his wristwatch. He fastens it on my slender wrist, being careful. It's golden, expensive and large. It doesn't look too tacky but it feels like I'm carrying actual money.

I stare. What?

Why is he doing this? He shrugs and I notice him looking generally pleased with himself. I don't know whether or not to be impressed by this or terrified.

Is he a watch guy?

I mean, he does like accessories- nice things. However, he doesn't care about his looks.

His dauntless boots are worn. I would be disappointed if his shoes were neat or tied all the way, like a know it all. Anyhow, what do I do? He can't just give me something.

I then panic and tense up under his stare. He's waiting for me to say something. I attempt opening my mouth to say something then I pause.

The flag.

He wanted to win so badly, it wasn't funny. It was quite sad now that I've won and he wanted the triumph. I reach for my back pocket, thinking carefully.

Eric and Four have had a... rivalry per se. It's not very healthy nor is it good to have a rivalry, since they end in carnage.

Then again, he lost. His team lost under his leadership. He doesn't seem to be broken up about it. Still, Four won and he didn't. I suddenly wish I wasn't on Four's team.

Maybe Eric wouldn't be so broken up about it. I then nod and get the flag I don't have to return until tomorrow.

"Here," I tell him, offering the flag. He furls his eyebrows and I shrug, unable to look him in the eye. "It's not a source of my pride- so here."

"I don't need it."

What a lie.

I grab his clenched up fist and undid it. I peel back his rough but long fingers and hold the scabbed over knuckles of his. I carefully place the gleaming yellow flag into his hand.

"Here,"

He looks at me like he doesn't recognize me.

Then a smile.

He actually smiles in the dim light. He takes the flag and I take the watch. My hand hovers over his and I don't move it.

My touch is feather light and our skin is almost touching. I see no reason to move for a couple of seconds. He doesn't move either. It's as though his brain hasn't decided against it.

I take away my hand and walk away.

Did he feel it? That... electricity.

"Rookie," he calls out.

Why am I beginning to respond to that? He just refuses to use my name. Why does he do that?

I turn around and cross my arms, just for him to know my discontentment.

He just sets his jaw and continues. "If you feel others take you for granted, it's up to you to change the way they treat you by setting boundaries."

I shake my head. "I'm not going to be the epitome of sailing through without talent. And I'm not. There are boundaries you just cross mine all the time. It stops now."

Eric straightens his spine and stands taller. "You cross mine, constantly," Eric says stiffly. He's not happy about it. I am upset at these words as well.

"No, I do not," I growl, stomping my foot and gritting my teeth.

He smirks like I did something positive... something he wanted. "In what universe would any initiate yell at me in the middle of the hallway? Or talk to me this way?" he folds his arms and I know he won.

I open my mouth to refute it. However, I close it and scowl. No one wants to. No one would. No one wants a death certificate. Why is he letting me toe it, dance on it and cross his lines? Why do I let him do the same? I hate it.

"If people can get over your loudmouth, they'd see your talent. That's something you don't have to argue to prove," Eric tells me, almost soft.

I look back at him. "What's that supposed to mean? Are you trying to insult me?"

"Take it however you want. Draw your inspiration from somewhere else. That's not up to me."

Four would be much better at inspiring me. Why- why do I want Eric to call me talented and-

Oh. I know why Eric looks better than Four. Even though I hate him and he's stupid- Four doesn't send mixed singles. He doesn't make me want to run a whole mile when he says I can't make it another inch. Still, Eric makes me do better. He's been challenging me.

I turn fully before I can do something impulsive.

I'm not as tired or cranky in the morning. It's not hard to wake up and get lost in the sets and repetition of working. The training center is as empty as ever and I'm still beating on the punching bag I found an hour ago. My muscles ache and it feels good.

Then, with my skin glistening with sweat and my chest panting, I collapse onto to bench that Eric and I sit on.

This morning was stupid. I tap on the face of Eric's wristwatch. He didn't take his watch back. Why?

That's the only question I can ask. I've been avoiding him despite me working out in the same spot he finds me every morning. Will wasn't awake and Tris wasn't awake. I don't know what to say to Al.

I lay there and hold my arm up, staring at the ticking watch.

At first, I wonder if there's a bomb or something that I don't know about. Then I wonder if this is some gift.

Is this... something people do? It's a nice thing. It's shiny and looks like he paid a lot to get. I... hate what this implies- because it means nothing- but, but it grew on me. It's so strange to see him hand over something so nice.

Then I wonder about myself. I freaking handed him the flag- as some thank you. It was late, I was euphoric and I really shouldn't have. I don't know why.

This morning, when his hand brushed my wrist, something in me turned on. It's funny because he didn't take the watch back.

Once we did our little boundary dance, I yelled at him and he yelled at me again. I don't know how his heart defrosted and went down a couple of degrees. I don't get him. He just didn't look at me nor did he say anything. I was grateful. I get up and ignore how he taped my knuckles.

-End Chapter-