The Selection One Shots

Busy Morning

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Maxon POV
I've been up for an hour and a half at this point. First I got dressed and then I began to look through a box of photos. Ones I've taken and ones other people around the palace had. Photos of my family, the three of us. Before the rebels dressed up and brought that number down to one. My favorites were the ones when I was little, before my first beating. Sure, my father wasn't the nicest back then but I was still so clueless. I could smile easily when my father placed his hand on my shoulder. As time goes on I look stiffer in the photos, at least the ones which have my father in them. My mother was always beautiful, always kind. Didn't make a difference how staged a photograph was, she was glowing with joy for her husband and son. I wish I looked more like her, I was his clone except for my mother's warm chocolate eyes.

My 20th birthday is coming up in a week and I can't believe that photos like this won't exist anymore. There must be a photo in here for every single birthday. Correction, they will happen in a few years, but the photos will be different. I will be in the back and my future wife will be next to me, with our child standing between us. Maybe multiple children, but in the Illea family that would be tempting fate.

I have other things to get done today so I quickly pack up my photographs and walk over to her door and knock.

My fiancée tended to wake up pretty late, she might still be sleeping. To my surprise she opened the door and gave me a deep kiss. I could never get tired of these kisses, though our first would always be the most memorable. "You look beautiful my dear." America was in an eggplant colored day dress allowing her hair to be that much brighter. How could someone always look so perfect?

"I'm not your dear," America smirked and began loosening my tie. I began to blush as she maneuvered her delicate hands. Hands that created the most wonderful music.

"I'm glad you're up, we have a busy day. Breakfast is waiting for us. You have etiquette right after we eat while I go through some more of my father's papers. After we get a quick lunch break before having to deal with birthday preparations. Then tonight your mother is coming, with May and Gerad," I began rattling on, "and that's not even everything America, Sylvia didn't even bothering telling me everything because she knows I'll forget." My blush didn't fade as I stared into those sky blue eyes. "We don't have time."

"I love it when you get all nervous and kingly," she giggled holding my tie up in her hand as if teasing me. "If I heard that correctly, breakfast is waiting for us. Which means we have time and can shift the schedule a bit."  America kissed my cheek easily, it's those heels I reminded myself. "We aren't married Maxon, they can't expect me to be a queen yet." She reached for my suit jacket and began to unbutton it. Oh how I loved her.

"Sylvia will have my head." I grasped onto her hands before she could get to the next button, "I can't abandon my duties."

"Sylvia can't do this." America pressed her body to mine and began to kiss my neck, her hands still in mine. How can one person have such a grip on me? I attempted to take a step back but she just followed and stepped closer. "What's more important My royal husbandness to be? Taxes or me?"

I let go of her hands, "We have half an hour. No longer darling." I would spend every minute of my life with my America if I could.

America's eyes were filled with mischief as she began to slowly unbutton my jacket once more. I cautioned, "Be careful, I still need the jacket for the rest of the day."

She threw my jacket onto my bed without a care and threw off her heels. "I'm careful," she whispered. I looked down at my fiancée, now shorter than me, "We have a different definition of careful darling."

She grabbed onto my hand  without saying another word and recklessly ran from my room, bringing me along with her.

It was raining this morning, which meant dancing in garden. Something I would never get tired of.

~~~

I sat with America at the dining table after we just finished breakfast. We were both dripping water all around the palace, neither of us having time to go upstairs and change clothing. It was very smart of her to remove my jacket and tie, they would be ruined now. America's hair and dress were stuck to her, outlining her figure, not that I should be looking. But obviously my eyes tend to wander, no amount of training could make me not notice my dear's beauty. But when we weren't staring at each other we developed a game. Waiting for Sylvia to come had become quite fun. When guards or other staff walked in and saw us I could see them stifling their laughter, sometimes some of them forget to and begin to laugh loudly. It was hilarious to see who would break their stoic demeanor.

Then everyone including America and I begin to laugh along. I doubt any king before me had ever done something so drastic. My white shirt at this point was transparent and my hair was a mess, not even mentioning the mud on my shoes. Luckily none of my scars were visible through the fabric of the shirt. After further thought this was exactly what I needed after such a heavy morning, America knows me better than I know myself.

"My dear, I can't wait to be married to you." I held onto her hands from the other side of the table, "I wish we could move the wedding up."

I noticed America's gaze go from my chest to my eyes, "And as much as I would love to get married to you in this water soaked dress, your advisors postponed it for a reason. I'm not ready to be queen, you still have to work with August to disband the rebels, and so many other responsibilities that I can't even begin to consider at the moment. Plus, I would like to enjoy the privacy while it lasts."

Before I could come up with a rebuttal, Sylvia entered the room with her clipboard. As instructed, she walked up to us without bowing. I had decided that until America was made Queen, Sylvia shouldn't bow to me when America was in the room, I want America to be my equal, or at least in ways I can get away with.

"Your majesty, Lady America." I noticed Sylvia taking in our dripping attire, "May I suggest that both of you change before the work day? There is too much to get done and we don't need to give the staff an extra task your majesty."

I noticed America cover her mouth to keep herself from laughing, oh great. I had to be the composed one today. "We planned on it once hearing our full schedules, I wasn't sure when you would arrive and I didn't want to keep you waiting. After all, tardiness is not a quality the royal family is meant to have." I hope Sylvia doesn't find out what time we actually arrived for breakfast.

"Very true your majesty, thank you for being considerate of my time." It was easy to see that Sylvia was trying to guess what the couple had been doing. I doubt dancing would be something she frowned upon, especially because she had caught us in much worse situations. After America left to the women's room Sylvia decided to come speak to me and remind me to be wise in my decision making. It had been years since Sylvia had chastised me, it was nice feeling young again without the weight of a crown. While it might have seemed reckless to allow us  to live together, we were supposed to have strict guidelines, emphasis on the word supposed. Having no parents at home and us being teens made them decide to be precautionary, no sleeping in the same room, no dates without somebody nearby, most day activities had to be separate and America's mother would stop by at random intervals to check on us. Luckily Magda Singer hasn't caught us doing anything we shouldn't, I'm sure America would be forced to go home if she did.

But as much as we are separate, I desperately need her to stay with me. Forget about learning to be a queen, America got me out of my slumps and I seemed to get my dear out of hers. As someone who has been watched day and night since I was born, I never thought I would understand loneliness. But when she isn't here that is all I feel and I become even less productive. So the advisors agreed to let her stay under the strict guidelines. We might have broken them a few times, maybe much more than a few, but that's only because we can't stand to be without each other. Maybe I'm more like my mother after all.