The Royalty

Chapter 44

Maxon's POV

I was floating. Maybe. I actually didn't know. I wasn't really sure what was going on. It was just blackness everywhere. I didn't feel anything. It was odd, but not exactly unpleasant. I must've stayed that way for hours. That's what it felt like, at least. The more I experienced it, the more I grew to like it.

Suddenly, I was bombarded by my senses all coming back to me at once. I was cold. There was a metallic taste in my mouth. A bright light burned against my closed eyelids. The air smelled of cleaning chemicals. An insistent beeping noise tugged at my consciousness.

And someone was holding my hand. I didn't open my eyes to see who it was, knowing the lights would hurt my eyes. So, I did the natural thing, and squeezed the person's hand gently.

"Maxon?" a voice gasped. Every note expressed in that short utterance felt like a snippet of the most beautiful melody to ever be heard upon this earth.

I felt soft lips kissing my face frantically. I really wanted to find out who was smattering me with all of this affection. Slowly, I opened my eyes a bit. It stung, but I managed to open them enough to let in the image of a fuzzy figure surrounded in a halo of white light. I caught glimpses of the figure's features. Red hair. Sparkling blue eyes. I couldn't keep my eyes open long enough to see their entire face at once, but I could tell that they were dazzlingly gorgeous.

My mouth was dry and my throat scratchy, but I managed to ask, "Am I in Heaven?"

I heard a half-hearted laugh, sounding like it was mixed with small sobs.

"No, not yet, sweetie. Thank God, not yet."

My vision was starting to become sharper and I was very certain that this person was stunning.

"Are you sure? You seem like an angel to me."

There was another tearful laugh. I saw them shake their head.

My eyes finally adjusted completely after a few more moments. I felt a goofy smile spread across my mouth as I saw who my angel was.

"America," I sighed happily. "You're even better than an angel."

She smiled at me. Tears ran down her cheeks. I couldn't figure out why she was crying. What was there to be sad about? I questioned her on it. "What's wrong?"

America traced my hairline with her fingertips. "Nothing," she replied, still grinning at me. "Nothing at all."

She watched me for a few minutes, just running her fingers over my skin calmingly. I nearly fell back to sleep.

"How are you feeling, Maxon?"

I didn't know how to answer. Everything was jumbled up inside my head, like my brain was a mixer and someone had turned it on to the highest setting. When I did eventually grasp a feeling, I couldn't put a name to it and it would then disappear into some distant recess of my mind.

"I feel... weird," I answered, not really concerned with my inability to give a decent response.

America gave me a wary look. She, on the other hand, seemed very concerned about my answer.

"Weird?"

I sighed, "I don't know. Just weird."

She laced her fingers through mine again. America seemed to be thinking something over. "It's probably just the painkillers. The doctor said you would be a little disoriented."

"Right," I said, trying to sound like I knew exactly what she was talking about even though I had no clue. I was pretty sure I should know what she was referring to. "Painkillers. Of course. That, uh, must be it."