A/N: Long chapter. Hope you enjoy it :) As always reviews make my day.
The sounds of Tobias coming into our room in Amity stir me, but I'm trapped between my dreams and true wakefulness. I don't know how long he's been there - it could be a minute or an hour -, but I finally force my eyes open to search for him when I don't feel his arms slip around me like I know they should.
He's standing at the window next to the bed, arms crossed across his chest as he gazes out. There's something about it that unnerves me, that makes adrenaline race through my veins and my muscles tense defensively. I shoot up, but it makes the room spin and the best I can do is lean back against the headboard and hold my head in my hands until it stops.
My voice is thick and my brain still hazed in sleep, and I want to ask him if we're under attack, if someone is coming for us, if we're in danger, but all I get out is, "what's wrong?"
"Nothing. I just couldn't sleep." It's so dark I can't really see his expression - there's no moon tonight to shine helpfully through the window -, but his voice is defensive.
I sigh. I was really hoping I wouldn't have to do this. "C'mere," I say softly. Tobias hesitates for a moment before sitting carefully next to me on the bed, letting me take his hand in mine, which I take as a good sign.
As much as I'd rather say what I'm about to say to my hands or the wall, I force myself to look at him. "I really am sorry about what I said today." And I am, but as much as I am and as much as I love him everything inside me revolts at have to say 'I'm sorry' out loud. My pride would rather take another bullet than admit I was so wrong to say what I did that I'd even need to apologize.
Tobias doesn't say anything at first, but his hand relaxes in mine, and I know that even if he can't forget what I said, he can at least pretend to. I want to ask him what is keeping him up after such a long day but I have a feeling that would reopen the wound we've only just managed to close, so I don't say anything.
"Were you having a nightmare?" He eventually asks.
I try to cudgel my brain to recall anything, but all it comes up with is a series of disjointed images that I can't make sense of. "No, just dreaming, I think. You should sleep though," I say gently.
"I'm not that tired." His voice is flat, and it's a tone that I recognize, though I haven't heard it for months. The same tone he used after we returned to the Pit when he didn't want to sleep because he didn't want to dream.
"Then just lay with me." I tug on his hand, coaxing him towards down and shifting around so that his head is resting on me stomach. He kicks his shoes off and pulls his knees up. There's something childlike about the action, something vulnerable, and it makes me think that maybe he needs this like I needed him the last time we were in Amity.
He hums to himself - a sound lodged in the back of his throat that conveys contentment better than words - at the feel of my fingers carding through his hair. He still keeps it longish, Dauntless, and the curls wrap around my fingers loosely. "Did you finish with the computers?"
"Yes," he murmurs, voice quiet because it feels like a time for soft voices. "We can go home in the morning."
"Did you have to hide Micah's body?"
"No," he chuckles.
"Good. I don't think that would be good for Dauntless-Amity relations."
"You and Robert seem to get along just fine," he grumps.
"That's because he doesn't know me like you do." It's the best I can do; try to dismiss it, make it a joke, make Robert worthless even though there's a part of me that likes that Tobias is jealous. But I squash it down because there have been times where I have been jealous, when I have seen girls looking at him and felt like I wanted to break them in half and I know it's not any more pleasant for him than it was for me.
"Was there something between you two in Abnegation?"
"No. We were thrown together a lot because of Caleb and Susan, but we were never close." I don't tell Tobias that if Robert and I had stayed in Abnegation we probably would have ended up married. Marrying Robert would have been an act of defeat, of selflessly accepting my lot in life, not love.
"I could never love him, never would have sacrificed myself to Erudite to save him like I did for you." The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them or realize their weight. He knows that's why I went there, but I've never said the words - out loud -, to him. It is hard to speak the truth though, to make yourself vulnerable by admitting how much power your love of someone holds over you.
My cheeks flush viciously, burning bright at the admission. "I would have gone, if you didn't," he says.
"I know." But I couldn't just let that happen without a fight, the same way I couldn't shoot him that night in the Control Room. Not that sacrificing myself did any good; he still turned himself in just like I did. His angry 'You die, I die too,' still haunts my nightmares sometimes.
He goes very silent and very still for a moment before he speaks and I can feel the discomfort his words are creating before they even get out of his mouth. "You never asked why I haven't asked you to marry me."
"I'm not sure I want to know the answer to that," I breathe out. As backwards as it sounds the one time the thought flitted across my mind all I felt was a stab of terror that he hadn't, despite the fact I would have said no. After that every time my thoughts have wandered near the subject I shut them down.
"It's because I can't trust you," he says slowly, focusing on my fingers as he twists his through mine. "I can't trust you to want to stay alive if things go shit side up again."
The first thing I feel is hurt, deep and aching, that he can't trust me after everything we've been through. The second thing I feel is anger because he's being a hypocrite. Even though we both deny it, it's our deepest nature to be selfless and not because it was ingrained in childhood, because it's who we are when you strip everything else away.
I wouldn't 'needlessly' throw my life away as I tried to do when I was consumed by grief, but there are still people I would die for, and so would he. To ask each other to stay alive in the face of a worthwhile sacrifice... it's the most selfish thing we can ask each other.
And it makes me want to push Tobias off, makes the weight of him against me feel restraining, not warm and familiar and wanted. And it feels like he's punishing me, or giving me an ultimatum like he did that day in Candor headquarters.
But before I can do more than silently stew in outrage there's a soft, urgent tap on the door, and my name being whispered through the crack of the doorjamb. Unlike before it makes terror slide down my spine, sharp and cold because those soft noises spell danger.
Tobias slides off the bed silently, passing my jeans up from where I left them on the floor before pulling a handgun out of the drawer in the bedside table. He checks there's a bullet in the chamber and stations himself behind the door.
My hands are sweat slick, and my breath is coming quick and shallow, but my voice is steady when I ask who it is, keeping to the side of the door in case the person on the other side is planning to put a bullet through it at the sound of my voice.
"It's Thomas, I need to talk to you," he says hurriedly.
There are a million questions that cross my mind, but they don't include things like why he's here now, why he couldn't wait until we'd normally be awake. Obviously something is going on, something he needs to keep secret.
Tobias nods to me silently and I twist open the door and take a step back. As soon as Thomas is inside Tobias silently closes the door, and - if the way Thomas freezes in place is any indication - puts the gun to his head. I would chastise him for the whole thing, but I know the lecture I'd get in return so I keep my mouth shut. Once he's sure he is unarmed Tobias steps around to stand next to me.
"Who are you?" He asks harshly, slipping into Four's voice.
"Thomas Farlan, from Abnegation," I answer for him since he seems temporarily struck dumb. "I spoke to him earlier. Marcus was living with him and his brother before he disappeared." Tobias inhales sharply next to me and I realize that's not much of a recommendation. "They had to leave because of the Factionless," I add, trying to smooth things over.
"Look, I don't know what you two are doing here, but it hasn't gone unnoticed," Thomas says, voice edging into tones of a hysteria. "Since you talked to me the only way I've been able to escape the Factionless guards following me around is by pretending to be asleep and sneaking out my window!" he almost shouts.
"Well, if you want them to find you, you're doing a great job screaming your head off," Tobias says sarcastically. He pushes him aside and cracks the door open, checking to see if there's anyone in the hallway, before crossing to the window and checking out there as well. "Sit," he says sternly, dragging the single chair in the room from the wall so it faced the end of our bed and directing Thomas into it. "Talk."
He hesitates, and even in the gloom I can see his fingers twitching, his knee bouncing nervously. "I shouldn't even know this," he finally mutters. "And I didn't hear it from Marcus, but I overheard one of the other leaders mentioning that if we didn't leave the city soon we might have 'visitors'; it didn't sound like they'd be very friendly."
It's not a revelation that there are other people outside the gates, not after Edith Prior's video. What's worrying is that if they mean us harm all they would have to do is mass at the fence, cutting the city off from the life-giving food supply Amity provides. Even if they don't, we may not be able to defend ourselves because despite the refugees Dauntless is still the only faction trained to fight and our numbers are not great.
While I'm processing all that Tobias stands up and starts to pace. "Have you told anyone else this?"
"My brother, that's it."
"Has he?"
"No," Thomas says with certainty. I don't doubt it, and neither, it appears, does Tobias.
"Is doesn't explain why the Factionless are so interested in you."
"Maybe it's enough that Marcus was living with him; maybe they just assumed he knows what was going on because of it," I say.
"Maybe."
"He's not safe here either way. He has to come back to Dauntless with us, his brother and Susan too." I know the latter is going to be problematic.
"We might need them," Tobias says musingly. "A lot of the Abnegation still don't trust us after what happened. Having them helping will make things easier if we need to evacuate that part of the city."
"Why would we need to?" Thomas interrupts, bewildered.
"Aside from the Factionless? You people are just walking, talking targets unwilling to defend yourselves," Tobias says scathingly.
"Stop it," I snap.
Tobias huffs in irritation, but doesn't challenge me. "We need to leave. Now. Right now, if we want leave unnoticed by the guards. Can you get Susan?"
"I don't know, she didn't want to come with me when Robert and I talked to her earlier; she doesn't want to learn to fight."
"Tell her we'll find her a job in the Infirmary or something, anything."
"I'll try," I say rising to my feet. "What about his brother?"
"He's awake, waiting for me to come back. I think we can both get out the window without anyone noticing."
"Okay. Meet me on the backside of Johanna's office in fifteen minutes. If you're not there we're leaving without you." Tobias checks the coast is clear and then lets Thomas out the door. He stops me though, with a hand on my shoulder. "Fifteen minutes, Tris. If you can't convince Susan we have to leave her."
I swallow thickly. The idea makes me uncomfortable. More than uncomfortable, it feels wrong.
"Tris?"
"Okay," I eek out.
"Promise me."
"I promise," I say more steadily than I feel. I don't know if he believes me, but he does let me go. Luckily Susan is staying the in same building we are, and though there may be guards outside, there are none inside.
I want to bang on her door, but I know that will wake everyone up, so I force myself to knock on her door just as Thomas knocked on ours. A minute later it opens to reveal Susan clutching her robe around herself, hair loose and tangled. I ignore her spluttering and push my way into her room.
She winces as I grab her shoulders, either out of shock or pain, but I don't stop because I need her to realize how urgent the situation is. "You need to come with me. Back to Dauntless, and we need to leave now, Susan."
"I can't... what are you talking about?"
"You're not safe here. I need you to come with me, and if you don't so help me I'll have Robert drug you and stuff you in an apple barrel and deliver you to Dauntless!" I say desperately, though it's probably true I could make that happen; Robert is more worried about her than I am.
"I don't understand," she says slowly. "Has something happened?"
I bite my lip, debating. I know what happened to Thomas won't be enough to convince her to leave; frightening as it is, it's something she would easily brush off. But even if it's not an outright threat, it's behavior that promises violence, and Susan... it's not that she has no will to survive, it's that she has zero sense of when she's in danger. I'm not sure which one is worse, so I lie. Sort of.
"Yes, something happened," I say without being specific. And then I do something worse. "When I saw Marcus he wanted save haven in Dauntless for himself and the what remains of Abnegation. Now that he's gone... we will need your help - and the Farlan's help - in case we need to evacuate that part of the city."
Susan is Abnegation to the core, and as my appeal to her selflessness sinks in I can feel her muscles relax under my hands. "Okay," she says nervously, wiggling out from under my grip and moving to the dresser to pull clothes out.
"Nothing you can't shove in a bag and carry. And hurry we only have ten minutes to meet Tobias or he'll leave without us," I remind her. It would probably have been more accurate to say, 'or Tobias will drag me back to Dauntless by my hair if he has to and leave you here'.
It feels like the minutes speed by, and I silently berate myself for not grabbing my knife and bag before I left my room because it means wasted time having to go back and get them, but there's nothing else to do. There's a Dauntless guard waiting for me though, bag and knife in one of his large hands, and his gun in the other.
He nods to me reassuringly, but I have to prod Susan forward, even the sight of him is enough to intimidate her. It might be for me too, but despite his imposing stature and bald head decorated in tattoos he's Dauntless and so am I, and obviously he's here to help us.
He hesitates at the door that leads outside, but it feels cursory. I don't ask where the Factionless guard that's supposed to be there is. I have a feeling it's better not to know. He stays in front us, leading us through the maze of buildings, always carefully peeking around them before letting us out in the open to cross from one to the other.
The Farlan's are milling around as Tobias and Johanna pour over a small map, but the look on his face when he spots me is pure relief. Our guard stands by stoically, keeping watch.
"Robert," Susan suddenly whispers. "He'll panic if he wakes up and I'm gone."
"He'll know you came with us, once it's discovered who is missing," I say soothingly, but she still looks unsure. I wait until Johanna and Tobias' impromptu meeting concludes and we're saying our farewells to ask her to tell Robert what happened, and finally Susan looks mollified.
Tobias leads us through the orchards and into the fields, away from the road that leads to the fence and the train and the city. It makes sense; clearly we want to put as much distance between us and Amity and make sure no one notices we're gone until it's too late. I am surprised though, that we retain our guard, but it's probably a good thing since my hands are full keeping Susan upright and moving forward as she stumbles her way through the dark.
In the predawn hours it's bitterly cold, our breath escaping in thick white plumes. We're all well padded against it, but after a while my nose feels frozen and my fingers start to loose feeling where they're gripped around Susan's elbow.
Whatever route we're taking is circuitous, and we have to stop several times just so that Tobias can pull the map and a handheld device that has a small screen displaying two strings of numbers and a small compass so we know where we are in relation to where we're supposed to be. But when the first rays of dawn lighten the eastern sky the fence comes into view.
We stop and rest, warming ourselves up with thermoses of coffee and tea before attempting to scale it. I expect Susan to shrink at the challenge, but she visibly steels herself and claws her hands into the chainlink. The height is unnerving - fifteen feet straight up -, but if you don't look down it's not too bad.
Wherever we are there are no train tracks, and it occurs to me that we might be making our back to Dauntless entirely on foot. For a moment exhaustion crushes me. Most of us have barely slept - Tobias hasn't slept at all -, and I have no idea how much further we have to go. I keep my mouth shut though; whining about it won't make the distance any less.
Hours later when the sun is high in the sky and we finally file through the door of the Pire we're exhausted, bedraggled, and everything hurts. Never have I been happier to see Tori, including when I found out she had survived the simulation attack and escaped Erudite. Of course it might have something to do with the food for us she had brought up to the conference room beckoning warm and inviting.
Once we eat and Abnegation among us tell her and Harrison what they told us, they become my problem as Tobias and the other leaders grapple with the greater problems they present. I have to find them rooms, makes sure they have beds and fresh linens, assign them jobs. As they follow me around Dauntless like wide-eyed pets I point out the dining room, infirmary, and shops.
Luckily Tobias' old apartment is empty as is the one next to it. The Farlan brothers room together, but I don't want to leave Susan alone, so I find one of our Abnegation trainees - Rebecca - to stay with her; I know if she doesn't have someone holding her hand she'll never leave the room.
'Fear God Alone' is still emblazoned in blue on the wall, but both girls shrug indifferently when I tell them they're free to paint over it if they like. I know this room so well, down to the faint boot mark on the ceiling from when Tobias came home drunk one night and kicked his shoes off so forcefully they left that reminder, or so he told me. It looks strange with two single beds and beat up couch and table, but by the time I leave Susan and Rebecca are well on their way to making it their new home.
I feel drugged as I walk through the Pit, head spinning and disconnected from my body. My limbs are heavy with fatigue and instead of taking the stairs to the Pire I huddle in the service elevator. I wonder if Tobias will be in bed already on my way up, but our bed is empty and cold when I fall into it. I pull a pillow over my head to block out the late afternoon sun and fall asleep in seconds, still doing the mental math for how long I've been awake and guessing how far we walked.
The first time I wake up it's dark out, and Tobias' arm is warm and heavy slung across my middle. I struggle out of my pants which have become an annoying constriction, but my eyes are too fuzzy to focus on the glow of the digital clock to see what time it is, and I'm too tired and achy to really care anyway.
The second time I wake up I'm molded against his back and he smells like sweat and exhaustion. My mouth is parched and though I'd rather stay in bed it drives me to my feet. I'm stiff and sore as I stumble into the kitchen and grab a few bottles of water out of the fridge. I drain one along with a few pain pills and he mumbles something unintelligible when he feels my arms wrap around him again.
The third time I'm called into wakefulness by Tobias' shifting around uncomfortably, and once my eyes peel open I'm too awake to go back to sleep and too tired to get up and take the shower I know I need. The clock reads four in the morning and I realize with a shock that it's been a full twenty four hours since we left Amity. It feels like a lifetime ago.
It takes him another half hour to give up on sleep and pull me close. He doesn't say anything for a long time, just keeps smoothing his hand up and down my arm resting on his chest and pecking the occasional kiss to my hair. "Tori and Harrison knew about Marcus," he says eventually. "One of the other Abnegation leaders talked to him on the first day of the trials and they sent out a few people to look for him. They didn't find anything."
His voice is annoyed and I don't know if it's because he was kept out of the loop or because he thinks it was a waste of resources. Probably both. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"There's nothing to talk about," he says with finality.
I huff in annoyance because there is and his shutting me out is like my unwillingness to stay alive, but I know pushing him is the wrong thing to do. If anything it will just make him even more resistant because sometimes we are too much like each other. "What are you going to do about the Abnegation?"
"I don't know yet," he says as he rubs at his face in frustration. "I don't know if we can realistically support them here; Dauntless was never designed to house that many people. There's a building on the east side of the Pire we could fix up and house them in, but it's going to take time. Harrison is going over there today to meet with him, so we're having someone take his place in the judging of the fear landscapes."
My head pops up to squint at the glow of the clock. I completely forgot our trainees were going through their fear landscapes today. Luckily Christina said she would make sure they're all there, but I still have to be there, and so does Tobias to judge them. I flop back down; we've still got hours until the appointed time.
"Do you want to try and go back to sleep?"
"No. I'm too awake for that," I say, snuggling closer to him, desperate to hold on as other thoughts invade my mind. "This feels bad, Tobias, like the city is dividing up for war again."
"I know." He rolls over, pinning me under him with a leg between mine and his hands on either side of my face. "I need to know you're going to try to stay alive, Tris. I can't go through that again with you."
He tries to keep his voice calm but I can hear the fear in it, the desperation that mirrors my own, and it clenches around my heart painfully. There's a part of me that wants to snap, 'if you will, I will,' but this isn't a time for a quid pro quo. Instead I reach up, cradle his cheek in my hand and whisper, "always".
And like it was in Amity his relief is unmistakable. Even if he doesn't articulate it I can feel it radiating off of him as he kisses me. Quickly, our kisses turn hungry, demanding; the kind of kisses that leave me wanting more and feeling like I'll never be sated. I toss his shirt away and blindly trace the designs that are a permanent part of him, enjoying the feel of the way his muscles move under my touch when he rids me of my panties and slips first one finger, and then another inside of me.
I missed this. I missed feeling this need for him. I missed feeling him warm and solid and steady over me. I missed wanting more of him. And that thought pulls me up short. Of course he's a teenaged boy so he's probably always thinking about sex in one way or another, and me saying 'hey, I really want to have sex with you' would be all the permission he needs, but I'm not sure I can do that. The thought alone is kind of mortifying because as much as I do want to sleep with him, I'm not Christina, not used to having to give those desires voice.
"Hurts?" He asks stilling his hand when he notices me biting my lip.
"Wha... don't stop!" The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them, and all I want to do is cover my face with my hands and hide from my humiliation when I feel him chuckle. "Jerk," I halfheartedly mumur, but his lips on my neck make me forget everything else for a while.
It just feels so good. Like everything inside of me is alive at his touch. I can feel him from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, and finally it's too much, and I grab his wrist. "I'm not ready to finish yet," I mumble, hoping that's enough to convey what I want.
"Are you sure?" The nervousness in his voice makes me smile because I'm nervous too.
"Positive."
"Tell me if it hurts, if you need me to stop," he says hastily, fumbling as he tries to shimmy out of his boxers and keep touching me at the same time. He doesn't miss though the way my muscles tense, anticipating the pain of last time as he positions himself at my entrance. He grabs onto my hip, reminds me to breathe, and makes me look at him in the soft dawn light reflecting through our window from the buildings around us.
He rocks into me a careful inch, and back out, each time sinking deeper until he's fully inside of me. "Okay?"
It doesn't feel as great as his fingers did, but it's not painful, just a little burn following the stretch. "Fine," I nod. "Just go slow at first."
"Are you sure?" He asks again and I feel like rolling my eyes.
"Yes."
"Tell me when to go faster."
The longer he goes on talking the further and further I can feel my release slipping away from me, so I knot a hand into his hair and press my lips to his, encouraging him, and mercifully he starts moving. A minute later it stops hurting completely and just feels good. Not as good as before, but good nonetheless.
Of course without the pain distracting me like the first time I've got a million things flitting through my head, chief among them, what to do with my legs. I can't just let them flop there, so I try wrapping one around him, but it's hard to find purchase to keep it there with him moving, and I'm not sure it's the best solution anyway since it constrains him a bit. I settle for pressing my thighs against his hips and the rest of my legs tangled in his.
Still, it doesn't seem right just laying there, letting him do all the work if for no other reason than I feel scattered, not really focused on him in the way I was earlier. He shifts around and ends up pulling my hair so harshly I hiss in pain and we have to stop altogether for a minute so I can twist it around and secure it behind my head and now it's just starting to feel awkward instead of charged.
I try to keep my hands and lips busy, try to focus on him, but nothing really seems to be helping. "Do you want to go on top?" He asks, a little breathless from exertion, and it makes me wonder if he can feel the energy slipping away between us.
"I don't... I don't know how to do that," I stutter, instantly nervous.
"I'll help you," he says reassuringly. "It might be better... for you, I mean."
I swallow down the lump my throat, full of worry that this might not be working for him either, and I won't be any better on top of him than I am under him. "Okay," I say uncertainly.
He rolls off, settling himself on the bed before coaxing me on top, his hands gentle and patient, his whole being exuding tenderness. It reminds me of being in the training rooms, of him teaching me how to fight and telling me to always keep tension in my stomach. He guides me with one hand and lines our bodies up with the other, allowing me to sink down slowly on top of him.
My face scrunches up a little once he hits something solid inside of me. "Hurts?"
"No," I shake my head, trying to find the words for what I'm feeling. "Just... deep, I guess. It doesn't hurt, exactly."
"Are you sure?"
"It's fine," I snap, annoyed with having to answer that question yet again.
He doesn't look like he believes me, but he doesn't argue either. I let his hands guide me up and down, and once we work out a rhythm between us I can feel him relax again. His hands start venturing away from my hips, up my sides to my chest, and back down again. His eyes seem transfixed on me, and though it's nothing but loving, it still reminds me of everything I'm not, makes me wish I had curvy hips and heavy breasts. His gaze leaves me feeling exposed, on display, vulnerable in a way I wasn't when I was safely under him.
"Tris?"
My eyes snap open and I hadn't even realized I pinched them shut in the first place. I don't know what my face must look like, but Tobias' expression is full of concern. "I don't like this." My voice sounds fragile, on the brink of tears.
He swings up, one arm around my waist and the other reaching up to touch my cheek. "What's wrong?"
More than anything I want to ask for my shirt back. I think I could do this if I was covered. Or if the lights were out and he couldn't see me. But all that does is frustrate me because Tobias has seen me like this before, told me he loves me and thinks I'm beautiful and wants me. And I'm not just going to throw my shirt on and give in to my fear.
I bow my head to his shoulder, thinking of ways that I can make this more bearable. And it takes me a minute to realize that this is okay, him sitting up. I like the feel of him against me, and I don't feel as exposed now. "Can you stay sitting up?" I ask, my voice an inch tall. "Do you think that will work?"
"We'll make it work," he reassures me.
We start moving again, but even with him lifting a little it's hard to find a consistent rhythm, but he scoots us a little closer to the pillows I can keep one arm around his shoulders and the other braced on the wall and slowly it starts to feel good again. Better than good, even though a thin layer of sweat breaks out across my skin and my hair refuses to stay tucked behind my ears.
As I slide down he surges up and hits something inside of me that leaves me whimpering his name and a smug smile turning up his lips. It still feels deep, but now it doesn't feel weird just feels good. So amazingly good. And it helps that I don't have to play fifty questions because now I can focus on the way his chest feels against my nipples and how one of his hands in splayed between my shoulder blades, holding me firmly while he nips at me.
And even though it's a little awkward when his free hand slips between us I just don't care because it's all I need to come with a cry that I try and muffle in his neck. And in my haze I don't care either when he tips me backwards onto the bed and thrusts into me harshly, chasing his own end. By the time the last vestiges of my orgasm leave he stiffens in my arms and spills inside of me.
He collapses on top of me and it should feel uncomfortable and restraining, but I like it. I like it even more when he peels his forehead off my shoulder and looks at me with a goofy, boyish grin plastered across his face that he can't seem to get rid of the rest of the morning.