After-The Selection

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO KIERA CASS!

WITHOUT HER, THIS STORY WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN POSSIBLE!

I decide to describe everything now, as surreal. The fact that I'm now America Singer Shreave, completely and utterly surreal. That no other girls are left, and it's now just me, is surreal. The weight of how much I love Maxon Shreave surreal in every way possible. My dress is itchy, the high collar digging into my neck slightly. I tug on it with my free arm subtly, my other one linked through his. Maxon looks down and smiles at me as we walk, the flashing of cameras blinding. He leans down and kisses my cheek, and I feel the ferocious blush on my face.

"Okay!" Silvia practically floats toward us, her floor-length scarlet dress brushing against the tiled floor. Her hair is swept up on top of her head, and she looks beautiful. "Let's get some pictures of the Highness's around the palace." She claps her hands, and the rows of photographers rush forward like water when a dam breaks. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I went with flat shoes under the dress, to avoid tripping, and the fact I'm hopeless in heels.

Silvia is bouncing around in front of us as we move down the corridors, barking orders at different people holding huge cameras. A couple of photographers just plain follow us, hardly any space between us, clicking furiously, capturing every move we make. And that's why it startles me when I hear the voice so close to my ear, "How are you finding this situation?" I resist the urge to laugh, turning toward him.

Maxon smiles down at me, his crown slightly lopsided on his head. "Overwhelming," I reply, reaching up to right his crown. It ruffles his blonde hair, and he grins as my fingers linger on the sides of his face. I drop my hand and hook it back around his, and we continue to walk, until we reach the staircase. It's grand, two staircases curving into one another, meeting at a landing that overlooks the hall below.

"Here!" Silvia squeals like an excited child. I feel Maxon laugh under his breath. I grip his arm tighter, and he presses his lips to my temple in a reassuring gesture. Silvia takes my arm and tows us over to the steps. The carpet is red velvet, and it blends in with her dress. She ushers for Maxon to sit on the fifth step, taking me further up, sitting on the sixth step. She tells me to place my arms around him.

I roll my eyes at how ridiculous the whole thing is, but lean forward to drape my arms around his neck. Cameras and lights are up and the clicks come quickly. Maxon leans his head back into me, and his hair tickles the skin of my throat. His crown is off, but my tiara still sits on my head, literally embedded in my hair.

"Can we move them over to another part of the house soon?" I hear Silvia say, almost to herself. "Maxon, dear, change position." Maxon springs from the fifth step, until he's perched next to me. The camera follows him, and he entwines our hands between us, our skin resting on the material of my dress. He leans in and presses his lips to the skin just below my ear, his voice breathy, stirring my hair.

"You.Look.Beautiful, by the way." I feel the blush on my face, but lean further into him, and I feel the side of his mouth curve upwards against my cheek. "I love you," I whisper back, glancing up at him. He smiles at me, his teeth perfect and white. He puts his forehead to mine, disentagling our hands and cupping my face with his palms.

"And I, you." I can't help it. His eyes look like the old brown sweaters my dad used to wear before he died, and the chocolate I rarely got to taste, and I tangle my fingers in his hair, straightening. He draws me to him and our lips press together. He sucks on my lowerlip, his fingers working through my hair. I feel the pins slipping from their places, the curls probably flattening, but I don't care.

I pull away first, just enough to register his face. His eyes are still closed, and when they open, I laugh at the startled expression in them. His hands have moved to the waist of my dress, and we sit there, me laughing, and him smiling, his bottom half completely gone for the ruffled material of the gown. Almost immediately, maids join us on the stairs, and Maxon's hands are pried from me. They fix my make-up, and adjust the pins, rearreanging the curls so the flat ones fall to the back.

"You know what...I think these pictures will be-" I search the hall, and find Silvia, her hands clapped over her mouth, her eyes lit up. I smile. "Beautiful." She claps her hands and flits over to me as I rise. She straightens the neckline of my collar, making sure the tiara is still on properly. "America, you look beyond royal, today." I'm about to reply, when May, my younger sister, comes bounding through the doors.

Her dress is sky blue, one of the bridesmaids dresses. Her hair is secured into a bun at the back of her head, and she looks like the cutest thing I've ever seen. I smile and dismount the steps, heading over to them. Her hand is in my mom's, who looks around the room for me. When she sees me, she claps a hand over her mouth, and I swear I see tears in her eyes. "America," I've never seen her so happy.

She comes over and envelopes me in a hug. I grip her shoulders, breathing in the fresh smell of her perfume. "You're married!" She exclaims suddenly, as if I didn't know. I laugh, pulling back, smiling at her. "Ames, you look stunning. Thanks for picking me as your bridesmaid." My little sister still holds the white lilies she had to carry with her, and I have a feeling no one could pry them from her.

"May, you look so pretty." I say, tugging on one of her ringlets affectionately. "Where's Gerad?" Mom waves a hand dissmissively. "Somewhere with Kenna and James. How's Maxon?" I shrug. "Fine. Good. They wanted to get pictures..." I trail off. "Of course!" My mom says at the same time May goes, "Oo! Can I see?!" She jumps up and down, yanking on my arm, pouting.

I roll my eyes and take her hand, leading her down the hall. Photographers snap pictures of us, and I'm kind of getting used to the flash. I go to Silvia, who is pointing to the white roses that have been hung from the chandelliers in bunches, silver thread tying them together. "Could May see the pictures?" I ask, Silvia turning to me. "I'm afraid not," She says, frowning, writing something on a clipboard and handing it away. "They'll be put in the newspapers and magazines soon. And, of course, they'll be up in the hallways and bedrooms soon enough." May claps her hands excitedly, and I manage a small smile.

"Everything okay?" Maxon inquires from behind me. Before I turn, arms wrap around my waist, his fingers splaying out over the front of my dress, his chin rested in the juncture in my neck. I lean back into him, and he supports me. He smells vaguely of vanilla. "Mhmm." I answer, as he kisses my cheek.

"You two are so cute," May says, her voice a little dreamy. I blush. "May-" I say, just as Maxon grins. "Thank you, May." I roll my eyes, and Maxon holds me tighter. "Come for a walk?" His voice has lowered, and he slips one hand down my dress, in search of my hand, lacing our fingers. I turn in the circle of his arms, my hands on his chest. His head is bent toward me.

"But the pictures-" "Can wait," He says quietly, an impish smirk on his face. I can't help it, I smile back. He squeezes my hand, before backing up, pulling me with him. We slip through the double doors, me, smiling ridiculously, him gripping my hand tightly. We're on a gravel driveway of sorts, until Maxon leads me in the direction of the gardens. "So," He says as we walk. I hold onto his arm, my head resting lightly on his shoulder. He snakes his arm around my waist, his hand buried in the dress.

"You could get lost in that dress," He mutters, as if reading my mind. I giggle. "It's really a lot, isn't it?" I take the skirts in my hands, running my thumb over the soft ruffles. "Not for you, it looks perfect." I roll my eyes, looking up at him. We stop. We've got to the rose gardens, and it's deserted.

I WILL ADD ANOTHER PART TO THIS SO STAY TUNED FOR MORE SELECTION FANFIC!

THANKS FOR READING;)