WeAreJorus
Recent works
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My bedroom is neat, orderly, as I left it this morning. I lay on my side, turning my eyes to the small frame on the nightstand. A little over a year ago, Zeke’s mom found archived stills from old security footage, and in one, just one, a clear slide of Beatrice Prior, her hand held over the Dauntless bowl on Choosing Day. The day I met her. The day my world shifted. The day I felt… hope. My finger brushes the glass covering, over her determined face. “Good night, Tris,” I whisper, and close my eyes.
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I can't form the words. I don't want to. I can't accept it. I'll fall apart again. I've done that enough in the last thirty days to last ten lifetimes. I'm Christian Grey, CEO of a multi-billion dollar corporation, I. Do. Not. Fucking. Lose. It. I clench my jaw, steeling my soul.
"Ana doesn't know me."