It's Friday, and I'm terrified.

Maxon, the Queen, and I have been working tirelessly during the whole week. We've had secret meetings to discuss what should happen tonight, what might happen tonight, and what can't happen tonight. Queen Amberly's arranged for there to be a segment on the report tonight for Maxon to talk freely, without interruption. It's then that he will pronounce the end of the Selection, as well as his love for me. The Queen's even figured out a way to sneak me into room so that I can be with Maxon on screen. She's even had a custom dress made for me to wear tonight. Maxon picked out the color, blue, saying that it'd compliment my hair. The dress is hidden in his closet.

I make my way down the corridor to his room, carrying a broom and some other cleaning materials. After all, I'm still his "personal maid." Nobody's going to suspect anything if it looks like I'm just going to clean his room. I reach the door and the guards posted outside let me in without question. I smile and walk inside, breathing a sigh of relief. I've gotten through the day alone, but now I have Maxon to help me through the night. And hopefully, the rest of my life.

Maxon's pacing the length of his room. He immediately stops in his tracks when he sees me there and smiles. I drop the cleaning supplies at the door and practically run to him. It's not like I saw him this morning or anything. But still. There's something about the weight of tonight that just enhances my need for him.

He scoops me up into his arms and kisses me for a long time. I love every moment of it, the way his lips feel against mine, the way his hands rake up and down my waist, the soft sounds that escape his throat every few seconds. I finally pull away and press my forehead against his, to which he responds, "Why so short, America?"

I laugh and nudge him in the side. "If everything goes right tonight, we'll have plenty of time to do that later." The thought makes me blush. The idea of getting to be with him - kiss him, hold him, touch him - all the time, without secrecy, makes me warm.

"Indeed we will, dear," he says, squeezing my hand gently. "But right now, let's get ready." He pulls away and walks towards his closet. He pulls out a gorgeous blue dress, one with layers and layers of fabric on the skirt in a ruffled pattern. The top is form fitted with a bit of fabric sticking out in an elaborate design.

"Oh, Maxon," I exclaim as he holds it out for me. I haven't seen it yet - Queen Amberly only told me she's gotten it. "It's beautiful. I can't . . . I can't just walk around the castle in that." The plan was for me to simply blend in with the rest of the crowd going to watch the report. But I can't go in dressed like . . . like a princess. I'll attract too much attention.

"Don't worry. A guard is going to personally escort you inside once the Report has started. No one will notice you're there until it's time," he says, having it all figured out. "Now, come on, put it on. I've been dying to see you in it all week."

I shake my head but do as he says. I start to take off my uniform, but am stopped by his gentle hands on my back. "Here," He whispers, brushing his lips against my neck. "Let me do it." I fight back the urge to turn around and kiss him, grab him, pull him onto the bed as he unzips my dress and helps to slide it off my body. I immediately move to cover my bra with my hands, feeling slightly embarrassed. But he doesn't make any mention of my unimpressive body - he just grabs the blue dress and slides it over my head. His hands are comforting as he pulls the dress until it lays right, as he zips it up. When he's done, I turn around to face him. He gasps at the sight of me and I can't help but smile. His eyes are devouring me, full of love and adoration I've never seen before. Nobody, not even Aspen, has ever looked at me like that.

"Oh, America," he whispers, running his hands through my hair so that it rests neatly across one shoulder. "You look beautiful."

"Why, thank you, Your Majesty," I smirk, biting my lip to prevent myself from kissing him.

"I hate it when you call me that," he says, rolling his eyes.

"I know," I agree, looking down at my hands entwined in his. "But you also kind of like it."

"Yeah," he admits, looking away. "It's sexy."

I raise an eyebrow and wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my face right in front of his. He inhales. "Let me dress you, Your Majesty," I whisper. He leans in to close the distance, but I pull away, teasing him. I can practically hear his disappointment. Note to self: Royal Titles are a definite turn-on.

I walk back over and pull out a suit, a navy blue on that his mother picked out for tonight. I set it down on the bed and then move my hands down Maxon's chest, slowly, teasingly unbuttoning his shirt. He sucks in a deep breath as I get lower and I can feel his desire against me. I smirk but don't give him the luxury of meeting his eyes. Instead I slip his shirt off and carefully slide the new one on, buttoning it just as slowly. He growls in frustration and I laugh again.

Then I move to work on his pants, which will be all the more fun. But Maxon's hands stop me and push me aside. "I think I'm better off getting ready alone," He says, turning away to pull down his pants. I laugh at him - he's so malleable when it comes to this kind of stuff. It's easy to get him a bit . . . . frustrated.

When he turns back to me, now slipping his arms into his suit jacket, his cheeks are still red from embarrassment. "That was not nice, America. I might have to reconsider tonight's decision," he jokes, leaning up against the wall.

I roll my eyes and walk over to him, grabbing a comb off his desk. His hair is so wonderfully disheveled. "Yeah, I'm sure that's going to happen," I say as I comb through his hair, parting it to the side and making it look a bit more, well, princely. "There. Ready?"

"Not in the least," he says, taking my hand in both of his. "I'm terrified, America. For you, for us. For how my father will react . . . What if my mother's wrong? What if the people object to my decision to end the Selection? And what about the girls? Oh, so many things can go wrong!" he confides.

"But they won't," I say. It's a lie - anything could happen tonight - but I need to comfort him. If he's not calm for this, we have no hope. "I trust you and I trust your mother. We're going to be fine, Maxon."

"And if we're not?"

"Then we'll figure it out." I place a gentle kiss on his forehead before stepping aside. It's nearly time for him to go. "I love you, Maxon."

"And I will always love you, America. No matter what happens tonight," he says. His eyes are slightly red and I'm worried he's going to cry. I have to fight the urge to hold him, to kiss him. He needs to go.

"No matter what," I repeat. He gives me a stiff nod before turning away and heading to the door. He opens it and closes it without looking back. I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding and sit down.

And I wait for the guard to come get me, to take me to seal our fate.

Sorry it took a while to update. I might not get another chapter in for two weeks, as it's AP testing as well as tech for two of my shows. Also, THE ONE COMES OUT IN A WEEK! That does not mean this fic is over. I will definitely continue to update this, as it is an AU. If I add anything in it that relates to The One, there will be a spoiler warning. But, anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I hope you WILL enjoy The One. Let's all pray that Maxmerica is endgame! Thanks for reading :)

AND YES, THE DRESS SHE'S WEARING IS THE ONE ON THE COVER OF THE SELECTION.