It's Like He Knows, He Knows I

He Touches My Face, Covering My Cheeks With His Hands, Sliding His Fingertips Down My Neck, Fitting His Fingers To The Slight Curve Of My Hips. I Can't Stop.

I Wonder If This Is How Is Is With All Evil Men, That To Someone, They Look Just Like Good Men, Talk Like Good Men, Are Just As Likable As Good Men.

Some People Believe That I Will Go Nowhere, And Maybe They're Right, But Maybe They're Not.

Caleb And Tris Exchange A Look. The Skin On His Face And On Her Knuckles Is Nearly The Same Colour, Purple-blue-green, As If Drawn With Ink. This Is What Happens When Siblings Collide - They Injure Each Other In The Same Way.

And I Provide Much- Needed Eye Candy.