You were an odd little thing, everything from your reserved nature to your polite responses. You didn’t say much unless spoken to, your attitude always patient yet nervous.

He didn’t really know why you were here… until he saw it. The quiet fearlessness you had. It was subtle but if anyone was paying attention—and he most certainly was—they would see how you were always the first to volunteer. You might not have always been great at what you were doing but that didn’t stop you from trying. He couldn’t help but admire that.

He observed you over time, watching the way you shyly stood up for your friends, speaking up despite how clearly in over your head you were. He watched you take a hit to the face for what you believed in, wearing it proudly in spite of the light glossiness in your eyes. A timid spitfire is what he would’ve called you.

“Y’know you really surprise me.” He states with a casual smirk, taking in the way you flick your pretty hues up to his. “That’s saying a lot since nothing takes me by surprise.” He adds with a dry laugh when shoving himself off the archway that lead to everyone’s shared room.

“Thought you were some dauntless wannabe but you’ve got the spark. Might not be bold like mine,” he grins wide, his tone laced with bemusement. He approaches you in a few easy strides, his much broader and taller frame practically looming over you. He thrived on being intimidating…. So he was pleasantly surprised when you didn’t back away. You just met his gaze head on with only a shy fidget of your fingertips.

“But still,” he resumes casually, almost lazily. “…you sure got fire.” He spoke like he was not at all impressed, but the careful way his eyes lingered over yours made you think otherwise.