So I read the One and I decided that there were so many things I wanted to see between Maxon and America after the book so I should write a bunch of one-shots. these are not related at all to my other selection fanfics (As the One and Taking the One) but there may be some similarities later on with their childrens' names and whatnot. These do have an order but i'll skip ahead a bit from time to time. first though, let's get through the first few weeks after their engagement. so here's the first one! it picks up the day after their engagement!

All rights go to Kiera Cass. we're not worthy.

"As the devil spoke we spilled out on the floor. And the pieces broke and the people wanted more." - Agnes Obel

The morning after my engagement, I woke up in Maxon's bed surprised to find my fiancé missing. Fiancé. I couldn't stop musing over the word in my head and I knew Maxon felt the same way with the way he mumbled it in turn with my name in his sleep the night before. Rolling over to my stomach, I took a pillow and tugged it over my head, trying to block out the sound of men working out in the hallway. Maxon and I had both only been able to sleep a few hours due to constant interruptions from advisers, doctors and guards updating us – but mainly him – on death counts and damages.

It seemed that just hours into our engagement people were already interrupting them like he had warned me.

I had no idea how, but Maxon must have known I was awake because I heard him say from his bathroom door, "I've been thinking…maybe for the time being, while everything gets cleaned up here and your suite gets straightened out, you could live in the house I gave you?"

I huffed and threw the pillow away from me, still not looking at him. "Trying to get rid of me already?"

The bed dipped as he sat down next to me and his hand started stroking along my spine. "I just want you to be comfortable."

"Then I am perfectly content with staying here. In fact, I can't imagine being any more comfortable than I am here," I said, finally turning over to look at him. I smiled at his appearance. He had yet to shave and do his hair but then again, he had a lot more important issues to worry about than his hair.

He sighed and shook his head at me. "We have a long day ahead of us," he warned me. "I'm sorry I can't let you sleep later but now that you are the One, responsibilities trump sleep."

"It's fine. What're we doing today?" I asked, propping herself up on her elbows.

"We have to finish with the death toll," he said quietly and I could hear the deep sadness in his voice. Then I remembered that two of the people in that death toll were his parents. I couldn't pretend to understand his emotions concerning his father's death and I knew it would be different if it was just his father but it was his mother too. He loved her dearly and she was so kind. I hoped to be half the queen Amberly was.

I looked down, knowing that there would most likely be people I knew in that count as well. "Okay," I said slowly. I reached for his hand and held it, marveling in the way my ring glittered in the morning light. "I'll be right next to you."

"Actually, etiquette says that you should walk five paces behind me at all times but I'm working to get Silvia to change that." He smiled teasingly, reaching his hand that wasn't in a sling out to stroke my cheek. My face naturally melted into his palm. "I want everyone in Illéa to know that we are equals."

I shook my head and looked away. "Maxon, you do realize I know nothing about being a princess? How am I supposed to be queen?"

"Silvia will help you. She has been working with my mother for years…" his voice trailed off. "Had been working with my mother for years," he quickly fixed. He shook his head a couple times. "Anyway, Lucy and Mary are in your suite next door to help you dress."

I frowned at only hearing two of my maids' names. Then I realized what it most likely meant. A few tears leaked out of my eyes as I nodded and patted Maxon's hand that was still on my face. Maxon moved so I could climb out of bed and go into my room. I felt his eyes watching me the whole time.

Lucy and Mary had drawn a bath in the bathroom and I could see they both had puffy eyes. The sound of the water echoing off of the still-bare walls covered the sound of my entrance. I knew I probably looked horrible; I never did my hair the day before and I spent the day in my tattered dress. When I finally had time to go to bed, Maxon just leant me one of his cotton shirts and a pair of cotton pants he had tucked away in the back of his closet from a few years prior. I smiled at the thought that they were something from before we had met; they belonged to a different Maxon. Even so, I still had to roll them up several times to avoid tripping over the hems.

When my bare feet hit the cool marble floor, I cleared my throat, drawing my maids' attention to me. They turned and immediately sank into deep curtsies, bowing their heads. Lucy looked up first and her face immediately crumbled. I sighed. "Get up," I told them sadly and then ran forward to hug them both. We all cried together and without having to ask, I knew that Anne would never be helping me again. I could only imagine how many more of their friends had been killed. I only knew a handful of the help but my maids must have known dozens more.

"She always knew you would win," Lucy cried into my shoulder.

Mary nodded in agreement. "And she would be honored to be here now. Just like we are."

I smiled and nodded, wishing there was a way to lift the mood. Then it came to me. "Do you want to see the ring?" I asked them quietly, smiling mischievously.

They both squealed and smiled, grief momentarily forgotten. I held my left hand out for them to see. I did not know how he had done it because he refused to tell me but somehow Maxon knew what size I needed for the ring.

"It's beautiful my lady…I mean Your Majesty!" Lucy said, pressing a hand over her mouth and giggling more.

Mary nodded and she seemed to only be able to stare at it. "I caught him at the jewelers' the day after Christmas; he was picking out the jewels. I think he saw me looking because he told me to keep my mouth shut. Of course, I did tell Lucy and Anne right away." She smiled deviously and looked at Lucy who blushed.

"No wonder you ladies were so sure I was going to win!" I laughed. We all then laughed together and then settled into a somber silence. I sighed and looked between the two of them and I suddenly found myself missing Anne more than I ever thought I would.

Lucy was surprisingly the first one to speak up. "Well, we must get you dressed and back to your fiancé Princess!" Lucy insisted.

I smiled at the sound of the word again and agreed. They finished drawing my bath which did wonders to soothe my sore body. Then Mary got to work on my hair, brushing out some of the knots that had formed in the chaos from the day before and sleeping in it. Lucy put some light makeup on and then retrieved a simple day dress. "This is the last dress Anne designed," she told me quietly, staring at the dress as if it was invaluable. Come to think of it, it was invaluable now.

I held the dress in front of me, admiring the beautiful lavender silk lace that complimented my ring perfectly. With a smile, I realized she did that on purpose. "Did she design this for my engagement?" I asked the girls knowingly.

Lucy nodded, beaming. "Yes, Princess. When we told her about the ring, she immediately got to work on it."

"Well then let's get it on!" I encouraged, holding it close to me.

Ten minutes later, I was walking back into Maxon's room and saw that he was expecting me. Even with his arm in a sling and slightly unkempt hair, he looked regal. I never doubted that he would always be the main presence in any room we were in. I also never doubted that he would argue with me on that until the very end of the earth.

He smiled when he saw my dress and I could see the recognition in his eyes that it matched my ring, from the tiny green thread twisting throughout the lavender lace and the exposed golden zipper on the back. With his free hand, he pulled something off of his bed behind him. "I think I have the finishing touch for that outfit," he said as he passed me the small box.

"Maxon, seriously, the presents need to stop. I told you that I can't be spoiled."

"And I told you that I will give you things you didn't even know you wanted. That being said, I know this won't replace the original one but take it was a tribute to your past while also being a gift from me, representing your future," he explained.

I smiled curiously, having no idea what could be in the jewelry box. All I knew was that by the shape of it, it had to be a necklace or bracelet. Maxon held it in his palm as I opened it, revealing a golden chain holding a golden songbird. "Maxon…" I began, not knowing what else to say. He was right; this was something I didn't even know I wanted but looking at it, I realized just how much I missed my original songbird necklace from my father.

"Do you like it?" he asked hesitantly. I could see why he was apprehensive to give it to me. He probably didn't want to reopen any healing wounds and this could no doubt do that.

I nodded, willing myself to not cry. I had cried too many times in the last forty-eight hours. "Can you put it on?" I asked him.

He smiled. "Gladly," he agreed, taking the necklace and holding it in his hand. Then he sighed. "Sorry, I don't know if I can with this…" He slightly raised that hand that was in his sling.

"Right, I'll help." I brushed my hair to the side and held one end of the chain, pulling the clasp open with my thumb nail. He took the other end and easily inserted it into the clasp. I let my hair fall back down my back. "I'm not overdressed, am I?" I asked, suddenly worried that my being done up may offend some of the people who had lost everything during the attack.

"No, you're fine." Maxon squeezed my hand and sighed again. "You ready?"

I nodded and walked toward the door. His hand was on the small of my back as I pulled the door open and passed through, watching him walk out before turning and facing the hallway again. The mess was mostly clean but now the hallway looked empty with the broken furniture and torn paintings no longer adorning the walls. I knew though that with this being the royal family's hallway, it would be the maids' top priority to clean. With a heavy heart, I realized that now the royal family consisted of Maxon and me.

"Your Majesty," an adviser I thought was Stavros approached us and bowed to Maxon. "Oh, forgive me Princess; everything happened so suddenly I am not quite yet to addressing you as so."

I waved him off but I could see Maxon looked slightly offended by the lack of formality. "What is it?" I asked before he could say anything.

Stavros cleared his throat and I could tell he was uncomfortable. "We would like your presence for the hanging of your parents' portrait."

Maxon nodded. "Of course. Just give us a few moments and we'll be down by the throne room," he told Stavros. His adviser walked away, leaving us, and he turned to me. "You don't have to come with me for this."

"Yes, I do," I told him, easily refusing. "Maxon, when I was at home in Carolina, all I wanted was to have you with me. Maybe I wasn't consciously aware of it but the first thing I thought when I stepped in this palace was, Where's Maxon? I want him to be here."

"Okay then," he sighed. "Hold on to me though?"

I smiled and tucked my hand into his free elbow. "Always," I promised and we both knew that the promise went so much deeper than the next several minutes.

We made our way down to the throne room slowly, taking a very strange route. I assumed it was Maxon trying to keep me away from most of the destruction but there was very little the rebels didn't touch on the first two floors of the palace. The fourth floor was untouched and the third had spots here and there but the worst damage was done on the first floor and the middle of the second. I had a feeling that no matter how hard the maids and guards worked though, the palace would never be the same.

I was surprised by Maxon's confidence as he walked straight through the door of the throne room but I could feel the tension in his arm. I rubbed my other hand over his forearm, hoping to ease some of the tension. There were a couple reporters in the corner and I suddenly realized that this was the first time we were being documented together as an engaged couple, as the future king and queen of Illéa.

I had never been in the throne room before but I saw that it was one of the most incredible rooms of the palace. The walls were blanketed in royal blue and gold paint that glittered in the light spilling through the two tall windows at the end of the room beside two golden thrones. The seats were red velvet and one of them was larger than the other. I remembered reading somewhere during my studies with Silvia that the thrones were always switched out based on the current royal family, meaning that the large throne was Maxon's and the smaller one was mine. After getting a closer look, I saw that there was indeed a crown on one and a tiara on the other. I assumed that Maxon's was still a prince throne because he hadn't yet had his coronation.

Billowing red curtains hung down around the two thrones with emblazoned gold accents. Golden sculptures of lions were crawling down the marble steps that lead up to the platform of the thrones. The room had nine portraits hanging on the walls, the tenth a portrait I could not see due to a thick black cloth hanging over the canvas. I recognized some names such as Gregory Illéa, Katherine, Damon and Spencer Illéa and Porter Schreave but some were a mystery such as Emil de Monpezat and Elizabeth Feller.

Despite not knowing the names of every person represented in this room like I assumed my fiancé did, I knew that the history in this room was rich but full of missteps. Calculating fathers, ruined marriages, unhappy marriages, lies, deceit…death. I wondered how someone so good as Maxon came from this family. Then I remembered that not everyone in those paintings was a Schreave or Illéa by blood.

Maxon and I stood in front of the canvas and he nodded his head once to the guards standing on either side, holding a black sash connected to the curtain. They pulled it simultaneously, the curtain falling to the floor with a dull swoosh. There on the canvas was a beautiful portrait of Queen Amberley and King Clarkson, obviously painted several years ago because they both looked young and happy. He lacked the cold, calculating look in his eyes and she was beaming with his arm tight around her. The name plate hanging underneath the portrait read King Clarkson Schreave and Queen Amberley Station, 2098-2120.

I cautiously looked over to Maxon and saw his Adam's apple bobbing as he struggled to keep it together. He sighed and smiled weakly to the advisers and guards standing before him. The photographers were clicking away, not wanting to miss a single moment of this. "Thank you, all, for coming here today. There will be a proper service planned in the coming days with the date to come this Friday on the Report. If there are any questions from any reporters, I will select five to ten and answer them myself, live, during the same airing. Good day," he greeted and then looked to me. I could see in his eyes that he needed to get out of the room before he lost it so I slowly nodded and pulled him away from the collision of his parents' haunting past and our uncertain future.

In the hallway, Maxon pulled away from me and squeezed the bridge of his nose with his hand. "I need a moment," he said quietly.

"I'm here," I told him.

He held up a hand, his back still turned. "I know and I'm telling you that I need a moment alone."

I nodded, scared to leave him. I felt the familiar sting of his rejection and reminded myself that I had done this to him for more times than he had to me. I also reminded myself that he had spent most of his life comforting himself. It made sense for him to seek solace within himself. "Of course. I'll be upstairs if you need anything." I didn't know whether or not to bow or curtsy so I just walked away, figuring he wouldn't really notice.

At the end of the hallway I turned and saw that he was still standing there in the same position. It ached for me to not be able to reach out to him, to touch him, to comfort him myself. I wanted to be his source of comfort but I supposed that for all of the walls we had knocked down between us, his independence was not one of them. It would be a big step for him to depend upon me and I knew that it all came from the fear of losing me which was a product of my own actions and keeping him away for such a long time.

Silvia met me on the second floor. I was surprised to see her; I had not yet been told whether or not she had made it through the attack. "Princess," she curtsied and I couldn't help but smile at her. She smiled to me and looked around the hallway. "Where is your fiancé?"

"He had personal matters to attend to," I said, my voice wavering slightly. I couldn't shake the feeling of being put out by him pushing me away. "I can handle whatever you need."

She nodded. "I was hoping we could actually discuss the ceremony for his parents. As princess, you will be the one to plan it."

"Oh, of course." Somehow the concept of being Maxon's wife and Queen of Illéa hadn't quite clicked yet. I knew I was going to be queen but the idea of the work involved had not really settled in yet. Call this my rude awakening. "Um, do we have a date set yet?" I asked Silvia.

"No, ma'am, you're supposed to decide the date."

I nodded and started to continue my way upstairs until I realized I didn't know where to really go. I didn't even know where Queen Amberley's office was. Am I supposed to get that office? Or will I be getting another office? Or will I work from my suite? Questions swirled in my head as I decided to just go to Maxon's bedroom which was the only room I knew I was really welcome in at the time. "Well, how about on Saturday?"

"December thirtieth?" Silvia asked, scribbling the date down on her clipboard.

"Yes, Saturday at noon," I told her decisively. It struck me suddenly that my first act as princess was planning a funeral. That just made me miss Maxon even more.

Silvia blinked at me. "Guests?"

That stumped me. I hadn't the first clue as to who to invite to this. There had to be some kind of master list somewhere that I could just give to Silvia. "I think this is something Maxon and I should sit down and decide."

"Do you think you can do that this evening?"

I doubted it but I still said, "Yes, I'll have answers for you tomorrow morning."

Silvia scribbled more down on her clipboard and flipped to the next couple pages clipped there. "Okay, next order of business…" and thus my day really began. In the morning, Silvia put me through a whirlwind course of etiquette that I obviously had not learned yet. I had no idea that there was still so much I was missing.

I ate lunch – which consisted of a pastry and some fruit - on my way to a meeting with the cooking staff where I had to set the menu for every course Maxon and I would be having together for the next two weeks so the kitchens knew what ingredients to have. I wanted to say that I wanted to just eat strawberry tarts for that time but I couldn't survive on them alone and for a person his size, neither could Maxon. I had no idea this was a job for the queen. Then Silvia whisked me off to a meeting with the head maids where I had to set special assignments for which rooms would be in use over the course of the next week and when. I barely knew all of the rooms in the palace; how did I know which ones we would be using? Silvia did a lot of guiding for that. Next was a meeting with the grounds keepers and I wasn't much of a help with that either.

Feeling extremely defeated and discouraged, I finally was able to go up to Maxon's room around dinner time. I was surprised to find it quiet and vacant with no sign of disturbance since this morning. For once I understood how Maxon felt with his father controlling everything. I had done nothing but listen to Silvia do my job all day and I felt utterly useless because of it. I just wanted to talk to him because I knew he would make me feel better.

I wandered over to his bookshelf full of cameras and picked one up. I had only used a camera a handful of times but I knew that if I was going to marry Maxon I'd have to learn how they work. I flicked it on and the screen immediately lit up with a digital display of a picture of me with Celeste, lying side-by-side on one of the beautiful rugs in the Women's Room. I was laughing about a forgotten joke and she was looking at me. I didn't realize it until now but Celeste was not laughing along with me. She was watching me with a hopeful smile and looked more pensive than relaxed.

I realized then that I truly missed her as much as I missed Queen Amberley and my father. Our friendship was brief but it was vital. I knew then that a bond was forged between us that no one else would ever understand. I wished desperately for her presence now. With a smile, I knew that if she were in my position she would scour the palace in order to find Maxon and would be so mad at me if she knew I was waiting around for him in his bedroom fully clothed. I could only imagine her telling me that if I was waiting for him, I may as well do it unclothed. I actually laughed out loud at that.

Setting the camera back in its place, I walked outside and down the hallway. I was at the top of the steps when I realized that someone was following me. I peeked over my shoulder and saw a guard following behind me. "Yes?" I asked him.

"Special orders from King Maxon that I am supposed to keep an eye on you if you are by yourself," he answered simply, looking straight ahead and not directly at me.

I rolled my eyes. Of course he'd do that. "Do you by chance know where he is?"

"I believe he said something about going to the roof to think ma'am."

"Thank you. I'll be meeting up with him so you really don't have to follow me," I politely dismissed him and he didn't seem to argue with me. I thought that was weird until I realized that I was supposedly Maxon's equal so I could squash his orders with a bat of an eye.

I couldn't remember exactly how we got to the roof but after twenty minutes of searching, I finally found the room with the passage we took. The sun had long since set with the days being shortened this time of year. I quietly opened the door and saw that there was just one light illuminating this part of the roof. The rest was the sparkle of the city.

"Maxon?" I asked quietly, my voice cutting through the quiet winter air. It was a lot colder than I expected it to be. Goose bumps rose on my arms. "Maxon, are you out here?" I heard a clatter around the corner and stepped out, feeling exposed on the wide open roof top. I saw Maxon swaying and walking around the roof with a glass bottle in his hand. My heart leaped into my throat. "What're you doing?" I demanded.

He turned and swayed, taking me in. "Oh, lookie, you're here."

I shook my head. This was not my Maxon. Angry Maxon was back. "Maxon, please, come with me. Get some sleep," I urged. I wondered briefly if he had ever been really drunk before. He seemed a little tipsy after the ball at Halloween but he wasn't drunk. I held out my hand. "C'mon."

"I'm not a dog; I can't be beckoned," he snapped, taking another long drink from the bottle. He pulled it away from his mouth and coughed in disgust. "Empty," he mumbled. He suddenly raised his arm and through it to the ground, the glass shattering and scattering everywhere.

"I can get you more. Just come with me." There were a thousand worries flying through my head. He had lost his sling somewhere so he must have ripped open his wound because through his unbuttoned shirt I could see blood staining the bandage on his chest. We were also a little too close to the edge of the roof for comfort.

He laughed darkly. "I…am the king of Illéa! You can't tell me what to do!" he shouted, waving his arms to keep his balance.

I knew the only way to get Maxon to do what I wanted was to push back against him. "Well you're not being much of a king now. You had duties today but you just abandoned them. I really needed your help but no, you're too drunk to care!"

"Yeah, I have duties. Because my parents are dead. Why is everyone dancing around that? It's like everyone thinks that I can't handle it all but I know more than everyone else that my parents are dead."

"Your mom wouldn't have wanted this," I told him. He was making absolutely no sense.

He rolled his eyes. "Who cares what Mommy wants? She never really mattered. We both know that my father was always the one in charge!"

I heard the door open behind me but didn't dare break eye contact with Maxon. I finally had his attention. "You're not like him Maxon. You are so much more than him. You are good, you are kind, you care about the people. You don't see them as a bunch of toy soldiers. You see them as actual people."

"Because of you!" he burst out. "Don't you see? It's because of you that I'm nice, that I care…I'm weak because of you."

"No, you're not. You're strong. You took all of those lashings for me. You defied your father. You spoke up and started making changes."

He shook his head and pointed a shaking finger at me. "America Singer, you are no good for me and I am no good for you."

"You're wrong!" I yelled back at him, not able to contain it anymore. "Yes, we fight and yes, we don't always agree but we love each other. At the end of the day, that's all that matters. I'm America Singer and Maxon Schreave, a boy and girl who love each other and want to spend their lives together. Being nice isn't a weakness; it's a strength. It's harder to be nice to people because not everyone always deserves it. It's easier to turn your back on everything. That's what your father did. He's the weak one, not you."

His face grew somber at that and he kicked a rock with the front of his shoe. I noticed then that one of his shoes was missing. "I'm tired," he sighed. He bowed his head and started to rock forward. I ran forward and caught him just in time. He collapsed over me, his big arms hanging around my shoulders like noodles. "Don't leave me Ames," he pleaded in my ear and I could feel tears on my neck.

"I won't," I promised. "I told you I wouldn't. I'm here. I'm right here." I stroked the back of his neck and played with the hair there. He started to list to the side and I was scared I couldn't hold on to him. He was so much bigger than me.

Suddenly Carter was there, putting an arm around Maxon's shoulders and catching him for me. "C'mon Your Majesty, let's get you to bed," he mumbled, looking at me apologetically. I put an arm around Maxon's waist and we slowly made our way to the door with Carter supporting most of Maxon's weight.

Marlee was at the door, holding it open for us and she went ahead to open all of the doors. As we made our way downstairs to his bedroom Marlee explained, "We were coming up to ask if you guys wanted dinner and a guard mentioned that you went looking for him up on the roof."

"Thanks for coming," I told her. I could feel blood starting to soak through the sleeve of my dress from where Maxon's chest was pressed into my shoulder. "Can you send for Dr. Ashlar?"

She nodded and ran off in the other direction. When we finally made it to Maxon's room, Carter dumped him on his bed and I got to work with getting his shirts off. "Thank you for your help," I told Carter quietly.

"Of course, America," he said quietly, standing behind me. "Maxon had helped Marlee and I more than we deserve after what we did. Now tell me, is there anything I can do?"

"Go down to the kitchens, get him something to eat. Something greasy or with bread, maybe?" I suggested. Then it came to me. "A burger?"

He nodded. "Of course. Delilah made some up this afternoon with some extra meat." He walked out and the guards posted outside didn't seem to question his presence. They must have known he was around with as much interaction there was between the palace help and the guards.

I propped Maxon up against his pillows with some difficulty. "Maxon, I need your help here," I grumbled, trying to pull his shirt off. He begrudgingly slid off one of his sleeves and hissed in pain when he went to remove the other. "Here, I'll cut it off for you," I told him. I went into his bathroom and stopped, this having been my first time in his bathroom I had no idea where anything was.

I searched through the drawers and found a pair of tailoring scissors that would have to do. Starting at the cuff of his sleeves, I sliced it up the middle, watching where it was snuck around his biceps and shoulders. I picked the cufflinks off of his sleeves and set them on the bedside table.

By then Marlee was running back in with Dr. Ashlar on her heels. "Will he need any anesthesia?" he asked, sitting next to me.

I shook my head. "He's been drinking; he doesn't need any more drugs in him."

Dr. Ashlar got to work, peeling the soiled bandage off Maxon's chest, revealing the spot where he had been shot two days before. My stomach turned at the sight of it because I wasn't expecting the wound to be so gruesome. Maxon hissed again when Dr. Ashlar started poking around the wound. I crawled over to the other side of Maxon and held his free hand, circling my other arm around his shoulders and holding his head against my shoulder. "You're okay," I promised, kissing his head.

Carter came back, winded but holding a brown paper bag that contained what I assumed was the burger. "My father always said a burger is the best cure for a hangover. How'd you know?" he asked, setting the bag on the bedside table next to Maxon's cufflinks.

I shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I heard it somewhere." Maxon then groaned and turned his face into my chest. "Shh, you're okay." I stroked his hair, putting my face in it.

"No, none of this is okay," he refused, his voice muffled. "I don't deserve you."

"Just stop talking," I told him quietly.

Dr. Ashlar leaned back from Maxon and nodded to me. "That's the best I can do. He'll have to wear his sling for an extra few days now but he didn't tear any of the muscle in the area like I was worried he had so he'll be okay. He has so much muscle there that the bullet never really penetrated any of his organs so he should heal rather quickly."

I nodded and glanced down at Maxon who still had his face pressed into my dress. "Thank you Doctor," I said genuinely. Dr. Ashlar then left us and it was just me and Marlee. I didn't notice Carter's departure.

"I never got to congratulate you," Marlee said quietly, sitting down next to me.

With a smile, I looked down at Maxon again. He looked like he was about to fall asleep. "I never even knew if you had made it."

"Carter was a guard, remember? When he saw what was happening, he locked me and Paige in our room and went off to fight. I was so scared. I can only imagine how you were feeling."

"I tried to break out of the safe room."

Marlee laughed out loud. "Of course you did." She rolled her eyes and sighed. "There are still some of the Selected around. I think Celeste is the only one of them who didn't make it."

"Kriss?" I asked tentatively.

"She left early this morning. Like, early this morning. I guess she didn't want to bump into you two."

I shook my head. "I didn't want her to get hurt."

"Maxon can only marry one person America. She knew going into the Selection that she had a one-in-thirty-five chance of not getting hurt," Marlee reminded me. "Besides, I have a feeling that if Maxon had proposed to her, she would've said no; she didn't want to be a bridesmaid, figuratively speaking. She's a sweet girl though. I'm sure it'll take no time for her to find a replacement."

Maxon snored softly into my shoulder. "Do you mind?" I asked, looking between her and the door.

She smiled and patted Maxon's leg. "Not at all. Everything will work out America," she assured me, standing up and leaving.

I sighed and gently removed Maxon from my shoulder and then took off his shoes and socks for him. There was no way I'd be able to get his pants off without any help so I just removed his belt, figuring that would make him comfortable enough.

I fell asleep next to him and woke up the next morning in the empty bed. The bathroom door was cracked open and I heard someone getting sick inside. I quietly went to the door and knocked. "Maxon? Maxon, can I come in?"

"No!" he coughed out. "Stay away!"

I rolled my eyes at his stubbornness. "Maxon, I'm coming in," I warned, poking my head in. He was kneeling on the floor with his face close to the toilet, emptying the contents of his stomach. He retched again as I came in and I walked toward him, rubbing his back as he got sick.

He finally conceded in letting me help him because he eventually sat back and asked, "Can I have a glass of water?"

I went to the sink and poured him a glass, handing it to him. "Small sips," I told him.

He obliged and then sat back against the wall. "Words can't describe how sorry I am."

"Then don't worry about explaining it to me." I patted one of his knees and sat cross-legged in front of him. "Just feel better, okay?"

He nodded and leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

sorry I had to end it awkwardly because it was getting to be just too long! they'll all be pretty long but not always like this. anyway, I hope you guys liked it!

P.S. I'll probably be updating Taking the One sometime in the next 24 hours :)