A/N: ok, so this is my first time ever writing anything for Divergent, so please bear with me. I am really excited for this. I'm thinking about doing a full length story, but I wanna get my others rolling first. As I'm sure you'll realize, this is all in Tobias's POV. Nervous about that too since I've never written as a guy before. I hope you enjoy it. :)

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Veronica Roth. The characters,the factions. Not me. :)

I remember how often I used to stare at her. I remember the sternness, the curiosity, the fire that used to protrude from her gray eyes. Beautiful. I remember the first time I ever talked to her — if you could even call it that. I'd bumped into her, clumsily knocking over her things. As a good Abnegation would, I helped her gather them, muttering my apologies. I remember the look she gave me after — as if she'd recognized me, but not quite. I remember how on fire I felt having those eyes on me. I remember stumbling over words, being completely nervous to be within touching distance of her. I remember wondering why she didn't just walk away, why she was even wasting her time looking, or even "speaking" to me.

I remember watching her in the halls at school, how every single morning she'd watch the Dauntless jump off the train. I remember the look of yearning that would adorn her face. I couldn't blame her — such a life away from monotonous actions, and dreary surroundings seemed like a safe haven. Away from abusive fathers who belittled you every chance they got. Away from lash after lash, physical or verbal. Away from being the one stain on a perfectly white shirt.

I remember slicing the knife into my skin, so, so close to choosing Dauntless — escaping my own personal hell. I remember looking up from the bowls to the crowd, looking at all of their expectant faces. I was Marcus Eaton's son — of course I would be a good and loyal Abnegation and stay. I especially remember seeing her, all dressed in gray, bright yellow hair pulled back in the Abnegation style, and gray eyes calculating my every move. I remember staring at her as I let my blood drip onto the stones.

I remember trying to justify my staying by telling myself it would've been cowardice to leave. I wouldn't have been brave enough to belong there. Just like I wasn't selfless enough to belong here.

I remember the relief of finally moving away from Marcus. I remember the small freedom I felt of having my own home. Even though it was undeniably the exact same as my previous one. This one was a new start, no bad memories here. A clean slate. I remember being offered a spot in the government, and turning it down for the sick fear of him. I remember being so completely angered that I still feared him. That he still somehow had an effect in my choices — in my life.

I remember hearing her name at her choosing ceremony, and how my whole body seemed to hum at the sound of it.

"Beatrice Prior."

I remember knowing for a fact that she was leaving Abnegation. She'd choose Dauntless, and finally be able to jump on and off the trains like she's wished she could every day. I remember regretting never talking to her — maybe, just maybe, she'd consider staying if I had — if we had . . .

I remember looking into those too curious, too calculating gray eyes as she slid the knife across her skin, placing her hand where her blood would drop onto stones. I remember wanting to chastise her. How could she? How could she give up a life of freedom, and laughter, and adrenaline? The life she'd always wanted. But the selfish part of me was relieved. Maybe, just maybe I'd finally get to talk to her.

I was selfish, and maybe she was too.

I remember seeing her at the donating center, looking like the one glimpse of light in my total darkness. I remember admiring her too yellow hair, slightly long nose, and gorgeous, mesmerizing eyes. I remember resolving with myself that that would be the day I'd make Abnegation worth it. I remember feeling like that fourteen year old boy who'd bumped into her in the hallway all over again. I remember the look she gave me when I finally approached her, as if she'd been expecting me.

"Tobias."

"Tris."

Nicknames were self indulgent. Selfish. I remember not caring at such an open act of rebellion against our faction.

I remember the first time we held hands — such a small touch to others, but huge for us. In Abnegation touch is very powerful. I remember the feeling of her thin, short fingers threading with my long, lean ones. Pure warmth. I remember wanting more.

I remember when I finally got the courage to kiss her. It was soft, short, and sweet. I remember how selfish those simple touches had felt. Touch was something frowned upon in Abnegation — very rarely seen. I remember kissing her harder because she was the most selfish thing about me. I could lie and pretend to be the perfect selfless Abnegation man, but when it was just us — we were selfish, we were brave.

I remember realizing that selflessness and bravery weren't all that different. That I wouldn't have been a coward if I had left. I remember holding her in my arms and finally — finally — being content with my decision to stay.

I remember the first time I said the three words that left me more vulnerable than I'd ever been in my entire life.

"I love you."

I remember how the fire that I loved so much ignited in her eyes. I remember her muttering the words back through soft, passionate, kisses.

I remember the look of absolute hatred when I showed her my back. It was scary, showing this much skin, being suscepted to not only her touch, but her opinions. I remember the feel of her hands gliding over the bumps and ridges of my scarred back. How nice it felt to be touched gently. I remember looking into those gray pools and expecting sympathy. None. She didn't look at me like I was broken, or as if I was some kicked puppy. I remember wondering why she thought of me as she did — strong.

I remember realizing that in a way I was. I put up with Marcus and his endless torture for years and I came out alright. I'd never be physically strong, for working out would be selfish. But in her eyes that didn't matter. So maybe — just maybe — I was strong.

I remember the day we got married. A small, simple ceremony. For once Abnegation's values on simplicity was favored. Tris and I didn't want anything big, or extravagant. Just us. I remember smirking at Marcus after saying the two words that would detach me from him.

"I do."

I wouldn't be referred to as something intolerable anymore.

"You're Marcus's son, right?"

No, instead I'd be known as something much more beautiful. Much more right. Much more honorable.

"Ah, you're Beatrice's husband, she's a lovely young woman."

I remember the feeling of warmth and fire and love looking into those gray eyes as we made our marriage, our love, us, concrete. I remember us laughing and helping each other through it because Abnegation didn't discuss such things. I remember how many times we messed up, until we finally got it right. We were never more selfish — or brave.

I remember looking at her swollen stomach and fearing the worst — that I would end up like Marcus. That if I got angry and — no. I would never end up like him. I would never put something so beautiful in such pain or harm. I couldn't. A person is never more innocent then in their adolescence.

I remember when Marcus found out, his eyes silently telling me that I'm just like him. Never. I remember telling Tris' parents over a small dinner. The slight glare Andrew gave me, and the small, excited smile from Natalie. It was one of the only times I'd ever seen her show an act of selfishness.

I remember when I heard one of the most beautiful sounds of life — my baby boy's first cries. I remember marveling in his lean form, his hooked nose, dark hair, and blue eyes. My blue eyes. His mother's full lips, high cheekbones, and an almost stern look coming from his eyes. I remember smiling thinking that Andrew was the perfect blend of his parents.

And it's days like this where Tris is playing with our child, laughing, smiling, loving, that I like to reminisce on how I got here. On how I became apart of this extraordinary life. Although we don't exactly fit into Abnegation, I have the sneaking suspicion that we might have been too selfless for Dauntless, as we are too selfish for Abnegation. We are Divergent. We are selfish. We are brave. And maybe a little selfless.

I'd like to think that things would have been almost exactly the same if I — we — had chosen Dauntless. That we would've fallen in love under black clouds instead of gray ones. But we didn't, and that's okay. I am hers, and she is mine — no choice would've ever changed that.

A/N: sooo watcha think? Like? Well, I hope you did. It was fun to write. :)