𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 a girl who has only ever known a life of peace finds herself at the heart of a revolution, thrusting her into a world of death and destruction. when all that had once made sense suddenly falls apart before her very eyes, she is force...
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"HOLD ON, SO YOU WERE THEIR INSTRUCTOR?" Flint asks Four, shovelling a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth as he awaits a response.
His nose crinkles ever so slightly as he chews, prompting a knowing-smile to quirk at my lips; Flint used to be a very picky eater growing up, practically despising anything and everything that wasn't sugary sweet. Evidently, he still hasn't grown out of that taste palette, but he at least does a better job of hiding it now. It's nice to notice these things about my brother again.
After the Amity officially granted us asylum in their compound, we all made our way to the dining hall for a late breakfast. Much of the faction had a delayed start to the day in order to accommodate today's deliberation — practically all except those who were working in the fields, which has explained away my father's current absence. I was glad to see my mother for a few brief moments after the decision was made, though today she is working in the kitchens so we didn't get to have much of a catch up before she was gone again.
With the rule in place that we aren't allowed to discuss the current conflict within our city, I find the idea of facing my parents much less daunting now.
"Yes," Four says bluntly, in between his own mouthful of oatmeal.
Flint cranes his neck to blatantly stare at Four, who is sitting right next to him.
The focused attention on him makes Four pause his actions, his gaze temporarily meeting mine from across the table before he fixates onto his meal again, stirring the beige goop with a stiff hand.
I can tell that he's trying very hard to not tell Flint off like he would've if we were still in Dauntless, but the conditions of our stay in Amity were clear: we cannot start any fights.
It almost makes me laugh, to see him struggle in the same way I had when I was growing up here, so I quickly shove my own spoon into my mouth to prevent any words — or inappropriate laughter — from getting me in trouble.
Maybe this is one area where Four could actually learn something from me. Who's the instructor now?
"You can't be any older than I am, how is that possible?" Flint questions, his latest spoon full of oatmeal hovering in front of his lips, seemingly forgotten in the face of his curiosity.
Four lets out a long sigh, but surprisingly turns his body to better face Flint, looking him in the eyes as he answers. "Age doesn't matter in Dauntless like it does in other factions," he explains, reminding me of my first day in Dauntless when I wondered something similar.
