Going Back To the One Chapter 4
Me: Hello again, sorry if the last chapter was... too long and not too dramatic. I had to make some normal stuff because I DID say America will return to a normal life.
I promise to make it up to you guys.
In the 4th chapter, we are going to look-see at the Selection... in KRISS's point of view. Don't be mad! She's just going to tell us what happened. That and the fact I don't want Maxon to tell this story, unless you want to cry your eyeballs out because of how sad he is.
This happens during the week before America became a teacher, hence, when Aspen returned to the palace, hence, the day after Maxon had his "nightmare".
I just have to reply to some reviewers:
winterprincess: Don't worry, we're not even halfway through the story yet. Pairings can change, and who said America has totally got over Maxon, not me! Thanks for the support my friend!
Now... What are you waiting for? Valentine's Day? Start reading!
Disclaimer – (I forgot to do this the last time) I do not own the Selection, all rights go to Kiera Cass
o-o-o
The sounds of utensils on plates signal breakfast time. The maids walk in, handing us waffles and sausages. It smells wonderful, like always the cooks don't disappoint.
Too bad I can't eat it; depression and loneliness make me lose my appetite.
I see a lock of blonde hair as the door swings open. Maxon makes his way and the girls and I curtsy— a sure sign of respect. I notice gauzes covering his knuckles. His hands looked swollen.
His voice plays in my head, saying:
"You can help me by getting the hell out of my room!"
I grab the cup of water in front of me and take a small sip, trying to drown my sobs. I look at him, wanting him to know that I care about him.
He averts his eyes. My heart shatters.
Elise points at his hands. "What happened to your hands, Maxon?"
Prince Maxon looks at her, annoyed and tired. He tightens the gauze and takes a seat, answering her question with, "Rebels," he lied. He remains silent and bites into his buttered waffle.
"The rebels hurt you?" asks Celeste with faux innocence, I feel a sour taste in my mouth whenever I realize she exists.
I want to tell them so badly that, No. No he wasn't hurt because of the rebels. He was hurt because of himself. Because he, himself, chose to let go of the person he loves...
... Who is not me.
The prince nods at her and takes his 3rd bite, standing up. "Sincere apologies my ladies, I am tired and I need to rest today, but I promise that I will spend time with you tomorrow." He leaves his barely touched food and walks out the door. My legs want to stand up and move forward so I can catch him, but my common sense tells me not to.
I excuse myself from the table and catch on with my reading, not eating anything. The Women's Room feels so empty now that there are only three of us left.
I must be crazy.
I'm supposed to be glad that America is gone. She was the only real competition I had anyway, now that she quitted, the prince is as good as mine. Or is he?
I stare at the clock. I wonder how long it will be before he finally makes a choice— a choice he doesn't want to decide.
Who will be the One?
o-o-o
After Silvia's lessons, I decided to take a walk around the palace. I am greeted by Anne, Mary and Lucy, carrying a few dresses in their hands, as I pass by America's old room. It wasn't my intention to pry but I really wanted to peek into America's room. Once they were out of sight, I carefully opened the door and walked in. The first thing I see is the grand piano, music sheets littered on top of it. I press a key not covered by paper and listen to the small sound echoing throughout the room.
"Music," I mutter. "Maybe if I could become more inclined to music, Maxon will love me more." I crumple a music sheet angrily in my hands and without looking I threw it at the balcony, watching it fall on the grass of the garden beneath us.
I go to the balcony and stare at the view. It was beautiful; America must be lucky to see this kind of scenery every day. Flowers dotting the bushes; sparkles of dew sliding off grass every morning and a mesmerizing sunset to end your day.
A man walks through the garden: Maxon.
Excited, I run down the stairs and pass through the doors that lead to the palace gardens. I wanted to see him and without that scum— I mean, America getting in my way, I can have him all for myself.
I follow him through the green maze and my steps are gentle on the grass. I hide behind the tall bushes, wanting to spy on him before I reveal myself.
He sees two shrubs, one with red roses, and the other with blue. His hand twitches, motioning toward the blue ones, before forcing his hand to pick a red one instead. He stares at it, trying his best to soak its beauty in. His face fills with fear and disgust and he drops the fragile flower, stepping on it before he reaches for a blue rose petal. I only notice now that he was holding a small book. It was old and the cover was made of leather. He opens the book to a random page and presses the 5 blue flower petals inside.
I must be crazy. Why do I feel hurt after watching him reject a red rose for a blue one?
He walks forward and I see a bench. He sits and stares at the sky, thinking about something apparently. His lips move and a soft tune comes from his lips. He's humming.
The song sounds sad, desperate and filled with love. I sit down behind the bush, avoiding myself from disturbing him. Listening to the song makes me feel weak; I never knew he had such a nice voice.
A memory pops into my mind. The Women's room, a stage, the Italians are partying... America's playing her violin.
My chest tightens. I remember this song— this is the exact song America played with her violin. I remember how Maxon looked at her with so much adoration, compassion and love. He looked so weak yet so happy at the time, like he was dreaming.
That was one of those rare times I glared at America, one of those rare times when I would let jealousy take me in its arms and possesses me.
I turned back and run away; zigzagging through the plants I stepped on. "Kriss!" he shouts, standing up and leaving the book on the bench. I stop in place, my heart racing. I hear his footsteps come closer and my instincts force me to run away. I was so eager to see him, so why am I running right now?
"GET OUT!" I remember the look in his face; it was like his final thread of sanity was going to snap at any second if I walked any closer.
His hands grab me by the shoulders and he turns my body to his direction. His eyes are at level with mine and I see my reflection in that beautiful brown color. I make a small squeak when he suddenly hugs me, patting my head softly.
His whispers were soft and meaningful as they enter my ears. "My dear," he says, making me feel warm all over. "I'm sorry. I'm so... so sorry for hurting you. And as a sign of my sincere apology—" He sweeps his hand across his forehead. "There, America is out of my mind," he sweeps it across his chest this time, "and my heart."
Is it? You can't get over someone after just one night.
I tell myself to stop being so negative and to take this chance and make whatever lies that come out of his mouth true.
I cup his cheek in the palm of my hand gently, soaking in each syllable of what he said. I touch my heart and place my hand on his forehead, then his chest. "There..." I whisper. "Now, I will be the one in your heart."
"I'm glad you are," he says, not letting go of my waist. He runs a hand through my dark hair and he guides it to my chin. He tilts my head up; our lips one move away from connecting.
"Can I kiss you now?" He asks. I feel his breath on my face, warm yet soothing. "I have a pretty good reason to break your first kiss rule."
For a moment, I am dazed, and then I shake my head and laugh. "And what is this reason, if I may ask?"
He looks at me like I already know the answer and he leans in even closer, our chest touching each other and our warmth is replacing each other's each second we stand there.
"Simple," he says, "Because I love you."
His soft lips are on mine and I realize that this is my first kiss. My first kiss is with the man I learned to love. I don't hesitate because I can't bring myself to do so.
I could compare it to dark chocolate, both bitter and sweet.
It was the sweetest moment of my life, the soft touches, and the gentle yet passionate aura coming from him, the harmony and grace of our movements and breaths as we stayed like that.
It felt incomplete though, like he was holding back. That's what made it bitter. It was like the more I gave myself, the more he would resist and push himself away. I went to the deepest corner of my mind and there I wrapped, sealed, lock and buried that thought where I could never think of it ever again.
He lets go of me and I could've sworn he was turning green. "I'm sorry." He says, "I just need to catch my breath."
I see a dark figure behind the trees; his eyes are looking at me, betrayal showing in his entire face. The man quietly climbs a rope I only notice now; a knife was in his hands in a desperate desire to haunt me.
I touched my lips and Maxon's hands are on my arms. My chest is rising and falling quickly; my entire body is quivering in fear. I notice that I'm not breathing.
"God, w-what did I just—? H-He found out. W-What am I going to—?" I mumble, my voice trembling.
Maxon looks at me in the eye with the deepest compassion. "What's wrong, my dear?" He asks. "Did I do anything to make you feel uncomfortable? If I did, I humbly apologize—" He's too worried about me to notice a man climbing out of the palace walls so easily.
A voice plays in my head. "Kriss, you are forbidden to fall in love with him. All I want you to do is to win his crown. Then, you will give it to me. Do you understand?"
I shake myself out of his arms, cutting him off. "N-No..." I whisper, not to answer Maxon's question, but contradict the person in my past that haunts me. "Y-You didn't do anything wrong." I say, turning to Maxon this time but not looking at him in the eye. I clutch my chest, wanting to be taught how to breathe again. "I-I'm just..."
Terrified, I do not tell him.
I put on a weak smile on my face and...
"M-Max—"...pretend to collapse on the floor.
My eyes closed, still conscious, I feel Maxon lift me in his arms, calling my name, telling me to wake up.
I'm sorry, I think. I just want to go back to my room. I don't want to walk or even breathe right now, especially when guilt is trying to break me like a million tiny needles being punctured into my skin. I'm going to get you hurt Maxon. He saw us and I'm sure he'll get mad because...
... I wasn't supposed to love you.
o-o-o
Me: Sorry for the short chapter. The next chapters will still be in Kriss's POV. There will be one with Maxon, and maybe Aspen.
Oooh... who's the man in the trees? The suspense must be killing you, right? Or maybe something else is killing you? Like maybe...
KRISS'S FIRST KISS WITH MAXON!
Yeah, I did that. I really, really did. Let the complaining begin!
Maybe leave a review and wait for me okay in my new chapter!
Bye-Bye!
