Song: How Long Will I Love You- Ellie Goulding
Chapter 20
The phrase "butterflies in your stomach", was a total under-exaggeration. Unless, of course, by butterflies it meant rabid demon-bats that haven't eaten in a week. Then, I guess, the saying was pretty accurate. It felt like all of my insides were twisting into some big, tangled ball of nerves. How did people get married all the time? I felt like my legs would turn into grape jelly and fall to the floor at any second. Was I supposed to feel like this?
Even though it felt like I was about to collapse, I couldn't stop myself from pacing. There was no doubt that I was in love with America, but I was afraid of looking stupid. Knowing me, I would say her name wrong, or trip over air or something and fall on my face. Oh, how smooth that would be, I thought sarcastically.
I walked over to the dresser in the room being used as my dressing room. Looking in the mirror, I checked to make sure my hair was neat and my tie straight. If I was going to act stupid, the least I could do was look good doing it. I frowned at the scars on my cheek, contemplating if I should attempt to conceal them under makeup, like what they sometimes put on Mom for the Report. They reminded me daily of what had happened during my last attempt at marriage. The scars were ugly and anything but invisible. They crisscrossed in jagged lines and took up most of the skin from my cheekbone down to my jaw. There was no way America saw them as anything less than disgusting.
"You shouldn't worry so much about those," said a voice from behind me. I turned from the mirror to find my mother in the doorway. She stepped into the room and shut the door softly behind her, approaching me. Mom put her hand on my cheek, a kind and maternal gesture. "She won't care."
I moved away from her to sit on the arm of a nearby couch. "You don't know that," I sighed. "I want to be perfect for her. And this," I motioned to the scars, "is not even close to perfect."
Mom shook her head at me. "That may or may not be true, but I still don't think she even notices them. I see the way she looks at you and I assure you it's not the scars America sees."
I knew she was probably right, but I still couldn't fight the urge to put a bag over my head and hide. This day was so special and I wanted it to be everything she'd ever dreamed of. Instead, it was filled with worries about rebels and a mildly deformed groom.
Mom walked over to my and pulled me to my feet. "You need to relax, Maxon. Especially since the ceremony starts in about seven minutes."
"What?" I exclaimed. I looked over to the clock on the wall. She was right. "No, I'm not ready! I lost track or time. I thought I'd have at least another half an hour!"
I started to hyperventilate, but Mom put her hands on my shoulders, steadying me. "Maxon, pull yourself together," she ordered. "You can't go out there looking like a wreck. She is more nervous than you, I'd bet. You need to be the picture of calm. America needs you to be there for her. Do you understand?"
I nodded and she let go of me. Mom was right. I had to be America's rock. I took a few deep breaths, calming myself the best that I could. My mother smiled at me and smoothed my suit.
"There. That's better. You're going to be fine. Just think about it, Maxon. Within the next hour, you're going to become a married man."
My eyes widened as I thought about that and all of the ways this could go horribly, horribly wrong.
"Oh sorry," she said sheepishly. "I'm not helping am I?"
"No. Not really," I scowled, though it was half-hearted.
She glanced at the clock and cast me an apologetic look. "It's five minutes until it starts. You should head out there."
I nodded and started towards the door, towards my future.
Mom followed closely behind me. I made my way to the chapel and took my place in front of the alter, nodding to the priest. His name was Reverend Elliott, I think. My mother made her way to her seat next to Father. He smiled at her and then me. He'd been nicer to me over the past months, but I still found myself having trouble trusting him.
I looked around at the faces in the pews. America's family, except for her dad who would be walking her down the aisle, sat in the front. May waved enthusiastically at me. She'd grown more comfortable around me. She treated me like a brother instead of a celebrity. I waved back at her with a smile. The rest of the guests were members of my extended family or very important royalty from our allied countries.
The doors opened and I jerked my head away from the guests. I could've sworn that my heart did flips in my chest when I saw her. The dress was tight at the top, complementing her curves. It loosened at the waist and fell elegantly to the floor. Her red hair was pinned up in an intricate hairdo that looked like it had taken an hour to do. Tendrils of it framed her face and it looked impossibly silky and soft. She wore hardly any makeup, letting her natural beauty do all of the work. In short, America was dizzyingly gorgeous.
It felt like all of the air left my lungs when she finished looking at the guests and finally turned her gaze to me. I saw her knees go a little weak as she leaned more heavily on her dad. It felt as if time was moving agonizingly slow as she walked down the aisle. We never let our eyes drift from each other. Her blue eyes staring into my brown ones.
When I thought I might explode if I didn't touch her, Mr. Singer let go of her and she reached for my hand. I took it gently, and then the other. America smiled at me and I smiled back softly.
We looked to the priest to show that we were ready to begin. Elliott started speaking, addressing our visitors. "Welcome! Today we are celebrating the union of Maxon Calix Schreave and America Singer. These two people were lucky enough to find love. They have been shown the miracles and power of true love. Together, they have faced the struggles of life and overcome them. They have formed a bond, so strong and so beautiful, and it can't be broken."
Sometime during his sermon, America and I looked back to each other. The priest's words were true, and it captured us almost completely, but what we had couldn't be described by any words or paintings or songs. It was just too grand for such simple things.
I was pulled away from her intense gaze when Reverend Elliott spoke to me directly. "Do you, Maxon Calix Schreave, take America Singer to be your beloved spouse, knowing in your heart that you will be a faithful friend and loving companion? Do you promise to stay with her in times of sickness and in health? In times of sorrow and joy? Do you promise to be completely honest with her? Do you vow to love and cherish her, for as long as you both shall live?"
America searched my face, waiting for an answer, hoping I didn't say no. As if I had any choice in the matter. My heart had made its decision. There was no going back. I squeezed her hands reassuringly.
"I do."
Her eyes gleamed with unshed, joyful tears. America managed to hold them in as the priest asked her the same questions. "Do you, America Singer, take Maxon Calix Schreave to be your beloved spouse, knowing in your heart that you will be a faithful friend and loving companion? Do you promise to stay with him in times of sickness and in health? In times of sorrow and joy? Do you promise to be completely honest with him? Do you vow to love and cherish him, for as long as you both shall live?"
America seemed as if the words were coming from the very depths of her soul.
"I do."
I grinned at her, unable to contain it. All I wanted to do was pull her close and kiss the heck out of her, but I knew we still had more things to do during the ceremony. For now, I would have to settle for feeling her hands tighten around mine.
"May I have the rings?" he asked, prompting Gerad, America's little brother, to bring up our silver wedding bands that rested on a pillow. Elliott blessed the rings quickly before moving on to the vows we'd written beforehand. "America, please repeat after me."
He whispered them to her and she talked loudly enough for everyone to hear. Out of all the people there, it was me who hung on to every word like each one was all that kept me alive. "I love you for who you are and for the man you will grow to be. I promise to help you in any way I can and I promise to support you. I vow to be kind and compassionate and never try to hurt you. We will start a family and I promise to protect it until the day I die. I swear to love you for forever and a day."
Her vows stole my breath away, made my heart pound like a drum. It felt like trillions of little jolts of electricity coursed from my skin to hers where our hands touched.
"Maxon, please repeat after me," Elliott said. I made sure that I held her gaze before starting.
"America, you are the only person I would want to spend my life with. For that reason, I promise to hold you when you need to be comforted. To smile with you when you're happy. I promise to not only be your best friend, but also your loving husband. I swear to never desert you and always be there to hold your hand when you need me. I promise to be with you during your darkest days and your lightest hours. I love you and I vow to make sure you know it for the rest of our lives."
Tears leaked from her eyes and I became aware that my eyes were wet. I couldn't find it in me to care.
My hands shook as I picked up the wedding band and slid it on to her finger. She did the same for me, her thumb running over my knuckles quickly and lovingly.
The priest smiled largely and announced, "I now pronounce you man and wife. Now, for God's sake, kiss the bride!"
We smiled at each other, not caring about anyone else in the room. America put her hands on my shoulders, standing on tiptoe to reach me. I lowered my lips to hers, kissing her like never before. It was filled with a love so overpowering it nearly knocked me off my feet.
Cheers and clapping came from the guests. I put an arm around her dainty waist before reluctantly pulling away. Her cheeks were flushed and pink. America leaned into my side, almost as if we were joined at the hip. She beamed at everyone. America's smile was one of joy and pride, almost as if she was saying Yes, he's my husband and I am so lucky. She looked up at me and I grinned along with her, knowing I never wanted to let go of her.
"I love you," I murmured in a low voice, for only her to hear.
"I love you, too."
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.
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America and I were nestled up next to each other in a limo headed to our reception, our fingers twined together. Her head rested against me and I inhaled her beautiful scent. We hadn't stopped touching since the wedding. Whether it be a hug or holding hands, there had always been some form of physical contact and it was fine with me. My heart ached at just the thought of being even centimeters apart.
A thought popped into my head. "So, America Schreave, was it everything you'd hoped for?"
America Schreave. The name felt strange on my lips, but it sent a little thrill through me.
Apparently, America thought it was strange too because she raised an eyebrow at me.
She put her mouth against mine, kissing me. When she moved away, she didn't go too far, letting our noses continue to touch. America bit her lip, sending a wave of want from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Her voice was low when she whispered to me, "It was better."
I leaned back in, but she avoided my lips by placing herself in my lap, laughing. I put my hands on her hips, drawing her closer, her hands resting on my shoulders.
"So you're happy?" I asked. She looked at me like I was ridiculous for even having to ask.
"Of course I am. I'm finally where I'm supposed to be. Right here with you. There's nowhere else I'd rather be. No one else I'd rather be with."
Her words sent a flood of warmth through my body. I nuzzled my face into her shoulder affectionately, breathing her in. Her fingers clung tighter to me and she gasped as if she was being shocked when my lips skimmed over her collarbone. Encouraged by her reaction, I moved my lips to her neck. I kissed America's throat lightly, hesitantly. The feeling of her racing pulse beneath my lips was all the incentive I needed to keep going.
I kept her pressed against me as I laid her down onto one of the couches along the limo's side. My hands rested on both sides of her head, caging her in with my arms. I lowered myself so that we were closer. I brushed my mouth over her skin teasingly and she shuddered under my touch. America ran her hands over my muscles, making it my turn to shudder with pleasure. I wanted her so much.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when there was a knock on the door. The driver spoke, "We're at the palace. Are you ready?"
America sat up instantly, making me fall from on top of her to the floor. My shoulder throbbed a little in response to the impact. "Ow," I grumbled.
"Is everything alright in there?"
"Uh, yeah. Can you just, uh, give us a minute?" America asked. She was blushing with embarrassment. A little laugh drifted in from the outside.
"Of course."
I pushed myself up from the floor, letting out a sharp breath as I rolled out my shoulder. "Next time, please be a bit more gentle, America. I think my arm is bruised."
"Aw, you poor baby," she said with a smirk. I pouted exaggeratedly and she burst into a fit of giggles. America moved closer and fixed my hair. I looked at her hair. The pins holding it in place were tangled in her hair and scattered along the seat. I couldn't even think of where to start attempting to fix it. She shooed my hands away and did it herself. When she was done, America turned back to me. Her hands smoothed my suit and fixed my collar. To be honest, I was grateful for her doing that. I was still kind of dazed from before and I hadn't even thought that I might've looked like a mess. I would've walked out there looking like an idiot.
America seemed satisfied with her handiwork and moved to the door. I followed and at the last second, she turned back to me. America grabbed my lapels, pulling me closer, and kissed me.
"We'll continue... this later," she said, smiling flirtatiously. Was she saying what I thought she was saying? I seemed to had lost my ability to form words and began to stutter. America winked before leaving the vehicle.
I slumped back against the seat, a lump in my throat. I tugged at my collar as a strange heat surrounded me. "Damn," I whispered to myself. Did she know how positively crazy she drove me?
I got out of the limousine to see America, standing in front of the crowd like a deer in headlights. I didn't blame her. There probably thousands of people cheering and waving from the sides of our path. I slid my hand into hers, trying to give her strength. "Just follow my lead," I whispered. She nodded as I smiled and waved to the people. Cautiously, America raised her hand to wave. The cheers grew louder. She started to smile as she got more confident. America looked like a real princess more and more each second.
She looked up at me and I smiled back at her. America gave me a quick peck on the cheek, making the applause nearly deafening. "Now you're just showing off," I laughed. She chuckled as we made our way to the palace's grand doors. We both gave a final wave to the Illéan citizens before going inside.
As soon as the doors shut, I felt America start to collapse and try to hold onto me. I stumbled, but I caught myself, bringing her towards me. She looked like she was going to be sick and her knees were weak and trembly. The guards stiffened in apprehension.
"America? Are you okay?" I asked, worry clawing at my heart. "Talk to me, love."
She took some deep breaths, steadying herself. She continued to grip my arm though she looked almost fine. "Yeah, um- I'm fine. I didn't realize how stressful that would be. It kind of caught me off guard."
Everyone in the room let out a sigh of relief in unison, some of them tittering nervously. I pulled her to me, kissing her hard on the forehead. My heart pounded against my ribcage. I'd thought I was going to lose her for a second. I hated that feeling. "Thank God," I murmured into her hair. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."
"I'm fine," she repeated. "You can't get rid of me that easily."
I laughed, though it was forced. I moved away reluctantly, taking a moment to absorb the room. Silvia had really outdone herself this time. There were purple lilies decorating the scene. The low lighting set up a romantic and dreamy effect. Delicious smells of food wafted through the air from the large buffet. America was gazing at a stage on the other side of the room where a group of musicians were speaking. "Go introduce yourself. Be quick, though. Our guests will be here soon."
She smiled up at me in response before hurrying over to the group. I watched her for a minute. It was nice to see her so excited about anything musical. For a while, America had only worried about it, about how well she would perform tonight. I hoped that after tonight she would begin to play for herself more. Maybe for me, too. I truly did adore listening to her music.
I was surprised when there was a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see a familiar guard. "Gabriel," I greeted with a smile. He grinned back.
"Congrats, sir." I squirmed in discomfort. We were friends, he didn't need to be so formal.
"You know I hate when you call me that," I whined.
He chuckled. "I know. That's why I did it."
I punched him lightly on the arm. "Ouch. That really hurt," he said with a sarcastic drawl. "Besides, what would you prefer I called you? My Royal Highness to Whom I Bow Down to in Worship? Because that's a little too long for my taste."
I was about to shoot back a witty reply when a guard called out to Gabriel. The man jerked his head towards the door. Gabe nodded in understanding. "People are here. You should have her come back over."
Gabriel turned and started to walk away, but stopped and looked back at me. "Really though, kid. Congratulations to you and America both."
I gave him an appreciative nod and he turned away, returning to his post. I looked back to America. She was chatting animatedly with the musicians. I hated to pull her away, but I had to. I called to her, "America, people are starting to arrive. Come and greet them."
She tossed the group one last smile before returning to stand next to me. We linked our fingers automatically. It was just second nature now.
The first people to walk in were a small group of my cousins from my mother's side. I introduced them quickly to America when I saw through a nearby window who was entering next. We would need plenty of time for them.
America's face lit up in delight when she was rushed by her family. They all hugged her at once, every one of them included. Except for a boy who stood a little ways away. I'd never met him before, but he bore such a resemblance to the others, that my best guess was that he was Kota, America's older brother. It made sense then that he wasn't joining in. I knew that he and the rest of Singer family were at odds with each other.
They all pulled back eventually and America's gaze landed on Kota. She motioned for him to come closer and he took a few small steps. America rolled her eyes in exasperation and walked over to him. She hugged him and he returned the embrace, though it was slightly awkward-looking. "I'm happy for you, sis," Kota said before pulling away. She looked puzzled as he gave her shoulder a small squeeze.
Her whole family stared wide-eyed as he came over to me. We shook hands quickly, his grip strong and his eyes saying something along the lines of If you hurt her, I'll hurt you.
Without another word, Kota left and moved further into the room. I cleared my throat and asked,
"That's Kota?"
America nodded silently. He was so different from how I'd imagined him. I'd thought he was, for lack of a better term, a conceited jackass. That was definitely not how he'd acted just moments ago.
We had to move on to the other guests so the Singers went to go find their seats, which were at our table along with my parents and Aunt Adele. America and I spent the next forty-five minutes greeting guests, some of which neither of us actually knew personally, but were just the random dignitaries Father had insisted upon inviting.
I could tell that by the end of it that America had found it draining and so had I. We both practically fell into our seats, sighing. America rested her head on her hand and her eyes drifted shut. I watched in amusement for a bit but ended up nudging her before she actually fell asleep. It wasn't really an appropriate time to sleep. "America," I sniggered. "I don't think it would be good to fall asleep at your own wedding reception."
"Ugh. I've had a lot going on today. I just want us to go up to your room and get some sleep."
"Well then it's going to be a long night. Try to get through this. For me?" I pleaded.
She pulled herself to sit up straight in her chair, rubbing her eyes. America held out a hand and I took it gently. She sighed playfully, "Okay. For you."
I smiled and she flashed me a grin. I saw her go from tired to happy in an instant. It reminded me of how much I loved her smile. It was beautiful. The only thing better was the sound of her laugh.
In an attempt to get both, I crossed my eyes. She snorted adorably and it sent me into a bout of laughter. Everyone turned to look at us. Their expressions of utter shock didn't help us in containing ourselves at all. America leaned against me, stifling her laughs in my shoulder and I covered my mouth with my hand. America's face was red as she hid her face.
When we calmed down, she wore an expression of total humiliation. "Why did you do that? It was mortifying," she hissed, though not angrily.
"I wanted to make you laugh," I replied, thinking that was a good enough reason.
"Yeah. Well, now, they probably think we're insane."
I raised my eyebrows at her. Since when did she care what other people thought? "So what? Did you see their faces? It was so worth it."
She smirked at me. "Oh, definitely," America snickered.
After a few minutes of chatting, America and I went up to the buffet and got dinner. I couldn't help but smile at her expression. She looked like she was in heaven.
When we all finished eating, Silvia went up to the microphone to make an announcement. "Thank you all for coming to this heartwarming occasion. It is time for the newly weds to have their first dance!"
A spotlight turned on, encasing us in a soft, yellow glow. I held out a hand to America and she took it lightly. We walked out to the dance floor together. I brought her closer to me, letting my hands rest on her waist. She put her arms around my neck, clasping her hands behind me. The band started playing as we danced. There were no specific moves, and I thanked God for that. I was far too lost in her eyes to think of much else.
I found myself looking for the qualities of a princess in her. America was strong-willed, always prepared to fight for what she believed to be right. She wasn't afraid to tell someone they were wrong. I'd definitely learned that firsthand. Intelligence was another thing I couldn't help but notice about her. You could practically see her putting things together and making connections in her mind. The most important thing, though, was that she was just plain good. America was always looking to make things right, helping in little ways you could easily overlook. Just the other day, we'd both been busy so we'd been apart. By chance, we passed each other in the hallway. She'd brushed her fingers against mine ever so lightly before moving on. That little gesture of affection had helped relieve me of some of the stress I'd had and it made the rest of the day easier. America probably didn't even realize how much better she made the lives of those around her. I doubted she thought the same thing I did, that she would be an amazing leader.
"Are you ready for this?" I asked, whispering softly.
"Ready for what?"
"Ready for all of it. Being princess, ruling a country, being a queen one day," I explained. America pondered this for a minute. She moved her hand to my cheek, running her thumb over it, almost absently.
When she answered, America spoke with confidence. "If you're there with me, there's no way I could fail."
I couldn't help but break into a smile. The trust she had in me felt unbreakable, sturdy. I kissed the tip of her nose, hoping it told her that I had faith in her and that she could always rely on me.
.
.
.
A little while later, America and I made our rounds to all of the tables. My family seemed to fall in love with her and many of them told me so when she wasn't listening. We all joked and laughed for a good forty-five minutes. America seemed reluctant to leave as we headed back to our table.
When we reached our table, she stopped to look at Kota before he noticed her. She had a odd look on her face but I could tell she needed to talk with him. I nudged her towards her brother.
"Kota?" He turned to look at her, one eyebrow arched up, a slightly cocky gleam in his eyes.
"What is it America?"
"Can I talk to you for a minute? In private?" she asked. Kota looked intrigued as he got up from his seat and walked away, America following in his wake. I watched them for a minute before taking my seat.
I looked around at everyone. Our parents and my aunt were all talking together, something about how beautiful America looked in her dress. The rest of America's family sat down on the other end of the table. Kenna and James, America's sister and brother-in-law, were holding their baby girl, Astra, and talking quietly to each other. May and Gerad were giggling together, speaking quickly.
That conversation seemed the most inviting, so I got up and approached them. Gerad tapped May on the arm and pointed to me. She looked up and hurriedly tried to stifle her laughs. I raised my eyebrows at them.
"What's going on over here?" I asked with a smile.
"Nothing," May squeaked.
At the same time, Gerad said, "May was saying how it would've been funny if Ames had stepped on your toes while you were dancing."
May looked horrified. "I was not, Gerad! You started it!" She turned to me. "He started it. I swear."
I laughed and shook my head at them. "No, you're right. It would've been funny. Trust me, she's done much worse than step on my toes."
They laughed and I laughed along with them. It was nice to talk with people who didn't have sky-high expectations for me as royalty, but just talked to me like a brother.
"Maxon?" May said hesitantly.
"Yes?"
She looked so serious I suddenly got worried. Was something wrong?
She bit her lip in that way America did sometimes when she was nervous. "Are you and Ames going to have kids?"
I almost burst out laughing. I'd been so worried that something had been wrong that the idea of her asking a personal question seemed absurd.
"Yes, May. I hope so."
She squealed in excitement and Gerad looked at her as if she was insane. "Yay! I love being an aunt! I mean, have you seen Astra? She's so pretty!"
"That's true, but let me tell you a secret." I leaned in to whisper to them, as if I didn't want anyone to hear. The anticipation on their faces was priceless. "Our kids will be ten times as cute."
May looked like she was going to die of excitement. Gerad even looked happy.
"I heard that," Kenna said from behind me. "And it's not possible."
I was about to reply when I heard Silvia's voice over the microphone for the second time. "Alright, ladies and gentlemen. We have a special treat tonight! Princess America will be performing with our band on the violin!"
It was finally time. I knew she was still nervous. I had to find her. Leaving my spot next to May and Gerad, I headed in the general direction that America and Kota had gone. Moving through the crowd was a pain and I jostled my fair share of people in the process. I was about to apologize as I walked right into someone, but the familiar figure leaned in closer to me. America. I held her to me comfortingly.
"I can't do this. I couldn't get the song right. I'm going to fail and everyone's going to laugh at me and-"
I interrupted her babbling. "You're not going to fail, darling. Just look at me. It'll be just you and me. You'll be fine."
She nodded and I squeezed her hand lightly. America moved past me and to the stage. I watched her go as she went to her seat, took out her violin, and got into position. When she met my eyes, I blew her a kiss. I meant for it to be a joke, but it seemed to reassure her.
The music started. It was a song that seemed to speak, only with notes, not words. It told of romance and love. Of commitment and trust. Of happiness and joy. I let myself feel the notes in my very core and lose myself in the song.
That is, until, it was her solo. America's music turned into the only one being played. She kept her eyes on me. The sound of her violin was sweet, but strong and powerful. America seemed like she was just waiting for when she would mess up.
But she didn't. She played through the rest of the song perfectly. At the end, all of the musicians stood to bow. Everyone applauded and cheered. I was the one who clapped the loudest. My heart was practically bursting with pride. My smile must've been a mile wide.
I made my way to the steps where she would leave the stage. I imagined a scene in my head where she would come down and I'd sweep her off her feet and into my arms. I'd tell her how beautiful she'd sounded and how lucky I was to have someone as talented as her in my life.
Unfortunately, when I reached the steps, America was still up on the stage, talking with another musician. I felt a tiny twinge of irritation. Why did he get to talk to her for so long? I was the one who she'd married today. Why couldn't it be me? That probably sounds awful, that I wanted her all to myself, but it was true.
Eventually, after what felt like a long time (but probably wasn't), America came down the stairs. I grabbed her hand impulsively and we went to the dance floor. "Looks like someone made a new friend," I said as we started dancing.
"Jealousy isn't a good color on you, Maxon," she remarked.
"What? I wasn't-" That's a lie. "Okay, maybe a little, but not for the reason you think. I just want to spend time with my wife."
She acted nonchalant. "It's okay. He's not really my type, anyways. I don't usually go for my older brother's boyfriend."
"Wait- usually?" America smirked at my comment and I raised an eyebrow. We chuckled and I brought our bodies closer together.
There were a few minutes where we didn't say anything. America and I just held onto each other. Then, I remembered what I'd forgotten to say to her. "You did great up there."
"You really think so?"
I kissed her lips quickly, barely even able to be called a touch. I made sure that her eyes were locked onto mine before I said, "I know so."
She gave me a modest smile as she blushed and looked away. Why couldn't she see how amazing she was? It wasn't like she was just doing it to get compliments. She really didn't see all of the things I saw, all of the beautiful things.
I put a finger under her chin, lifting her head so she had no choice but to meet my eyes. I rested a hand against her cheek, feeling her smooth skin against my fingertips. "I mean it, America. You did amazing."
I kissed her forehead and she clung to me tighter. Again, I felt her trust in me. Every touch seemed to convey that feeling. It nearly knocked me off my feet. At the same time, it felt like it was the only reason I was still standing after everything we've been through.
.
.
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We continued to dance, even after we'd danced so much that my feet began to hurt. I could tell America didn't want to stop and I didn't have it in me to deny her this.
Suddenly, I felt her shiver against me. Was she cold? Though I didn't know how that could be possible considering how it was around eighty-five degrees in here.
America looked around, turning her head slowly. I tried to see what she saw. There was nothing that I could see.
After a minute, she seemed to dismiss the thoughts in her head and pulled me closer to her. Why was she acting so strange? I moved away a little bit. "Are you okay, love?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." She moved in again."I just don't ever want to see you hurt."
I decided to forget about how weird she was being. I didn't want to ruin our wedding night with suspicion or wariness. I kissed the top of her head, America's hair tickling my face. "Well, I'm glad I have you because as long as that's true, nothing will seem that bad."