A/N: I am having trouble with Maxon's train of thought during this. He is angry at America, but still loves her. Yet somehow he is convinced by his father to send her home. I would definitely take any insight into consideration :) Thanks for reading!
I felt deflated. It was already over. I knew before it even started, I had already lost. All the work I had done, training for this moment, when I could finally take him. It was all for nothing. At the end of the day, he was going to win and there was nothing I could do about it. I knew how this would go. If I didn't agree to his terms, he would beat me unconscious. Or worse, now that he realized how much America means to me, he would drag her in here and make me watch.
America.
I looked up at her as I walked out the room. She looked distraught. I opened my mouth to assure her that I would take care of this, that everything would be alright. At that moment, my father's grip on my shoulder tightened and I dropped my head to the floor as my father forced me out of the door.
America. I had never before had such a strong reason to fight. If only i knew that she felt the same as I did towards her, I could have ended this a long time ago. This was my fault. I had ignored her, fought with her, favored Kriss. I had panicked when America had pushed me away, it shattered me. Despite the never-ending torture of my life, I had never been in so much pain as I had those days without her. Almost from the moment I had laid eyes on this girl, I had fallen head over heels. And now I was seconds away from losing her.
I shivered slightly at that thought as we continued our march down the hall. We passed guards and maids, all of whom stayed far out of our way. It didn't take an expert to read the look of fury in my father's eye. Every rasp of my father's breath sent a chill down my spine. I knew he was plotting his revenge.
I kept my eyes to the floor, trying to think of a way out of this. Those moments after the report, I had never spoken to my father that way before. I couldn't imagine how he would react to my outburst. I wanted to run, to fight. But all my work to try and make that dream a reality had disappeared as soon as I saw the hatred, the contempt, my father displayed towards America. One wrong move on my part and he would make good on his veiled threat.
"I could simply talk to her," he had said, as though he was going to ask her in for tea.
I had to endure this. It might be my last chance to do anything for America. Even if I lost today and she had to leave, at least she would be safe from this.