Chapter 25: Simply Happy

All poems are by Rupi Kaur from a collection of poems call "Milk and Honey." It is absolutely amazing, 10/10. It changed my perspective on life and I truly hope it can change yours.

I roll over, breathless. Tris's eyes are closed, and she's grinning the widest grin I've ever seen. Her hair is spread all across her pillow, messy. When she rolls on her side and opens her eyes, they are bluer than ever.

So much for moving slow, like I promised myself I would.

"You," I say softly. I pause, shaking my head. "You are so beautiful."

Tris moves so her head is lying on my shoulder and her leg is across my body. "Do you realize how so totally in love with you I am?"

I shake my head. "Tell me. You are a poet, aren't you?"

She rolls over again and gets up from the bed. Bare, I see her bottom move back and forth, her hips swaying. She grabs her journal from her desk, and walks back over. First, she grabs my button-up shirt and puts it on.

"Stunning," I tell her.

She lies on her stomach and props her elbows up so she can hold the book.

"God, there's too many," she laughs. "I love writing about you. It's so easy. Oh, okay, here's one."

She shakes her head while reading it to herself, astounded by her own feelings she probably just realized were so strong.

"i know i

should crumble

for better reasons

but have you seen

that boy he brings

the sun to its

knees every

night"

"I don't know how to explain this one. And that's how poems should make you feel, right? Speechless?"

I nod. "Your words are so beautiful, Tris."

"Last one, I promise."

"Woah," I interrupt. "You make it sound like this is a drag. I adore everything about you—especially your words. I could listen to your voice—your poems—for the rest of my life, Tris."

She grins and then looks down at the book again.

"love is not cruel

we are cruel

love is not a game

we have made a game

out of love"

She shrugs. "I wrote this on the way to Australia. It was just how I felt after… everything. I was the one who made it a game. I should've talked you about instead of writing a damn note… And I just… God, I feel like I just tortured you these past years, making you feel like shit, teasing you… I don't know."

"Tris." I sit up. "Here's the thing. We're both responsible for the way things ended up. You are not a prize to be won. You did not 'advertise' yourself to me, because you are not a product. You needed to be with me when you were ready, and it is that simple. I don't regret the way things happened, because if things happened differently, who knows where we'd be?"

Tris grins, sets her book down, and throws her legs on either side of me. She almost goes to respond, but she can tell she doesn't even need to by the look in my eyes.

"Unbelievable," I whisper. "Absolutely unbelievable."

"What?" she whispers, leaning over, her lips coming closer and closer. "Can't believe your eyes?"

I shake my head. "I will never believe my eyes."

Her lips briefly touch mine, but a ringing interrupts.

She groans, and then reaches over to her phone.

"Prior. Max. 3? Seriously?" Another groan. "Fine. Yeah. You too."

"Please tell me we aren't leaving at three in morning, babe," I say as she remains on top of me.

"We're leaving at three in the morning. And… ugh, it's ten o'clock. I didn't think it was this late."

"Late night shower?" I ask.

She grins and gets up from her current position, walking to her bathroom. I see my shirt slip off of her smooth body, and I'm left seeing her bare back. She twists her head around as she turns on the shower. The clear glass hides nothing, and as she steps in, she runs her hands through her hair and closes her eyes.

I shake my head and get up, following her.

Hesitantly, I follow her into the shower. She slides the door open for me, and then pulls me in. She tugs on my hair, pulling me down to her lips.

I was happy while in Tongareva. Truly. I know now, that I am able to be happy without Tris, but when I'm with her, it's like it is happiness on acid or speed or something. I'm usually better at explaining my emotions, due to the fact I am a writer, but she simply makes me go into overload; I have so many things to say and do that the only way to show her how much I care for her is through my writing.

I pull back and lean my forehead against hers.

"Happy," I say simply.

She gives a small laugh. "What?"

"Happy. Simple. If this isn't true happiness, I don't know what is."

Tris kisses me again. "Couldn't agree more."

When we arrive in Venezuela, it's hotter than we expected. It was only ten degrees in D.C., now it's about 65 degrees. At eight o'clock at night though, it tends to get a little chillier than normal. So, of course, I give my jacket to Tris, knowing very well that I will probably never get it back.

We quickly arrive at the hotel, since the party begins at nine. We hurriedly get ready for the party. More so, I get ready quickly. It only takes me a couple minutes to put on my suit, but it takes a bit longer for her to do her makeup and hair. The result, though, is worth the wait. She is absolutely stunning, like usual.

"Heavenly."

I slowly grab her hips and pull her closer to me. A slow kiss is all we have time for, so I grab her hand and entwine our fingers.

"So, for Oliver Montag, will I be single or married? Max never clarified, so I guess it's up to us," Tris says open-endedly.

I shrug. "What works best for the mission?"

She shrugs as well. "I don't know. I'm glad our relationship doesn't affect the way we work though. No jealousy."

I chuckle. "Well, maybe I'll dream about hurting every guy who looks at you, but, of course, I will not do that out of respect for the love of my life."

Tris giggles. "I appreciate it. I think that Colombia with Morales was one of our best-executed missions. I portrayed a young, outgoing, charming girl while you act as the submissive boyfriend who somehow got lucky enough to score the wild girl, when really they have everything in common."

"Which is absolutely true in reality. You are extroverted and I am in no way outgoing. Can't deny it," I argue.

She shakes her head, looking down, and a strand of her hair strays loose from her bun. "But you're my equal. Not submissive."

I laugh, and we walk into the party, which has already started. It is Venezuelan culture to arrive late, so we've made sure to do so. One of the greatest things about travelling all over the world is learning about the cultures and their beliefs. It is amazing how the human culture can develop into so many different branches of ways of life.

Tris walks directly over to the bar, dragging me by our linked hands. "Dos Cuba Libres por favor," she asks the bartender.

"Hey," I say, "what if I didn't want… whatever that is."

She laughs. "Trust me, you want a Cuba Libre. Rum and Coke. The Coke is absolutely outstanding here."

I chuckle. "Fair enough."

When the bartender finishes making our drinks, Tris thanks him and gives a smile.

"Care to dance?" she asks. She shakes her hips back and forth to South American music, grabs my hand and pulls me closer to her on the dance floor. I take a sip of my drink then make a sour face; one that a child might make when sucking on a lemon.

"Strong," I explain, "yet tasty."

Tris shakes her head, smirking. Tris attempts to shout over the music, but I'm unable to hear.

"What?" I shout.

She waves a hand of dismissal. "Later," I see come from her lips.

I shake my head then drag her off the dance floor. We walk over to the back porch, when bass in rumbling through the deck.

"I've learned so much over these past couple months, including that life is too short. So, tell me what's up," I insist.

She grins. "I love you."

I shake my head. "I love you too, but that's not what you said."

Her face gets a little bit darker, and she mumbles something.

I smirk, and then she grabs my hand. "I don't think I heard you," I tell her.

She smiles. "I'm just… I don't know. I really did say I love you out there though. Now's not really the time, but there's no way you're letting me go unless I say something important. I was going to tell you how much I appreciate you, because obviously you hate being here. I understand. I know you love your job and everything and working together… but I don't know. If you want to switch partners or something—"

"Tris," I laugh. "No. This job is one of the best things that ever happened to me. This crazy, dangerous, risky, terrible, wonderful job is the reason we are even possible. I never want you to stop being my partner while we are in the CIA. But we're moving to Lyon. We should move to Lyon, Tris."

She steps back in joyful laughter. "Are you serious, Tobias? You'll do it? You're willing to do this for me?" She steps closer, then lies a hand on my cheek. "For us?"

I smile. "Not only for you, but me as well. I believe that I would be so much happier in France with you, teaching. We could get an apartment together, or a house, whichever you want. A dog, since you hate cats. Decorate however we want, since you've always loved doing that."

Her hand covers her mouth and she has tears in her eyes. Quickly, she wraps her arms around me, standing on her tiptoes, hugging me like there's no tomorrow.

"I can't wait," she whispers. I can hear the happiness and hope in her voice. "Okay," she says as she pulls back. "Let's go. We've got a job to do. We have to survive in order to look for places in France."

"I suppose—"

"What's the ruckus about?" a man shouts to us. He grins as he saunters over in a drunken stupor. "Have we got some good news?"

Tris looks at me with wide eyes, and then completely changes her expression when she looks at Oliver.

"Oliver, it's been too long!" she acts. His facial expression exudes confusion, so she portrays a look of hurt. "You don't remember? Shame, Oliver! It is I, Mariana, and my boyfriend Jack."

"Jack… Mariana…" Oliver mumbles. "Ah, yes! Jack and Mariana! It has been too long, my friends…"