I Might Be In Love With You."

"but Please, When You See An Opportunity..." He Presses His Hand To My Cheek, Cold And Strong, And Tilts My Head Up So I Have To Look At Him. His Eyes Glint. They Almost Look Predatory. "ruin Them."

Christina,'i Say,'the Factionless Have All The Guns.

'divergent' Was My Utopian World. I Mean, That Wasn't The Plan. I Never Even Set Out To Write Dystopian Fiction, That's Just What I Had When I Was Finished. At The Beginning, I Was Just Writing About A Place I Found Interesting And A Character With A Compelling Story, And As I Began To Build The World, I Realized That It Was My Utopia.

His Hands Skim My Bare Arms. “just Bounce A Little When You Walk,” He Says, Kissing My Forehead, “and Pretend You’re Afraid Of Their Guns” —another Kiss Between My Eyebrows— “and Act Like The Shrinking Violet You Could Never Be ”—a Kiss On My Cheek— “and You’ll Be Fine.

So Now We All Know," Says Four, Quietly, "that You Are Afraid Of A Short, Skinny Girl From Abnegation." His Mouth Curls Into A Smile.