Sometimes I forget that I can hurt you. That you are capable of being hurt

You think giving you a hug would give away too much?" he says.
"You know," I say. "I really don't care."
I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his.
It is the best moment of my life.

He turns toward me. I want to touch him, but I’m afraid of his bareness; afraid that he will make me bare too.
‘Is this scaring you, Tris?’
‘No,’ I croak. I clear my throat. ‘Not really. I’m only…afraid of what I want.’
‘What do you want?’ Then his face tightens. ‘Me?’
Slowly I nod.

You nearly died today,' he says. 'I almost shot you. Why didn't you shoot me, Tris?'
'I couldn't do that,' I say. 'It would have been like shooting myself.'
He looks pained and leans closer to me, so his lips brush mine when he speaks.

What did you do?" I scream.
"You die, I die too.

Aren’t you going to ask me if I’m all right?” I say.
“No, I’m pretty sure you’re not all right.”
He shakes his head. “I’m going to ask you not to make any decisions until we’ve talked
about it.