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.

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.