Free Rein

|Chapter Six|

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-Florence, Italy-
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As Tris sat on the bench of the train to Florence in the dark, she got her camera out of her drawstring bag to see the pictures Four had taken. The first one she recognized she didn't take was the one of her smiling at the Sforza Castle. She was in front of one of the frescoes. The next one was of her in the bell tower holding onto the railing and looking down. Next was in the same setting, except, she'd put her sunglasses up and put her hair behind her ear. She was looking at the camera and shyly smiling. Her elbows were leaning on the rail, and her butt was sticking out. Not on purpose, but because she was leaning onto the rail. She remembered him holding up the camera to take this one. The next was of her walking, but it wasn't focused on her butt, and she was thankful for that. The next one she remembered. It was her walking backwards, smiling, telling him to catch up. At the time she had a little hop in her step, and she seemed a little more happy. Next: her spinning on the bull, grinning. And after that, in the next picture, was her sticking her tongue out at him childishly as they waited in line for "The Last Supper." That was the last one she caught him taking. Then next time he took one, she could see her body, and the rest around her was black. She couldn't believe he'd taken this.

She looked over at him sleeping on the padded bench, and glared.

Before she'd started looking at the pictures, she was sleeping. She slept as soon as they got on the train, but she just woke up about fifteen minutes, and she'd known she wouldn't be going back to sleep until they arrived at Florence. So she had grabbed the camera and started looking at the pictures. But while she was sleeping, he must've taken a picture of her. She'd been sleeping on her side, and her hands gathered at her chest. Her hair had been swept over her shoulders, and she'd had a peaceful look on her face.

She evilly grinned a cheshire grin and squatted down with the camera in hand. She snapped the picture, grinning, and scrambled back before he could wake. He shuffled, then opened his eyes. Tris was already back on her bench facing him.

She sat, looking at him, and said, "Can't sleep?"

He shook his head. "No."

Tris looked out the window from her bench, then got up to get a better view.

"You know something I noticed about you?"

"What's that?" she asked quietly, still looking at the city view from the train.

"You laugh a lot. Even when something isn't all that funny, you laugh. And you have a nice laugh. I've concluded that you like laughing."

"Ride bene chi ride ultimo."

"That means...?"

"'He who laughs last, laughs longest.'"

"Something else I've noticed: you love to adore a city's beauty. Not many people take a moment to just stare anymore. They just get on their winklepickers and start walking again," he chuckled.

Tris smiled and looked over him with a tilted head. "What's your last name?"

"What? Why?"

She shrugged. "I feel like I hardly know you at all."

"Eaton. What about you?"