Every tattoo I got with them is a mark of their friendship, and almost every time I have laughed in this dark place was because of them. I don’t want to lose them. But I feel like I have already.

I fell in love with him. But I don't just stay with him by default as if there's no one else available to me. I stay with him because I choose to, every day that I wake up, every day that we fight or lie to each other or disappoint each other. I choose him over and over again, and he chooses me.

I hear footsteps and Four's hands wrap around my wrists. I let him pry my hands from my eyes. He encloses one of my hands perfectly between two of his. The warmth of his skin overwhelms the ache in my fingers from holding the bars. "You all right?" he asks, pressing our hands together. "Yeah." He starts to laugh.

Before she got here everything had stalled inside me, and every morning I was just moving toward nighttime.

Maybe I was afraid to trust him with something so personal as my devotion.

It doesn't prove anything except that you're bullying us. Which, as I recall, is a sign of cowardice.

What irritates me most about him is his natural goodness, his inborn selflessness.