What the Rebels Want: Maxon & America Schreave

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Four Days Later: The Party

Maxon ran his fingers through my hair, my head lulling back into the plush pillows on our bed. "The party," I murmured. I rolled onto my side and faced Maxon. It took a second for my eyes to de-blur and then my husband slowly came into focus. I stroked his scratchy cheek and he closed his eyes and leaned into my touch.

"I don't want to go," he complained. I giggled.

"Silvia will kill you if you don't."

"Not if she can't find me," he smirked. I kissed the smirk off his face, to which he gladly responded.

"We have to go, Maxon. We can't be late. I've spent so much time preparing this."

"What do I get for going?" I rolled my eyes.

"For one, you get to meet the happy people of our country. And for a second reason, after this, we're planning our honeymoon."

"Okay okay," he grumbled. "I'll get up... Planning only," he muttered. I giggled again as I left to get ready for the party.

***

Birds chirped as I made my way outside. The grass was greener than before, some of the patches "magically" gone. White tents stood tall, exactly four: 1 for dessert, 2 rowed together for a buffet style lunch, and 1 afternoon tea tent. The dessert and tea were both on my left while the food stations were on my right. In the center, twenty-something tall tables with balloons attached to the tops stood, their white cloths swaying in rhythm with the wind.  A netted material hung from the tops of the four tents, not really preventing the sunlight from coming in, but for the look. "Oh Silvia! It's beautiful!" I gushed as I took in the party, about 30 minutes until our guests would start arriving.

"Thank you, my queen," she smiled. I turned around to face her when Maxon caught my eye. His hands were in his pockets, an evil squint in his eyes and a small grin on his mouth. He was wearing white pants and a white dress-shirt with a sliver suit-jacket draped over his shoulder. He looked like some sort of casual angel. As he slowly paced towards me, I got impatient and huffed. I walked towards him, stopping inches away from him. "What?" I demanded.

"It look's wonderful." The corner of his lips turned up. He raked his eyes up and down my body before meeting my eyes again. "As do you."

"What was that?" I remarked.

"What was what?" He innocently asked, his eyebrows shooting up and a smile plaguing his face. I wrapped my hands around his waist and leaned my head on his chest.

"Do you like it? The party, I mean." I glanced up at him when he didn't answer. He wore a look of amazement, pure shock.

"This is our first party, America. Look at its s beauty." I glanced around.

"Yeah, so?"

"This is the one where it's okay to mess up. And yet you didn't. I can't wait for the other parties." I blushed and looked down.

"Thanks."

"America!" Silvia called after me. "We need you here! The guests will be coming soon." I deeply inhaled and tried to let out the jitters in my stomach through my breaths.