43
" You made Vas feel pain,” I said, breathless. I touched his face, ran a fingertip down his nose, over his upper lip.
He wasn’t as bruised as he had been the last time I saw him, cowering on the floor at my touch.
“I did,” he replied.
“Eijeh was in the amphitheater, he was right there. You could have grabbed him. Why didn’t you--”
His mouth--still under my fingers--twitched into a smile. “Because I came for you, you idiot.”
I laughed and fell against him, not strong enough to stand anymore. "
― Veronica Roth , Carve the Mark (Carve the Mark, #1)
56
" The current had not given me a curse. And I had become strong under its teaching. But there was no denying another thing Dr. Fadlan had said--that on some level, I felt like I, and everyone else, deserved pain. One thing I knew, deep in my bones, was that Akos Kereseth did not deserve it. Holding on to that thought, I reached for him, and touched my hand to his chest, feeling fabric.
I opened my eyes. The shadows were still traveling over my body, since I wasn’t touching his skin, but my entire left arm, from shoulder to the fingertips that touched him, was bare. Even if he had been able to feel my currentgift, I still would not have been hurting him.
Akos’s eyes, usually so wary, were wide with wonder.
“When I kill people with a touch, it’s because I decide to give them all the pain and keep none of it for myself. It’s because I get so tired of bearing it that all I want to do is set it down for a while,” I said. “But during the interrogation, it occurred to me that maybe I was strong enough to bear it all myself. That maybe no one else but me could. And I never would have thought of that without you.”
I blinked tears from my eyes.
“You saw me as someone better than I was,” I said. “You told me that I could choose to be different than I had been, that my condition was not permanent. And I began to believe you. Taking in all the pain nearly killed me, but when I woke up again, the gift was different. It doesn’t hurt as much. Sometimes I can control it.”
I took my hand away.
“I don’t know what you want to call it, what we are to each other now,” I said. “But I wanted you to know that your friendship has...quite literally altered me. "
― Veronica Roth , Carve the Mark (Carve the Mark, #1)
58
" And then I was in the prison, arm outstretched, fingers on Akos’s cheek, Vas’s hand strong around my wrist, holding me fast. Akos’s teeth were gritted. And the shadows that were usually confined beneath my skin were all around us, like smoke. So dark I couldn’t see Ryzek or Eijeh or the prison with its glass walls.
Akos’s eyes--full of tears, full of pain--found mine. Pushing the shadow toward him would have been easy. I had done it many times before, each time a mark on my left arm. All I had to do was let the connection form, let the pain pass between us like a breath, like a kiss. Let all of it flow out of me, bringing relief for us both, in death.
But he did not deserve it.
This time, I broke the connection, like slamming a door between us. I pulled the pain back, into myself, willing my body to grow darker and darker, like a bottle of ink. I shuddered with the force of that power, that agony.
I didn’t scream. I wasn’t afraid. I knew I was strong enough to survive it all. "
― Veronica Roth , Carve the Mark (Carve the Mark, #1)
59
" Akos had appeared in my doorway, his short brown hair sticking out in all directions, leaning into the wood.
“What,” he said, eyes wide, “is that sound?”
In spite of the current’s pain shooting through me, I laughed. I had never seen him this disheveled before. His drawstring pants were twisted halfway around, and his cheek bore the red imprint of creased sheets.
“It’s just the start of the Sojourn Festival,” I said. “Relax. Untwist your pants.”
His cheeks turned faintly pink, and he righted the waistband of his pants.
“Well, how was I supposed to know that?” he replied irritably. “Next time, when something that sounds remarkably like war drums is going to wake me at dawn, could you maybe warn me?”
“You’re determined to deprive me of fun.”
“That’s because apparently, your version of ‘fun’ is making me believe I’m in mortal peril. "
― Veronica Roth , Carve the Mark (Carve the Mark, #1)
