"Você me desenha, eu tiro foto sua" retruquei, divertido, tirando outra. É, ela parecia ser bem fotogênica mesmo com a cara parcialmente amassada e o cabelo parecendo estar sem começo nem fim "Acho uma troca justa" - à adorável e divertida MR27

Sempre havia o primeiro gole; ela só não achava que o gosto dele seria delicioso o bastante para que ela se viciasse. E sempre havia o último; ele só não achava que fosse tão difícil parar quando o gosto era deliciosamente inebriante.

Every conversation they had about kids ended in his saying 'someday, maybe' and really meaning 'no', and her nodding in agreement in a vague sort of way. But Tobias didn't miss the times Tris looked at Zeke's daughter like she was trying to imagine her with deep blue eyes and dirty blonde hair when she thought no one was looking.

He kisses my lips and then each of the four birds tattooed under my collarbone, lingering a little longer on the newest one; the one closest to my heart; the one that represents him. Post-Insurgent/Tris' fear of intimacy.

When Tobias swings the bathroom door open he finds Tris slumped against the wall across from the toilet - head back, eyes closed, clearly miserable. She flings the pink plastic pregnancy test at him. "This is your fault," she mumbles. *The story of Tris' second pregnancy in the Patterns & Fairytales universe*

Every year Tobias helps Benjamin make a Christmas present for Tris. But this year, for the first time, Benjamin is helping Tobias make Tris a Christmas gift. And it's a really, really good one, he thinks. *A story of Christmas surprises set in the Patterns & Fairytales universe.*

She smiles up from the nook on his shoulder that was made for her, fingers dancing across the stubble on his cheeks, and her eyes are so full love and trust and tenderness and this is his life, that whatever else is going on around them doesn't matter.

Porque, com James, houve várias. Dedicada à Bia - acho que só eu sei o motivo *-*