Some Things Are Hard To Let Go

Resisting Is Worth Doing.

She Must Love Me, To Worry About Me. She Must Still Be Capable Of Love.

She Is Well Practiced In The Art Of Losing Herself.

He Slides His Hand Over My Cheek, One Finger Anchored Behind My Ear. Then He Tilts His Head Down And Kisses Me, Sending A Warm Ache Through My Body. I Wrap My Hands Around His Arm, Holding Him There As Long As I Can. When He Touches Me, The Hollowed-out Feeling In My Chest And Stomach Is Not As Noticeable.

I'm Divergent. And I Can't Be Controlled.