#anguishexposed

[fondofbirds-moved-blog]

@anguishexposed

braveryhoe sent a post: ❛  so  man...

braveryhoe: john voice lots of gays under one roof the show

fondofbirds: om g

fondofbirds: pERFECT

braveryhoe: kisses fingers like an italian chef

braveryhoe: perfection

[veterantreasurer]

My Dearest Betsey, 

“I propose you a set of new questions my lovely girl; but though they are asked with an air of levity, they merit a very serious consideration, for on their being resolved in the affirmative stripped of all the colorings of a fond imagination our happiness may absolutely depend. I have not concealed my circumstances from my Betsey; they are far from splendid; they may possibly even be worse than I expect, for every day brings me fresh proof of the knavery of those to whom my little affairs are entrusted.”

                                          Yours forever,

                                                                           A. Hamilton

                        Elizabeth Schuyler & Alexander Hamilton

[veterantreasurer]

“hold me in your arms”

The words had caught him by surprise, his attention flitting from the novel held in his lap, the pages filled with knowledge he was thirsty to obtain. However, the beckoning call of his lover outrang the siren song of work. It was a rarity he would obey such, would find reason to leave his headspace for another. It was a trait of his he knew Eliza had grown accustomed to, perhaps even grown to understand. He had no qualms of her lingering at his side, rather enjoying the soft sounds she made while flitting in his space. 

Fingers deftly placed a ribbon between the pages and gave the spine rest. He placed the book upon a wooden stand they kept at their bedside and wordlessly moved beside his wife. His arms moved automatically, wrapping around her until she was pressed to his chest. His nose found purchase in the soft dark strands of her hair, clipped loosely about her face in an eloquence he had not seen another achieve. Even the most skilled hairdressers were inadequate at creating such gentle waves, Alexander was sure of it. 

“What is it my love?” The words fell from his lips with a soft grapple of worry, concern causing the lines of his brow to crease, at first Alexander had felt disdain for the signs of age. But had grown to find them proper fixtures of his features as time passed further, as grief turned the delicate auburn of his hair silver. 

[veterantreasurer]

@anguishexposed

A soft groan left his throat, as he rolled over, the sheets felt like insulation as they stuck to his body like wet clothing. Perhaps they were clinging to him with sweat he wasn’t sure. Wasn’t sure how long he had been in the cocoon that now suffocated him. His eyes were open but his vision was bleary edging with shadow. He could hardly move, each limb felt as if they were tied down by weights. “Eliza.” The word left his lips, soft and hardly more than a breath as he looked up, searching for her in the dimly lit room. 

[veterantreasurer]

@anguishexposed continued from this

There is no easy manner to approach the world that stands before them. The fault lines of their legacy that he’d worked hard to weave into existence, fingers bleed from where it gripped needle, where he sewed himself into the fabric of destiny. But destiny bled away from the hole in his son’s body, bled into the hole that they buried him in three days later.  Silence. It had fallen over him like a quilt, a man who had always been described to be loud, boisterous in his voice and commanding in presence had shrunk. No longer knowledgeable of how to fill the iron form he’d constructed in the last four decades. He stumbles like a child, fawn unaware of how to navigate the storm of his emotions. Hands grip ropes in attempt to man the sails, but it seems the rope is a noose prepared to hang him.  He puts the children to bed, going through the motions as a machine did, the tap tap tap of the needle creating secret code he no longer could decipher. He wonders when the hieroglyphics of his mind would form into a language he knew, dead or alive, whether it be Latin, French, Creole, Anything. Anything but this silence that came from not knowing how to communicate. Like a baby, like a madman with no language.  WORDS were all that Alexander had ever had, and without them how was he to function? Without Philip.  He stands by her side, had joined her, walked from the porch, viewed her porcelain smile, growing more and more akin to the one he knew so well. No longer the mocking knock off that she had been sporting for months now. The swell of her belly causes a familiar swell in his chest, and Alexander reaches out, fingers delicately resting on the curves of her waist, never once able to harm such a beautiful woman, such a kind and forgiving woman that he could never deserve for the rest of his days. Not when everything that had harmed them had been his doing. His undoing. He looks out to the edge of the property, the road vacant passed the line of their lawn, passed the garden he tended regularly, their smallest at his side digging up with dented shovels, holding pill bugs and laughing at the flutter of butterfly wings.  All the while his dearest angel lay rotting away.  All the while their son laying deep beneath the earth as unreachable as their breathing eldest.  Her response to his words has him nodding, agreeal on his tongue, yet he couldn’t find the words. It happened more than he knew how to cope with now. Head hangs down between shoulders, red and silver strands falling from where he’s refused to tie it back.  “Will you be joining me in our bed tonight, my Betsey?” 

[storyneverdie-blog]

@anguishexposed ( x )

                   eliza’s attention piques with her sister’s sudden outburst , her gaze leaping to look back at the girl . she can’t deny the smirk that rises to her amused lips , though her sympathy was not entirely absent .   ❛ it isn’t flattering to complain . ❜   she quirks a sharpened brow , though her smirk softens into a somber smile .   ❛ i wouldn’t mind lending a hand . what have you left to do ? ❜

GRATEFUL FOR  Eliza’s silent agreement to help, a smirk blooms on animated features.  ❝  Not much,  ❞  Peggy answers.  ❝  Some washing mostly. I need to finish before dark though.  ❞  In her efforts to look neutral, she appears  too  concentrated as she picks up a towel. She’s not a skilled liar; and in this instance, a part of her perhaps  wants  Eliza to know where she’s going. A secret just between the two of them. Angelica and Eliza are so close, sometimes Peggy’s certain they have a whole relationship she understands nothing of.

[veterantreasurer]

anguishexposed replied to your post: ❝ he must have been so scared. ❞

ur right i aM CRYING

SAME THO OKAY I LIED I AM CRYING