#and tbh its too funny to not raise baby full send on main like the risk v reward....the potential....

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Theoreticals; part 3 (maxwell x mc)

part one. part two.

asdkfjals guys i finally DID IT it only took me a damn year but this is it, the final piece of the hypotheticals verse! love u all for continuing to bother me about this until it was finally finished,, idk what else to say i dont wanna ramble but im proud for my babies that they made it this far, fuckin hooray

note: this is the final companion piece to hypotheticals and empiricals, and honestly if you haven’t read those then u probably should because this one has a lot of plot throwback and also tbh its like very divergent from the main storyline seeing as i started writing it in 2017

summary: the coronation is actually happening feat. private planes, maxwell as a baby????? an unfortunate run in with some potpourri, dancing, drake, and an uber driver

word count: 5800+

Well.

Riley takes a deep breath, attempting to calm the absolute whirlwind of thoughts in her head that are, at any moment, threatening to become a hurricane. She can’t take the waterworks again, not when she’s finally stopped crying. She turns slightly to catch herself in the mirror, rubbing at the last smears of mascara with her thumb. The girl who looks back reminds her far too much of the girl who used to stare out from the curve of a freshly washed spoon in a New York bar. A reflection of another time; a defeated time.

She rolls her shoulders back. Today is not the day for defeat. At least, not yet.

When she emerges back out into the hallway, she’s relieved to find it near deserted but for a few of the king’s guard. One of them spots her and turns to the others, whispering something. She raises her hand in a brief wave, quickening her pace back towards the ballroom. Now is not the time to be intercepted and interrogated about her whereabouts.

She rounds the corner too quickly, head turned back to be sure none of the guards are still watching her, and nearly collides with Liam, who is also taking his corners too fast.

“Lady Riley!” he says, catching her by the shoulders before she can fully crash into him. His eyes, surprised and earnest, wash over her in such a way that she can feel herself beginning to blush.

“Hey,” she replies, mouth quirked up in a sheepish half-smile. “Fancy meeting you here.”

He laughs, dropping his hands back to his sides. Riley can’t quite meet his gaze; the full measure of him is just so… well, there was a reason she had decided to come to Cordonia in the first place. Liam is still Liam, still resplendent with that aura of dignity he carries so easily, still with that face like her teenage daydreams.

And now, this. This utter mess she’s made with his heart. No, there are too many reasons to keep her eyes downcast, fingers toying with the satin of her gown.

Liam’s voice drops lower. “I’ve actually been meaning to speak to you, if you have a moment?”

“For you?” Riley shrugs. “Of course.”

“There’s a family garden out back,” he holds out his arm, and she takes it, hesitantly. “The guests aren’t allowed out there, so we won’t be interrupted.”

She smiles, but it comes off more pained than pleased. “Oh, I mean there’s no need to, ah… we can just talk here, if you want?”

“I think it’d be better to have some privacy,” Liam says, and the air of finality to his statement pulls Riley reluctantly along with him.

The ‘family garden,’ another one of Liam’s modest descriptors, turns out to be a sprawling thing almost double the size of the palace itself, adorned at every turn with manicured greenery and delicately arranged flowers. Even the cobblestone paths seem somewhat luxurious, which is a relief to Riley as it means Liam won’t fault her for looking everywhere but at him.

“I’m glad you came here,” he says. “It’s been a joy getting to know you, and seeing you defy the odds against you. You have a very particular kind of strength about you that I admire.”

“Thank you,” Riley says, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m sure you must have some idea of what I wish to speak with you about.” His brow furrows, and he looks off towards the lights of the palace. “I hope… I hope this doesn’t come as a surprise.”

Riley turns, finally, to look at him, her heart pounding in her chest, “Liam, I —”

“I can’t marry you.”

Riley’s mouth falls open. “Hold on, what?”

“Oh —” Liam looks taken aback. “Did I misjudge?”

“Misjudge?” Riley stops walking, dropping his arm so she can stand in front of him, staring. “Misjudge what?”

“You,” Liam says gently, his eyes sweeping across her face, “Your heart.”

“My…” Riley reaches up and presses her hand to her mouth. “Oh.”

Oh.

“I thought as much,” Liam sighs. “I know I’ve been quite open about my affection for you, and I worried you might feel… obligated? Perhaps that’s too strong a word, but it troubles me to think that you might not be living the life you want. With the person you want to live it with.”

Riley feels her heart in her throat. She presses her hand harder against her lips.

“I suppose I wanted the chance to tell you all this before the official announcement to the court. I wanted you to know that your presence here has never been anything but a gift, and I’ve never expected anything in return.”

She nods.

“All that to say… I’m not going to ask you to marry me tonight. Or any night, for that matter. I didn’t want you to spend the whole ball fretting over the possibility of it, when you could just be enjoying yourself.”

She nods again, swallowing against the lump in her throat. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

The breezes rustles against them, the gentle scrape of leaves echoing in the wind.

Liam laughs softly, “It’s funny, Drake had always mentioned that you —”

“Oh my god,” Riley squeaks, voice sharp with panic, “No, Liam, oh my god. It’s not Drake. I’m not — we’re not — I would never—”

Liam laughs even more at her response, stunning her into silence. “Riley, I know. It’s my job to be aware of what happens in my court.”

“Oh.” Riley hates herself. “Uh, just wanted to… y’know, clarify that.”

“He does have a fondness for you, though,” Liam muses.

“He told you?”

“Well, not in so many words. I asked him once what he thought of you, and he said you were ‘almost passable,’ so I drew my own conclusions.”

“Wow,” Riley crosses her arms across her chest. “High praise from Drake.”

“The highest.”

“Can we… uh,” Riley nods towards a nearby stone bench, nestled amongst the rosebushes. “Can we sit down? Sorry, this is just…”

“A lot?”

“A lot.”

They both sit, Riley sweeping her skirts underneath her to allow Liam more space. There’s a fountain not far off, reflecting the lights from the party beyond, although the splashes of water are the only sounds of civilization she can hear.

“I’ve wanted to tell you,” Riley says nervously, “I kept trying to find the right time, but you know how that is. It doesn’t exist, not really.”

“You don’t have to apologize, if that’s what you’re getting at,” he reassures her, “I understand.”

“I know, but that almost makes it worse. You’re too good. I’m such a shitshow.”

He laughs. “On the contrary, you’re the only thing about this ball that isn’t.”

Riley hesitates. “Not to be weird or anything, but can I… can I ask who told you?”

“About you and Maxwell?”

Hearing Liam actually say his name sends a rush of something through her. It’s as if he’s made it real, now; as if something about him knowing has elevated the quiet nothingness of their relationship into a profound and essential Thing.

“Yeah,” she whispers.

Liam looks pensive. “No one told me. I mean, not exactly. It’s just that I’ve known everyone here all my life, and when you’re around someone for that long you notice when things… change.” He glances at her with a smile. “You’ve been a catalyst for a lot of that, here.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I wasn’t entirely sure at first, it was just a hunch. But you know how Maxwell is: never stops talking, terrible at lying, loyal to a fault. He’s always been at the center of things. And then you came along, and…”

Liam turns to her, his expression thoughtful. “He was so guarded about you. So careful. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Maxwell be careful about anything in his life.”

“He’s careful about the important things,” Riley says softly.

“He used to spend hours talking you up to me, working on distractions so you and I could be alone together. He wanted you to succeed in all of this, that much was evident. And it was gradual, the way he stopped bringing you up, the shorter and shorter conversations, but of course I noticed. He wanted you to succeed… and then he wanted you.”

Liam sighs, the quietest moment of weakness slipping out. “I guess I didn’t realize as quickly that you wanted him too.”

“Yeah, you and me both.” Riley swings her legs under the bench, shivering slightly as a breeze brushes her bare shoulders. “Trust me, when I decided to come to a tiny foreign country to compete for a chance to be royalty, this is the last outcome I expected.”

Liam laughs. “It is rather ridiculous, I suppose.”

“Will you be alright, though?” Riley glances up at him, worried. “Madeleine told me there’s this law or something, that you have to get married to be on the throne?”

“Oh, that.” He waves a hand dismissively. “It doesn’t actually matter, I can change it after the coronation. It’s not as if we have any alternate governing body. This is an absolute monarchy; I can basically do whatever I want. Honestly, it’s a little strange we haven’t had some sort of democratic revolution yet.”

“Not on your first year agenda?”

“Not yet, no.” He smiles at her, and the sadness in his eyes has almost faded out. “Riley… I hope that you won’t find it awkward to be at court after this. I don’t have many friends, and although I know it may not have been my initial intention, I should hope to remain friends with you.”

“Oh, Liam,” Riley bumps her shoulder against his, “Of course. And I’m not just saying that because you’re about to be king of an absolute monarchy and can basically do whatever you want.”

He laughs again, standing up from the bench and brushing off his jacket before reaching out a hand to help her up. She’s only slightly unsteady on her heels until her feet catch purchase in the cobblestones, and she rests a hand on Liam’s arm to regain her balance.

His eyes meet hers, only inches away, and she feels that gentle tug in her chest again. In another life, maybe; in another timeline, she could be his queen.

But not this one.

They walk back to the palace in silence, Liam with his hands in his pockets, surveying the grounds. Now he is the one desperate not to meet her eyes, though she doesn’t blame him. Even though Liam tries to be the picture of strength, of nobility, he’s only human.

His lips brush across her cheek for the briefest moment when they part at the door. “You don’t have to stay,” he tells her, and she reaches out and squeezes his hand.

He’s swallowed up into the palace before she can think of anything real to say back. And she knows it’s not goodbye, not really – but it certainly is an ending.

She closes her eyes, breathing in deeply. The emotional turmoil of this night (of the last few days, really) has been weighing far too heavily on her soul. Liam’s blessing seems to have unlocked something in her, released the dam on her heart and flooded her body with feeling.

When she opens her eyes, she knows exactly what needs to be done.

The ballroom is still teeming with people, although many have begun edging towards the bar. A quick glance around the room doesn’t return any hits, and Riley frowns, wondering where to look next. As Liam mentioned, Maxwell is usually at the center of everything, and she can’t imagine what’s more central than this.

She catches Drake still pouting near the hors d’oeuvres, her skirts bunched in one hand as she tries her best to run towards him in those damn stiletto heels. He looks over at her when the frantic click of her shoes gets close, then crosses his arms and watches her approach, amused.

“You’re such a dick,” Riley says, bracing herself on the wall so she doesn’t trip. “It’s not easy to get around in these things, you know. You could’ve moved.”

“Why move when you’re already en route?”

“Dick.” She pauses to take in a deep breath, embarrassed at how winded her wobbly half-jog has made her. Maybe she needs to take Maxwell up on that offer to accompany his morning runs, although the thought of him seeing her like this is mortifying.

“Do you know where Maxwell went?” she asks, straightening up and rolling her shoulders back, hoping good posture will eliminate the residual humiliation. “He was in here last I saw him, but then I got, uh — otherwise detained.”

Drake sighs. “You’re a piece of work, Aldridge.”

“Oh, fuck you. I should’ve just asked Hana.” Riley looks out at the room, running a quick sweep before turning back to Drake. “Um, where’s Hana?”

“Seriously?”

“Look Drake, you’re not my ideal conversation partner right now either.”

He laughs sardonically, but there’s a hint of affection in his eyes. Drake can talk all the shit he wants, but she knows she’s his weak spot. Well, her and Liam. And whiskey.

“I haven’t been keeping tabs on Hana,” he says, “But Maxwell went looking for you a while ago, so he’s probably lost. Good luck with that.”

Riley makes a frustrated sound. “Do you have your phone? I should just call him.”

Drake reaches into his pocket and hands her something that may have possibly been a phone, once, but now resembles a sort of conceptual idea of a phone as designed by a seven-year-old fresh into the twenty-first century.

Riley stares at it. “Drake, what the fuck is this? What am I supposed to do with this? Oh my god, is that an antenna?”

“Yeah,” he frowns, seemingly unaware of her horror at this technological trashcan. “I don’t get great reception at the palace. It helps if you pull it out.”

Riley groans. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Okay, nevermind — how do you text someone on this thing? You’ve got Max’s number, right?”

“I don’t have texting.”

Riley blinks. “Sorry, repeat?”

He shrugs. “It’s a waste of money. I mean, why text someone when you can just talk to them?”

“What in god’s name­ —” Riley barely stifles an angry shriek. “Drake, you’re useless. Why the fuck didn’t I pick a dress with pockets? I’m going to go find him myself; take your stupid prehistoric waste of plastic.” She shoves the offending object back into his hands before turning her back and starting off towards the very door she had just entered.

Figures.

“Sometimes you can get service on the third-floor balcony?” Drake offers. Riley lets out a final disgusted sigh before quickening her pace. The sooner she is away from this dude, the better.

It’s a much overdue blessing that when she pushes open the ballroom door, she nearly runs into Maxwell. Just the sight of him is enough to make her stumble forward, her shoe catching the marble with an ill-placed step.

He grabs her shoulders to catch her, visibly flustered. “Riley?! Oh, thank god. Where’ve you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere, I even asked Bastien, but no one knew where you were, no one had even seen you in ages, and I thought —”

Riley takes his face in her hands and kisses him quiet, her lips curling in a smile against his, giddy and breathless and warm. She doesn’t pull back until she absolutely has to — until laughter spills out of her lungs and she can’t keep the grin away any longer.

She beams up at his bewilderment. “Oh Max, you have no idea how good it is to see you.”

“I — uh,” he blinks, mouth turning up in a confused smile. “Thanks? Or, um, you too?”

“Let’s go,” she says, brushing her thumb along his cheekbone, “Let’s just leave.”

“What?”

“Right now, let’s just —” she tilts her head towards the end of the hallway, “We can just run away, before anyone says anything.”

“Riley,” his brings a hand off her shoulder to curl his fingers gently around her wrist, just as her fingers thread into his hair. “What are you talking about?”

But the question is already answered as she brings her lips back to his, stepping closer and wrapping her free arm around his neck. His hands find her waist and she falls into him, clutching at his shirt as she opens her mouth against his, and suddenly everything is a blur of soft and hard and need and want and more than anything, hope.

She leans into his touch, eyes closed, head swirling with every wasted moment that has led to this. It’s like a dream: the sense of detachment she feels as they pull each other closer, the heady drunkenness of her hands as she struggles to find a hold on his shoulder. They’re breathing too loud, touching too soft, loving too hard.

She lets out a shuddery sigh and feels him rest his forehead against hers.

“Riley...” he says, voice soft. She can feel his eyelashes brush against her cheek, and her fingers dig in against his back, trying in vain to grasp at the strings of their ephemeral moment and keep it from drifting away.

They look at each other, inches apart.

“I want to run away with you,” she tells him, “Right now. I want to run away with you and I want you to say yes.”

“Where would we go?”

“I don’t know — anywhere. McDonalds, for all I care. I just want to say fuck it to all this courtly shit and nobility and be with you. Like, properly with you.”

“Properly?”

“Yeah.” She bites her lip. “You’re my best friend, you know?”

Maxwell takes her hands in his, and he’s looking at her so intensely she feels the blush pool hot in her cheeks. “You’re mine too.”

She dips her head, hoping to hide the burning spreading through her face. “I’m always yours.”

He smiles.

“What,” bellows a new voice, echoing down the hallway with footsteps far too angry for a ball, “in the crown’s name —”

They both turn, hands still clasped between them, and Riley whispers, “Fuck.”

Bertrand looks equal parts flabbergasted and livid, his expression twitching between the two as if he can’t quite make up his mind which is more applicable. He is walking much too quickly, the furrow in his brow getting more defined by the second, and Riley grips Maxwell’s hand tighter while also fearing slightly for his life.

“Did I just — did you just —” he comes to a halt in front of them, out of breath for more reasons than one and seemingly unable to string together a coherent sentence. “Have either of you ever — did you even once consider —”

“Down to run away whenever you are,” Maxwell says under his breath.

“Have the both of you lost your damn minds?!” Bertrand throws his hands up, eyes wild. “All of the work, all of the time and moneythat we have spent, ensuring that this occasion would be one of restorative glory for our household — and the entire time the two of you have been sneaking around… fraternizing?”

“How long have you been standing there?” Riley asks tentatively. “Because technically we were friendzoning each other at the end.”

He gives her a look so withering that she takes a hasty step behind Maxwell.

“You should both be grateful that I am the one who ran in on this abhorrent exchange instead of someone who might have let it slip to the Prince, or else this—” he gestures sharply at the door of the ballroom, “would be over.”

“Oh, um,” Riley says, “Well, about that.”

“Bertrand,” Maxwell starts, “Look, you have to give us a second to —”

Riley raises her voice. “Liam knows.”

“What?” Bertrand hisses, at the same time Maxwell looks down at her in shock, “You told him?”

“I didn’t tell him,” she answers Maxwell, meeting his eyes and trying to pretend it’s just the two of them. “Or, well, I did tell him, eventually. But he already knew. He said he guessed.”

“He guessed?” Bertrand is losing his mind. “How long has this been going on for? Has the entire palace been in on this ridiculous affair?!”

“It doesn’t matter.” Riley takes a deep breath, turning back to face him. “Liam knows, and he’s not going to marry me, and I’m not going to be queen.”

“There’s still time,” Bertrand says desperately, “Maybe if you talk to him, if you just explain the situation, perhaps he would be willing to overlook the indiscretion?”

“Oh my god, this is not an ‘indiscretion,’” Maxwell says, a sharpness in his tone that Riley hasn’t heard before. “You have to stop treating Riley like some tool to get back in the court’s good graces. It’s nobody’s fault but yours that things ended up this way, and you can’t expect anyone but yourself to clean up the mess you made.”

Bertrand scoffs. “What are you insinuating, that our current state of affairs is my fault?”

“Yes.” Maxwell’s resolve doesn’t waver, but Riley can feel his fingers tighten in hers. “And you know exactly what I’m talking about, unless you conveniently forgot the last girl you tried to send packing?”

Riley glances between the two of them, confused. Clearly there are a lot more secrets in this family than anticipated. Who needs to keep up with the Kardashians when you have the Cordonian nobility?

“This… this is absurd,” Bertrand sputters, clearly taken aback by Maxwell’s unexpected turn on the offensive. “Both of you are coming with me, and we’re going to fix this. We’ll set things straight; we have to. Perhaps Prince Liam misunderstood, he’ll be gracious, he —”

“I said, it doesn’t matter!” Riley shouts, startling the both of them. “Maxwell and I are in love, and we’re running away together, okay?!”

Bertrand blinks.

“But not like, far,” Maxwell interjects quietly, “I mean, we’ll be back.”

Bertrand rubs his temples, visibly distressed. “I absolutely cannot condone this. Will you not stop?”

Riley loops her arm in Maxwell’s, pulling him closer. “No?”

“You could at least be definitive.” Bertrand sighs. “Perhaps I should have expected this from both of you, since you seem entirely incapable of doing what I ask. Why not go full speed in the completely opposite direction?”

“Good idea,” Maxwell says, squeezing Riley’s hand. She looks up at him, raising an eyebrow, and he raises one back, and then before she even has a chance to squeeze his hand back in confirmation, they take off towards the other end of the hall.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Bertrand yells from behind them.

Riley can’t help the rush of giggles that break free from her at his voice, the sound punctuated by the echoes of her and Maxwell’s footfalls in the vast hallway. “Running away together!” she calls out in response, not looking back.

She almost trips as she steadies her hurried steps on her toes (these ridiculous shoes much louder and higher than they need to be) before the two of them barrel into a side door and stumble out onto the garden.

Riley is breathless, hopping on one foot as she undoes the clasp on her heels, kicking the shoes off with a deft shake of each ankle, then running out towards the lawn to grab them. Maxwell follows her, laughing too, and she holds up the shoes in one hand like a prize.

“We did it,” she grins, “We even beat Bertrand. That’s final boss type stuff right there.”

“Sorry about that,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “I didn’t mean to go off at him.”

Riley tilts her head, tracing a finger down his arm. “I don’t know, it was kinda hot.”

Maxwell laughs so hard at this that she smacks him with a shoe. “Shut up! It kinda was!”

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind next time I fight with my brother. Real romantic stuff right there.”

“You’re the worst,” Riley wrinkles her nose at him, but can’t quite suppress her smile. “What’s his deal anyway? I can’t possibly piss him off that much, right?”

“He’s not good at emotions. Or like, relationships. He’s got — um, girl trouble.”

Riley barks out a laugh. “With who?”

“You’d be surprised.”

He slings an arm around her shoulders, and she wraps hers around his back, shoes still dangling from her other hand, and the two of them set off across the damp grass of the palace lawn. They don’t really have a destination, now that the running is over, but that’s okay.

“Oh! I’ve been meaning to tell you all night,” Riley says, feet sinking into the earth with each step. “I think Olivia is into Drake.”

“Olivia? Olivia Nevrakis?”

“Yes, oh my god, right? She said the weirdest thing to me in the bathroom.”

“How weird?”

“Like, ‘I want to fuck Drake’ weird.”

“No.”

“I’m serious!”

“That’s simultaneously the worst and best thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re welcome.”

Riley feels her feet hit the cool cobblestones of the main walkway, the lights of the city edging up over the hedges beyond. She pauses, her heartbeat loud in her chest, a sounding drum for the bridge in their lopsided melody. Maxwell halts along with her, his eyes falling on hers in a question.

“Let’s steal a car,” she says.

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Well — I mean, first of all you’d have to find a car to steal, and then you’d have to know how to steal it, and then there’s the matter of the King’s Guard.” Maxwell is rubbing gentle circles against her shoulder blade with his thumb. Riley’s not even sure if he’s aware he’s doing it, but her heart swells. “So like, once you get past all of that stuff. Sure.”

“Doesn’t Liam have like a hundred cars or something? What’s the point of being royal if you don’t have a hundred cars?”

“What’s the point indeed.”

“And the second part — we can just google that.” She frowns. “Wait, shit. I don’t have my phone. Do you have yours?”

“Yeah, but service is notoriously terrible at the palace.”

“Again, what is the fucking point of being royal.”

“Pretty much nothing when you put it that way.”

She sighs, letting her head fall against his shoulder, shoes swinging from tired fingers. “What if we just call an Uber and go home?”

“What’s… Uber?”

Riley jerks her head back up, suddenly too exhausted for this. “No, do nottell me that Cordonia doesn’t have Uber. I will personally march back into that goddamn ballroom and scream in Liam’s face until he calls the fucking CEO himself and gets that shit set up, I’m not even kidding, I am dead serious—”

Maxwell is laughing, eyes alight with that all too familiar mischief, and she feels herself slump back against him. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

“Of course we have Uber,” He’s got his phone out in his free hand, the glow of the screen illuminating his smile. “You’re too easy, you know that?”

“I’m not easy,” Riley grumbles against his shoulder. He kisses the top of her head.

“Whatever you say.”

Their driver looks thoroughly unimpressed upon arrival, despite the resplendent glamour of the palace behind them. As Maxwell opens the door for Riley, the driver gives her a look through the open window.

“No shoes, no shirt, no service.”

Riley holds up her heels, now dangling from a single finger. “Shoes.” She nods towards Maxwell, who’s trying not to laugh at her. “Shirt.”

“Well, I’m charging extra if you make a mess,” the man grumbles, turning back towards the road. Riley drops down into the backseat in a huff.

“You know he’s like, basically a Duke?” she says loudly, leaning forward and making eye contact in the rear-view mirror. Maxwell slides in on his side and pulls her back, and she scrunches up her face, but leans in against his shoulder anyway. “What? You are.”

“Bertrand’s the Duke, not me. It’s much less impressive with the qualifier.” The driver has fully tuned them out at this point, and Riley closes her eyes, reaching down to fold Maxwell’s hand in hers as he shuts his door.

“Okay, but what if some terrible accident befalls Bertrand?”

“Title goes to his heir.”

Riley laughs. “What heir?”

“Um — I mean like, hypothetically, if he had a child with a secret fling who consequently went into hiding somewhere like, I don’t know, France or whatever. Then, y’know — heir.”

“Sounds juicy,” Riley murmurs. “We can only dream of Bertrand leading such a dramatic lifestyle.”

“Mhmm.” Maxwell sighs. “More like a nightmare.”

The further they get from the palace, the more Riley feels the tension of the coronation night slipping away from her. It’s a welcome relief, a lightness in her shoulders and in her heart that she hasn’t felt in weeks. Maxwell is warm against her side, and she can feel her eyelids getting heavier as the streetlights become fewer and far-between.

“Max?” she says quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For everything.”

He turns to look at her, and she blinks up at him from her spot nestled into his side, hoping he understands exactly what she means.

She’s half asleep when they finally pull in at the Beaumont estate, her shoes still loosely clutched in one hand as she emerges, bleary-eyed, from the car. Maxwell is a few steps away, fiddling with the payment on his phone, and she watches him illuminated in the glow of the screen.

He looks up finally, catching her staring. “What?”

“Nothing, I just…” she sucks in a deep breath, chewing on her bottom lip. “I’m glad this is happening. You and me.”

“Yeah,” He offers her his arm and she takes it, the two of them heading up the walkway to the entrance. “’We’re in love and we’re running away together,’ right?”

“That was — look, it was thematically appropriate phrasing at the time, okay?”

He slips his hand into hers, fingers falling into place like they were always meant to. “You would be a terrible poker player Riley.”

“Oh, shut up.”

The door opens before they’ve even made it up the stairs, one of the staff members emerging from behind with a demure bow. Maxwell pauses in a brief moment of panic, watching as her eyes flick between their clasped hands and Riley’s disheveled appearance.

“Lord Beaumont, Lady Aldridge,” she says carefully, “We didn’t expect you back this early. Everyone’s been following the coronation proceedings on television.” Her tone is pointed as she raises one deliberate eyebrow. “Very interesting waiting to see which of his suitors the prince will choose.”

Riley feels the heat in her face, but Maxwell is moving again, pulling her after him, taking the stairs two at a time.

“That’s great, that’s wonderful,” He’s talking even faster than he’s walking, striding past the judgmental gaze with each word. “Then you’ll know the whole thing was terribly stuffy. Huge bore. Not our kind of scene at all, old nobles and all that. Figured we would just get the highlights later, leave the ceremony to Bertrand.”

The woman shuts the entrance doors behind them, the air of propriety still heavy around her even as Maxwell practically drags Riley down the hallway and out of her presence. “My apologies sir, the Duke informed us that you wouldn’t be back for several days, otherwise I would have prepared —”

“Don’t worry about it!” Maxwell chimes back, already halfway through another doorway as Riley hurries after him. “I’ll let you know if I need anything!”

Riley kicks the door shut behind them, sinking down into a nearby couch and dropping her shoes on the side table. “Jesus,” she says dryly, “Suddenly I’m thankful for my common upbringing.”

“It’s not the worst thing she’s caught me doing, that’s for sure,” Maxwell runs a hand through his hair. “But given the circumstances… I guess it ranks.”

“Ooo, storytime?”

Maxwell drops down next to her on the couch, wrapping an arm around the back so his fingertips brush her shoulder. “Only if you’re lucky.”

She kisses his cheek. “I’m always lucky. What room is this?”

“It’s a parlor room,” He answers. “No one should come in here — at least, none of the staff.” He glances over, sheepish. “Or Drake.”

Riley laughs, but it turns into a yawn midway through. “You and your staff… sir.”

“Lady.”

She grins, reaching up to brush the hair off his forehead, fingers lingering along the side of his face. “Is she going to tell on us?”

“Oh, absolutely.” He catches her hand, kissing the inside of her wrist. “This is some prime gossip; I imagine she’s already sent out a news bulletin.”

“I can see the headline,” Riley yawns again, leaning into his side. “’Desperate Love Affair Exposed: King’s Former Suitor Caught Barefoot with Almost-Duke.’”

He makes a face. “Don’t focus on the barefoot, that makes it sound foot fetish-y.”

“Hmm, okay… ‘Waitress Gets Biggest Tip of Her Life’?”

“God, Riley, seriously?”

Riley closes her eyes, her laughter just barely audible. “S’like a bad porno.”

“There’s your headline,” Maxwell says.

She blinks one eye open, blearily looking up at him. “I can’t believe the one time we’re actually alone… and all I wanna do is sleep with you.”

A pause, then she adds, “Like, the sleeping kind.”

He laughs, eyes bright. “I gathered.”

“But the other kind too,” She sighs, tucking her feet up. “Gonna jump you in the morning, okay?”

“Mmhm,” he replies, resting his head on hers as she nestles in against him, “And we can get brunch.”

“Waffles.”

“Belgian waffles.”

“And mimosas.”

“And pineapple.”

In a moment of clarity, she sits up, touching his shoulder until he looks back at her, their faces a breath apart.

“Hey,” she says, voice suddenly low, “I don’t wanna make this weird, or weirder than it already is, but I just need you to know —“

He shakes his head almost imperceptibly. “You don’t have to say it. We have time. We’ll have so much time to say it.”

She lets out a breath of nervous air. “Do you think… do you think we’re gonna be good? I mean, with everything going on and all this stuff… do you think there’s a happy ending for us?”

He kisses her forehead, pulls her closer in to his side. “Why would you want an ending?”

Her heart swells with something deep and gentle, a touch not unlike the drowsy tug of sleep already pulling her from reality. And maybe that’s what this is — a break, a piece of time pulled separate from the rest. A little moment all their own.

She closes her eyes, already halfway to a dream.

#trr fanfic #playchoices fanfic #mc x maxwell #maxwell x mc #the royal romance #trr #my fic #ok now that those are out of the way #big shoutout to all who have said nice things about the parts before this #i love u guys ur real ones #like truly it does mean so much to me #i dont wanna clog peoples dashes with reblogs but i try to respond to all my asks and/or replies bc they genuinely fill me with such love #idk if ill write more for these two in this world #maybe with a very large timeskip #but for now its time for my driam fic so god knows when that will get finished at this rate #long post

[briteboy]

MORE ASKS I’VE BEEN IGNORING!!!!!!!

GET ‘EM WHILE THEY’RE HOT

P.S. ALL OF U WHO SENT ME THE CHAIN THINGY ILYSOMUCH 

Why is her step-douche such a foken piece of shit? omg i hate him

some mysteries are never meant to be explained tbh. why is he so ugly and evil? who wronged him? but also who cares he’s in jail forever now good riddance ugly

I know this is probably really bad, but after I saw the newest molly posts, I thought of that video where the little girl is yelling "MISS KEISHA, MISS KEISHA, oh my fukin gosh she fukin dead"

OMFGFD I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT THAT VIDEO WAS SO I JUST WATCHED IT AND I’M LAUGHIN

i don’t blame u i bet when it happens i’m gonna be like “u know she ded”

(To the previous anon) i agree with you so, so much! In Poland, these dumbass politicians are letting shooting pregnant bisons (?? Im not sure how they're called) become legal. Like BITCH WHAT. Can you imagine??? A fucking pregnant lil' cow getting shot????? I feel Molly's pain on an emotional level rn (sorry if this is too nsfw, just needed to get that outta my system...)

i think this was in response to someone saying that hurting pregnant women is one of the worst crimes but um WTF shooting animals at all makes me itchy but pregnant ones..............nah that’s......nah

it’s ok get it outta ur system i’m here 4 u

the first thing I check in the morning is your account.... you have me whipped! ;|

OMG WHA LMAO REALLY that’s wild. i feel like i’m the only one who looks at my page which is dumb but like idk i still feel like a little kid that no one cares about lmao. but then you guys exist and amaze me with your responsiveness every day and i just ;____________; ily all

hi Sunny. first of all i'm gonna say i love your story and your editing style so much! your blog is goals like literally. i need an advice if you don't mind. you always find such amazing angles for your pictures while mine are so boring. any tips or tricks you can share?

HI thank you so much ;-; sooooo i’ve been thinking about this question the past couple of times i went in game, trying to figure out how to describe how i take pictures. for one thing i live in tab mode lmao. meaning you press the tab button on your keyboard to go into camera mode and get all these sexy angles and super zoom and stufffff. i almost always zoom in super far idk why. so there’s one tip. i honestly just play around with going up and down with the q and e keys (i think?) until i find angles i like. i take a lottttt of pictures with so many different angles just so i have a lot to choose from. basically i try to focus on different things in each picture in order to get a mix of the most diverse and dynamic shots possible. you just need to experiment and get creative. i know that’s the most vague advice ever but really just try a new angle that you’ve never considered before and i bet you’ll get cool results. an interesting setting is also the biggest factor, because certain objects and their placements will give you interesting results. 

i honestly want to print out your reaction pic to that one post and just hang it on my wall, put it in my heart locket necklace, stamp it on people's faces, start an email thread with it. i love it.

an add on to the last ask i sent about your reaction pic. i've been looking at it religiously since it was posted, and i dont regret a minute of it. LMAO I'LL STOP NOW.

SAKJDLJKGKSDAF STOPPPP LMAOOO i looked so ugly but that was my pure unadulterated reaction to that question and i trust you all to not judge my ugliness and instead share this reaction with me. i’m glad u liked it that much, i just printed it out and i’m cutting it into a small heart to put inside ur locket ok

everytime i hear cigarette daydreams by cage the elephant i think of a serious case of the novembers like its so fitting and then i get all emo when i listen to it lmao rip

OMMMMGGGGGGG YESSSSS how have i never made that connection before honestly. cage the elephant is one of my faves and i’ve seen them perform twice actually!! i’m watching the music vid for that song now and even that reminds me of my story ;-; i cry

thank you for sending this, and also i cry @ the fact that you used the actual title *dies* now this song is gonna make me emo til the end of time thx

i might sound like some crazy stalker fan but i just want to say you are so freakin awesome and nice and funny and cute and (i can go on forever) so caring! i love your blog so much and all the hard work and care you put into all your posts and followers. thanks for making my day and making me smile so much. you have no clue how much i look forward to seeing your posts and your hilarious hashtags and answers from asks and AMAZING story posts. im sorry i just wanted to let you know ur awesome ily

OFMG WHAT!!!!!! I AM ONLY AN EEL!!!!!! but no you don’t sound like a crazy stalker, i actually love this, you’re too sweet, thank you ;-; i’m just blushin so much reading this omg. YOU EVEN LIKE MY TAGS WOW that’s true love. ily ;-; <333

how do you get your sims' facial expressions to line up with your scenes? I feel like my sims' faces are never right :(

tbh i just use a lot of the same neutral poses...my go-to’s are @helgatisha‘s poses lol. they’re the easiest to work with when i do just plain talking scenes, and often i tweak my sims’ eyebrows and mouths with the liquify tool if i want them to look a bit more concerned, sad, mad, happy, etc., it works like a charm!! i also tend to play around with angles, you’d be surprised how much a different angle can enhance a scene.

Hey smol bean, I'm sent you an ask and now I feel bad that it probably made you feel anxious because you didn't answer it. It was the one about you not liking my posts, I have anxiety too so I'm sorry If I made you feel sad. I think I'm just looking for validation from people I look upto you get me? Anyway sorry again, don't worry about it! Love you!

hiya bb, i know you saw my answer to your original post (and i’m sorry it got some negative attention, i didn’t mean for that to happen by any means) anyway don’t sweat it, and i really appreciate this follow-up message. you didn’t make me feel sad, i just wanna know what i can do. it’s just a hard question y’know. i understand what you mean, i think everyone wants validation to some degree. tbh you can just come off anon and message me, i promise it’s not as nerve-wracking as it seems! ily

How did you make Santi's tattoos? I want some like that for my Sims but idk how to do it

boop

I HAVE A FEELING THAT MOLLY IS GOING TO DIE DURING THE BIRTH OF THE BEAN OR IT HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH HER STEPFATHER FINDING OUT ABOUT THE BEAN

WELP U WERE RIGHT ABOUT ONE THING

how did you make your characters page on your blog like that?

uoohhh like what?? i used this theme (monolog) if that’s what you mean aheh. here’s a guide on how to use custom page themes

okay so THIS IS MY THEORY: they might keep the baby and molly might actually carry it to full term, but then the kid dies in childbirth and either molly also dies or maybe kills herself or gets killed later? or maybe she's still alive but just won't speak to santi anymore cause she like can't look him in the eye after all of that or idk?? since ppl were sending theories i wanted to add mine lmao. another possible theory is that the stepdad finds out and kills her but thats TOO DARK omg

TOO DARK U SAY...WELL!!! it’s not AS dark as you guessed but only marginally

If Molly turns out to be alive and raising their kid alone (though from what I'm seeing in response to most questions I think that may not be the route) am I allowed to slap Santi (unless Molly didn't give him the option to help) because raising a child alone is not easy I've watched my mom do it for years.

YEAH i would give you permission to slap him lmao he would be a grade A piece o’ shit if that were the case. i would never ever write that tho because santi does own up to his actions if they’re that detrimental. his altruistic nature, no matter how backwards, would never allow him to do that.

There will be complication with the abortion so she will not be able to carry a baby anymore and she's going to kill herself OR her step dad is going to find out and he'll beat her to death. And in both situation Santi his blaming himself because he wasn't there at the right time... Okay I really really hope I'm wrong now !

I don't even follow your story very closely but every time I see your posts my heart hurts.

OMFG...that’s how u know the pain is real

but like wow my stuff is really so visceral that even my apathetic followers can feel the hurt...that’s real...that’s real my guy

omg!! you should 100% play or at least watch a playthrough of life is strange! legit the best game ever made, its so beautiful. the storyline kills you a thousand times over (much like your beautiful story) <3333

yaaaa i’ve heard lots of good things about it!! my bf played it actually, maybe he’ll revisit it again someday and i’ll watch him do it (i’m only a fan of video games if i can watch them like a movie lmao) thank you btw <3

I am shook and I worship you and your story and you are amazing WOW BYE

WORSHIP LMAO WHAT!!! PLS I AM UNDESERVING...ily tho don’t worship false gods

Do you let Molly and the younger versions of your characters frolic around your main save or do they have a separate one?

UM YES LMAO because i didn’t even know you could have separate saves until after i started the flashbacks lmao i’m...a noob. i don’t want separate saves anyway because 1) it’s too much of a hassle switching back and forth and 2) it gets too confusing for me and i’d be afraid of overwriting one save with another and NOPE too much anxiety for that soooo yeah there’s three santis in my game: child, teen and adult lmfao (fun fact: teen santi’s name is literally just Lil Santi)

I made it to my senior year with 6 A's and 1 B ... Be proud of me too? 😂 Lmao I told this to people and some of them were just like .. okay cool?! LMAO it's so funny but also kinda sad

I AM PROUD OF YOU TOO!!!!!!!!! my smart childrens

“okay cool” UM PLEASE that’s a feat...at my school if you got an A in a class in senior year you were allowed to be exempt from the final. so yeah that rules. ily

#nonsims #saviorhide #anonymous #THEY ARE DONE #FINALLY #EXCEPT WCIFS LOL DON'T...don't hate me #i try