Alexander was draped over our bed, the hair in his ponytail just touching the floor. He gave me a smile before groaning. “I’m bored!”
I chuckled. It was a few hours later and we’d just finished up our work—well, Alexander had; Washington seemed to have given me a little less work than anyone else, something that he’d never done before. Berry had yet to return even though he’d been out for hours and it left a sickening pit in my stomach, but I was able to hide it from my lover and the other aides-de-camp.
“Well, go ask His Excellency if he has any more work for you—that’ll cure your boredom.”
He only groaned again, and I couldn’t help but allow a smirk to crawl up my lips. “But I wanted to spend this time with you, not my work!” He made a face in displeasure, something that made a chuckle escape my mouth. “For the first time in my life, I feel like I don’t want to work.”
I snorted before throwing my hands up in the air, feigning shock. “’Tis a miracle, sir, it truly is! Alexander Hamilton—yes, Alexander Hamilton—has decided he does not want to work!” I pretended to faint into his lap. “The world is crumbling apart, my dear sir. Oh, whatever will we do?”
My lover let out a laugh—one that was just like a song, as it always did. I revelled in the sound until he pushed me off of his lap so he could sit upright. I then put my head back in its place once he was situated and snuggled into his chest. He let out a little aw sound before slowly running his fingers through my dirty blond locks. I only laughed. “Dear boy, you’re petting my hair.”
He made a face at me, as if questioning why I was asking such of him. “And?”
“Why the Hell would you do that? I’m a human, not an animal; I do not enjoy pets as they do.”
Alexander gave out a sad sigh. “My mother used to do that with me whenever I got anxious after a nightmare—especially ones about my father. She did it until the day she died, and I remember the morning of her demise how she barely had enough energy to as much as touch my hair.”
I bit my lip hard—so hard that I could taste blood in my mouth—wishing I hadn’t said that. I felt guilty for making him think of such things, knowing how he wished to forget them. Then again, I didn’t know it would bring back memories of his deceased mother, but I still regretted my words nonetheless.
My lover sighed again. “I’m sorry to dampen the mood, John, I truly am, but…” He let out a frustrated noise, trying to put together some type of sentence. It was weird to see him like that—the man, so composed in his words, stumbling over what to say of a topic he had lived through—a topic he knew as well as the back of his hand. It reminded me of our conversation after Monmouth, how he’d asked me if I regretted us. The way he’d spoken made it clear he knew not what words would come out of his mouth next, just that something would. He remained silent like that time; no sound was made beside our breathing. Then: “It’s been a while since her death, I know, but she still comes back to haunt me—in my dreams, in my waking hours, in my head—whispering, telling me I’m no good, because of this.” He motioned between us with his hand. “That she’d never love me because of this.”
Alexander chuckled, but I saw nothing funny about that. Then—“And she’s saying she hasn’t done anything wrong. She was the one who had to have a child with a man she hadn’t married and ruined my childhood.”
Gently, I placed my hand on the immigrant’s shoulder. “Alexander… please, do not speak of such things. After all, if it weren’t for her, then you wouldn’t be alive right now. You wouldn’t be sitting right here, with my head on your lap.”
Still, despite my warnings, he continued. “She just had to die right next to me. No—she just had to die around me, to force me to wake up to a dead corpse wrapped around my body. She just had to leave us before that wretched hurricane—she just had to not be there while I desperately searched for my brother’s body after the whole ordeal.”
I couldn’t take listening to him say such things anymore and I sat up, looking at him. “Alex, please, do stop. Your mother would not like it if she heard all of the vile things you’re speaking of her.”
Alexander barked a laugh. “My mother is dead, John—she cannot touch me now,” he retorted.
“As is mine, Alexander Hamilton, but you do not hear me spewing curses for her, now do you?”
“At least your mother cared for you. Mine didn’t give a fuck.” Alexander kept his gaze away from mine, his upper lip curling angrily. “She didn’t care that James and I were getting hurt by the neighboring children because of what she had done; she didn’t care when I had trouble making friends. She just brushed it off as if it were some tiny issue, because, after all, it didn’t affect her in any way, shape, or form.”
I grabbed his hand with mine, my other one resting on his cheek, turning his head so that he was looking at me. “Never speak of your mother that way, Alexander—never again. It wasn’t her fault, and she was working hard to support you and your brother to the best of my remembrance.”
Alexander tried to rip his hand from my grasp but to no avail. He only sighed. “She was the one who started all of my childhood trauma. She was the one who made me slip under into the darkness of depression; she was one that made my anxiety come back, bigger and badder than ever.” He let out a frustrated growl. “She’s the one that made me think of ending myself—and I tried. At eighteen years old I tried to commit suicide, John—because of her, because of the mental state she’d left me in. I don’t think she deserves any type of love from me.”
“Oh, Alexander.” I wrapped my arms around him, letting him cry into the front of my waistcoat. “Shhh… it’s all right.”
“I never keep friends.” He spoke so suddenly that I flinched. But I wasn’t sure why he was telling me this now; he’d mentioned it multiple times before. “They always come and go, too good to be true—just like everything else in my life. And I’m afraid that’s going to happen to you—that you’ll be snatched away from me just when I need you most. Because that’s what always happens with me.”
“No, Alexander, that will not happen. Shhh…” He buried his head more into my chest and I rested my hand in his hair, showing him I was there. Still, I needed to tell him the truth. That—“As much as I hate it, one day we’ll be separated from each other. That’s just what ends up happening. But I’ll tell you this: even if I’m not there physically, I’m here mentally.” I lightly pulled his head out of my chest so that he was sitting in front of me. I poked his chest with my finger as I said, “I’m here. In your heart. And I’ll always be there for you, through thick and thin, no matter what happens in our lives. We’ll be all right, and we’ll keep up a correspondence of some sort, and we’ll continue just as we always have.”
With that only more tears flowed from Alexander’s eyes, and he wiped them away angrily, hoping that I hadn’t seen them, but I had and said nothing. “T—That’s what Mother had said. And look where she is now.” He let out a frustrated noise almost like a feral animal. “Five feet under the ground.”
“Alexander, stop it. Quit talking of her like that. You know she tried her hardest to provide for you two, especially after your father...” I didn’t finish the sentence—it wouldn’t do any good to remind Alexander what had happened—and sighed. “And I really meant what I said.”
He nodded against my chest, and slowly, my lover pulled his head out. “I just wish I’d be able to hold your hand out in the open—to be able to embrace you and kiss you and tell you how much I love you without any one killing us. I wish I’d be able to show my dream-Mother that she was wrong.”
“But she is wrong, even if you cannot openly prove it to her. You’ll—no, we’ll—always know it in our hearts.”
Alexander nodded, pressing his forehead to mine. He kept his eyes down for a moment before they met mine, and the sight I was welcomed with was a sea of violet, so pretty and wild, so free from sadness and gloom. At least a part of him was.
“Yes, we’ll always know.” He pecked my lips quickly and smiled against them. I couldn’t help but smile back. It felt amazing to comfort Alexander, to show him that everything will be okay no matter what. Maybe I could even convince myself.