What's Worse: To Be Idle While Someone

Maybe I Was Afraid To Trust Him With Something So Personal As My Devotion.

How Is It I Know This Little About The Boy Who Says He Loves Me -- The Boy Whose Real Name Is Powerful Enough To Keep Us Alive In A Train Car Full Of Enemies?

I Laugh Shakily. ‘you’re A Little Scary, Four.’ ‘do Me A Favor,’ He Says, ‘and Don’t Call Me That.’ ‘what Should I Call You, Then?’ ‘nothing.’ He Takes His Hand From My Face. ‘yet.

He Gives Me A Conflicted Look And Touches His Lips To My Forehead, Right Between My Eyebrows. I Close My Eyes. I Don't Understand This, Whatever It Is. But I Don't Want To Ruin It, So I Say Nothing. He Doesn't Move; He Just Stays There With His Mouth Pressed To My Skin, And I Stay There With My Hands On His Waist, For A Long Time.

I Close My Eyes. I Don't Expect Four To Reassure Me, And He Makes No Effort To, But I Feel Better Standing Here Than I Did Out There Among The People Who Are My Friends, My Faction.