Happy Valentine's Day!

I sure hope this was worth the wait...

I'm sorry for the long wait but I have many reasons for not updating such as school and getting caught in reading books. Also, this is the Valentine's Day chapter and it would've been kinda weird to not post this on Valentine's Day


Photo #50: A Thousand Petals

Eadlyn knows this as a fact: her parents were the relationship goals for a good majority of the country. It was surprising that their love story revolved around a Selection. Out of every eligible girl in the country, her mother was picked and she was the only one who could steal her father's heart. Illéa adored them for such reasons. Despite them being pre-chosen, their love was real; it almost felt as if they fell in love naturally.

They had a perfect public image that displayed their relationship as if it was from a romance novel. Even if the picture in the paper was them doing something as simple as linking arms, holding hands, or just standing next to each other; you could tell that these were two people who truly loved each other.

What remained private, however, was the romance they had with each other inside the palace walls. All the little notes and ear tugging were both actions still being used by them to this very day. (Eadlyn prayed for her mother to wake up so those actions could continue for the years to come).

Eadlyn never expected a romance like theirs when her Selection started but at this point, she didn't think one would ever be as good as theirs. As she looks at the next photo on the wall which has her mother sleeping on a bed of rose petals, she knew their romance was truly one of a kind.

-o-

One early morning, America feels the warm sunshine on her sleeping face. She smiles to herself as she stretches her arms underneath the sheets. America takes a breath and cuts herself off.

Something smells different in her room; something sweet and pleasant, almost citrusy.

America opens her eyes and sees something red in her vision. She blinks a few times, making her eyes adjust to the light, and once it does, she sees that the red isn't her hair but a rose petal. America slowly sits up and sees that she's alone in her bed which is covered in a series of colorful rose petals. Her bed is a rainbow of rose petals; from red to light green to orange to purple. She didn't think that roses could be that colorful but it definitely brings a smile to her face.

"Maxon!" She exclaims excitedly, knowing that this was obviously all his doing.

She turns her head to the side and instantly remembers that he isn't here.

America smiles so bright that it hurts her early-morning cheeks. She bunches up the roses and takes the handful up to her nose. She inhales deeply, taking in their comforting scent before throwing them in the air like confetti. With all the different colors, the petals look like actual confetti.

America slides out of her bed and sees that the petals are scattered all over the floor as well but a distinct trail is made up to the door. America walks gently on it, feeling the silky and velvety petals on her feet.

One of the minute lessons America had to learn during The Selection were the significance of roses. Roses all have different colors which mean that they all have different meanings. America merely thought that they just came in different colors but she was wrong and is now an expert in all things rose-related-botany.

As she looks down, she kicks the petals around for fun. The yellow, orange, and green roses do promote energy and cheerfulness.

When America opens the door, she sees the trail of rose petals continuing into the hallway. (At this point, she knows that Maxon bought all the roses in Illéa). Her excitement just keeps on growing at this point. She takes this time to skip and spin through the trail as if she was walking through an enchanted forest. Even the staircase is decorated and at the bottom, she sees Maxon holding a bouquet for her. America runs down as fast as she can, causing the petals around her to fly in the air. Once she approaches him, she puts his face into her hands and begins kissing him all over his face.

Maxon kisses her back and he picks away the petals that have found residence in her hair. He smiles at his wife's joy which only makes him smile even more. It makes his cheeks hurt but with the good kind of pain.

"Maxon Schreave..." America mutters. "I don't know how you came up with such a stunt but I love it just as much as I love you."

"And there's more..." Maxon mutters.

"Really?" America questions, her voice containing a bit of curiosity and a childlike-excitement. "How much more could there be?"

Maxon pulls out a bouquet of roses behind his back. He hands them to America and she takes them into her hands as if they were the most fragile object on earth. It wasn't just a standard bouquet. Each rose was red but had a different color tip.

"Novelty roses?" America questions, tapping the different colored tips.

"They're very useful, you know," Maxon says. "With the different colors, one could send many messages. Red meaning my deep love for you, pink for admiration or gentleness, white for remembrance, lavender for the eagerness in a relationship's growth, and cream is a simple thanks. I simply couldn't pick just one message for you because I have too many words to say. Hopefully, all these rose petals say enough."

"Oh my god..." America whispers, almost breaking into tears. "Maxon, I have no words for you."

"None?"

"None."

With that, she kisses him again. This time, as her message. When they part, she looks at the roses again and wrinkled her eyebrows a bit at the sight of a rose with its bud still closed. She pries it open with her fingers and stops when she sees a sparkle inside. She pauses. Even though America's not a botanist, she knows that the flower's pollen doesn't sparkle. This time, she opens each petal one at a time and find her eyes widening at the sight of a diamond necklace.

"Maxon!" America exclaims. "How did - ?"

Maxon playfully shrugs and America slaps his chest lightly. She snickers as she pulls back her hair and allows him to put the necklace on for her. Once he's done, she lets her hair down and holds onto the necklace. Her eyes meet his again.

"You spoil me," she tells him. It was more of a statement than a complaint.

"You deserve it," he responds.


I'm not going to lie, as much as I would love to receive the standard red roses, I would much rather appreciate a colorful bouquet. And forget the jewelry, just give me a pizza and ice cream.

Stay Tuned - Smile!