I am frozen in place, the emotions running through me threatening to make me collapse. Elation, trepidation, respect, pride, disbelief, adoration, and anxiety all jumble together in a mess I can only describe as shock. This is the very last thing I expected to hear from Dante. I can't even speak.
Dante claims that he often says nothing when he can't find the right words. This is different, because I genuinely believe that there are no words. Suddenly, I want desperately to be alone with him, so I can put my arms around him and let him feel this thunder in my chest that he's caused, and hope he'll understand what it means. But that's impossible right now. I stand there in front of him, staring into his eyes. I can't speak. He just looks at me the same way that he has been for the last several minutes, like he's seeing me for the first time.
"You…" my voice comes out a squeak from my constricted throat. I try to relax, and start again. "You made this dress? How? When? I just bought it in the shop by the tattoo parlor today…"
"I started the design in my head on Choosing Day. When it was done, I gave the design to Dale. He gave it to Clara. Clara runs the shop by the tattoo parlor. So she made it, not me," he reaches out and caresses the gathered fabric on my shoulder. "But I did design it around you. I just… never imagined that you'd pick it out on your own." It occurs to me that he is as awestruck by seeing me in this dress, as I am to learn that he designed it with me in mind.
"Dante," I whisper, "this is… I don't even know what to say. 'Amazing' doesn't even begin to cover it. When I bought it, I thought it was incredibly beautiful. And now…" My heart is pounding, my ears burning, and I feel like I am going to laugh and cry at the same time. He just continues to stare at me. Suddenly he steps forward and grabs my wrist with one hand.
"Come with me," he says softly. He leads me down the hallway, away from the Pit, away from the dorms, past the training rooms. The corridor darkens as we proceed farther along, and Dante slows his pace. He slides his fingers down my wrist to my hand and weaves his fingers into my own.
"Where are we going?" I ask presently.
"Somewhere where no one else will be tonight," he replies. I feel a twinge of anxiety when he says this; I'm not sure what his expectations are at this point, and I am not sure that being alone in an unfamiliar place with him is a good idea. But I follow him because I want to trust him.
We emerge onto a room that seems familiar, and when my eyes adjust to the darkness I see the net in the center. This is the entrance to Dauntless Headquarters that we used in Choosing Day, when Dante was the first jumper and I was the thirteenth. He is right about us being alone. There is not a soul in sight, and we passed no one in the corridors leading to this place. We both know that there are guards high above us on the roof above the hole, but here at the bottom it's only us.
We walk up to the edge of the net and he releases my hand. He pulls down one side of the net with one hand, then in one swift motion he wraps his free arm around my waist, lifts me up, turns me around, and deposits me on the edge of the net, seated facing him. He releases his grip and boosts himself onto the edge beside me, moving with an easy grace. The entire process takes less than five seconds, and I suddenly become aware of just how strong Dante actually is. He lifted me like a leaf, then pulled himself onto the net like we was doing something that required no more effort than turning a knob and opening a door.
We sit silently on the edge of the net for a few moments before Dante falls back, bringing up his legs and rolling into the center of the net. I watch him as he sprawls on his back with his hands cradling his head. He looks over at me, extends one hand in my direction, and gestures for me to join him. I am far less graceful than he, but I manage to crawl to his side. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me down beside him. Our faces are inches apart
"Look up," he whispers. I do look up, and I gasp at the sight above me. Through the hole in the ceiling, I see a sky filled with millions of stars. I have not seen the night sky since I left Amity, and I've forgotten how beautiful it is. Dante pulls me close, and I lay my head on his shoulder.
"I missed seeing them," I whisper, hoping he will understand what I mean.
"I thought you might," he murmurs, kissing the side of my head. He knows, of course. Dante, who designed a dress based on the style of my Amity clothes but in Dauntless colors, who envisioned the most beautiful garment I've ever worn; of course he would understand that I missed seeing the stars at night. Having spent his whole life in Dauntless Headquarters, he would know the best place to view them. And on this night, he brought me here to see them because… because…
I turn my face to his, and he kisses me slowly. I close my eyes. I feel like I am going to melt into him. I reach one hand up and touch his chest, over his heart. I can feel it beating, strong and fast beneath my fingertips. I feel his breath against my cheek, and the softness of his lips against mine. When we break apart, I shift to my back and gaze up at the stars. I can't remember a more perfect night in my life.
"Can I tell you something, Dante?" I ask. We are both looking up at the sky.
"Sure," he whispers. I swallow hard.
"I think I'm going to be very happy here," I say simply. I don't want to admit more than that right now, even though there is so much more that I want to say.
"Can I tell you something now?" he asks, surprising me.
"Of course," I encourage him.
"You're beautiful."
I feel my breath catch in my throat, and my heart does a somersault in my chest. I almost gasp.
"No one's ever called me that before. I've always thought I looked so…plain," I cringe a little as my old nickname passes my lips.
"I see why people might think that," he admits. "But they're not seeing what I see. They're not seeing you. When I look at you, I see… life. Vibrant, animated, emotional, and not afraid. I've never known anyone who looks and acts as alive as you do. And I think it's beautiful. I saw it the very first time I saw you, at the Choosing Ceremony, as soon as your blood hit those coals."
"Can I tell you something else?" I ask.
"You don't have to ask."
"This dress... it's amazing. The minute I saw it I knew I had to have it. When I tried it on, I thought it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever worn. But you… when you told me that you had designed it, that made it more than beautiful," I pause. "It's very special. The nicest thing anyone has ever done for me."
He smiles.
"I didn't do it to be nice. I did it because I can't get you off my mind." This time I do gasp. I can't believe that Dante, shy and withdrawn Dante, is admitting this to me.
"I can't say I mind being on it," I tell him. He doesn't reply; just wraps both arms around me and pulls me closer to his side. We lay on the net side by side for a long time, looking up at the stars. Sometimes we talk; sometimes we are quiet. I find that I am growing accustomed to Dante's silences and actually becoming comfortable with them. I am just happy to be in his presence on this night.
After what must be hours, he sits up and tells me that we should get back to our dorms. Even though we don't have training or a curfew for the next few days, the other initiates and our trainers will note our absence. We climb off the net and slip back into the darkness of the corridor to the Pit. I leave Dante at the entrance to his dorm. There are several people walking past, so we can't risk more than a verbal good-night. I watch him disappear behind the door, and retreat to my dorms at the other end of the Pit. Everyone is in bed when I arrive; only the light just inside the door is on. I flip the switch to "off" and make my way quietly towards my bed.
"Rain?" I hear someone whisper ahead of me as I climb beneath the covers.
"Yeah," I whisper back.
"Are you okay? You were gone a long time. We didn't see you at dinner." It's Spencer.
"Sorry, Spencer," I whisper. "I had to talk to somebody about something. It took longer than I thought."
"It's okay. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Well… good night."
"Good night, Spencer."
Even though he's whispering, I hear something in his words that makes me uneasy. Spencer has never expressed concern over me missing meals before. Maybe he just wanted to talk to me, I think, and suddenly I feel horrible. I promised him that I would be there for him if he ever needed to talk, and tonight I abandoned that promise without so much as a second thought. I decide to talk to him at breakfast tomorrow, and to apologize for not keeping my word.
