He moves his thumb in a slow circle over the back of my hand. It is meant to comfort me, but it frustrates me instead. I need to talk to him. I need to look at him.
Veronica RothThe man running toward me is not a man, he is a boy. A shaggy-haired boy with a crease between his eyebrows. Will. Dull-eyed and mindless, but still Will. He stops running and mirrors me, his feet planted and his gun up. In an instant, I see his finger poised over the trigger and hear the bullet slide into the chamber, and I fire. My eyes squeezed shut. Can't breathe. The bullet hit him in the head. I know because that's where I aimed it.
Veronica RothHe turns toward me. I want to touch him, but Iโm afraid of his bareness; afraid that he will make me bare too. โIs this scaring you, Tris?โ โNo,โ I croak. I clear my throat. โNot really. Iโm onlyโฆafraid of what I want.โ โWhat do you want?โ Then his face tightens. โMe?โ Slowly I nod.
Veronica RothWhat do--" Tobias's voice. Tobias! "Oh my God. Oh--" "Spare me your blubbering, okay? Peter says. "She's not dead; she's just paralyzed. It'll only last for about a minute. Now get ready to run." I don't understand. How does Peter know? "Let me carry her," Tobias says. "No. You're a better shot than I am. Take my gun. I'll carry her.
Veronica Roth