#melissa!

[ofhouseusher]

laura del rey

This pics are so me coded fr

[oh-mydarling]

me, listening to back to the basics on repeat for five days <3

YOU ARE SO ICONIC FOR FINDING IT AND SHARING IT 💘💘💘🤭🤭🤭🤭

[lawful-good-lesbian]

IS THAT ENOUGH OF A SURPRISE??

i did not turn bright red in the middle of this taco bell

[dcbutinamrev]

“Look me in the eyes and repeat what you just said.” 👀👀

Ask and ye shall recieve!

~~~

Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton sits down at the aide-de-camp office with a grunt. He tries to remain his focus on his tasks at hand, completeing more corrospondences for General Washington, shuffling through Lafayette's rough drafts and occasionally checking any spelling errors as the Frenchman is still learning the American language. But he couldn't help but feel his eyes tick up towards the narrowed staircase a few feet behind him. His chest fills with fire, ready to burst.

Hamilton forces his eyes back down towards his papers in hand, yanking the quill near the new aide-de-camp, James McHenry, who was recently added to Washington's staff not long ago. A few days ago perhaps and Hamilton must admit it is a surprise, indeed, that he's caught up with the routine quite quickly. As quick as Laurens.

Hamilton scowls and shivers at the thought of Laurens, his words--hurtful words--echoes through his mind as he clutches onto the quill tightly. He presses his lips together and bites his tongue behind clenched teeth in hopes it would hold back the low growl cojming from the back of his throat. His fingers curl tighter around the stem of the quill as the tip scratches Washington's name near the bottom of the corrospondence.

"Hamilton?" a voice says, snapping him out of his thought. A Southern voice, might he add. It's not as distinct as Laurens' but Hamilton can hear a twinge of the South in the man's voice.

He ticks his eyes towards his peripheral, his brows furrowing together to form a crease in his forehead and swallows hard when he sees Richard Kidder Meade seated beside him with a worried expression upon his face and a hand clamped onto the Caribbean's shoulder. Hamilton relaxes at Meade's touch but still is somewhat tense.

"Kidder..." Hamilton sighs as he runs a hand through his dark red hair and puffs out a breath, his freckled cheeks puffing out as he does so.

Meade smiles softly as he pulls the wooden chair beside him out and slides on down next to him. He folds both arms over his chest and leans against the edge of the table with his head tilted to one shoulder. He presses his lips together, pondering what to say next before finally clearing his throat and leaning back, somewhat relaxed.

"Are you alright, my Little Lion?" Meade says affectionally. In all honesty, Hamilton loves it when his dear friends call him their little lion, especially by Laurens.

Hamilton sighs audibly through his nose, setting his quill down after signing his corrospondence. He shakes his head. "No. I...well...perhaps...."

"Perhaps?"

"Yes...it's just..." Hamilton shakes his head, glancing over his shoulder towards the stairs where Laurens still remains in the bedroom where they shared their last argument. A childish argument, Hamilton thinks. One of Betsey and one of his roles as a soldier and him insisiting I be locked up here like a woman.

"Alexander?" Meade tries again.

Hamilton sighs, finally explaining, "It's Laurens." A pause. Hamilton glances up at Meade, expecting him to question him but thankfully he doesn't. Hamilton continues. "He...he...he and I...we had argument..."

"Oh..." Meade says softly. Hamilton nods.

"Yes." A pause. "I just don't understand him, Kidder. Can't he see how much I care for him? As much as I care for her? As much..."

"Her?" Meade prompts, quirking an eyebrow, though he has a feeling he knows who the "her" is.

"Betsey," Hamilton says, taking a small sip of his coffee before setting it back down. A loopy grin on his face as he sees his beloved newly wedded wife before his eyes, her dark eyes on his, entrancing and almost like a bottomless pit, her dark hair--dark as chocolate--loose around her shoulders. Her pale blue dress down to her waist... "My wife..."

"Ah," Meade says, pating Hamilton's arm. "I'm sure he understands. He knows how much you care for him."

"Yes, but..." Hamilton sighs. "It's..." He glances back up at the stairs, his expression of what was once anger now disappiated into softness. "It's complicated, Kidder, between us." A short pause. "You wouldn't understand."

"I know," Meade says. Hamilton whips his head over his shoulder towards Meade with surprise, his face paling and his blood goes cold. Meade chuckles, causing Hamilton to frown with confusion and tilt his head to one shoulder. Meade, however, continues chuckling and and pats the redhead's shoulder. "I know. Oh, trust me, Alexander, I know. I know love when I see it."

Hamilton swallows but Meade only returns the expression with high, arched eyebrows. Hamilton glances back up at the stairs and instantly scoots his chair back, his chest squeezing as though a hand were clamped around his lungs.

Perhaps there was one.

Hamilton fumbles over the flaps of his buff blue Continental coat as he stumbles his way up the stairs towards his and Laurens' shared bedroom. He slams the door open rather ungentlemanly and marches two steps forward before slamming it shut behind him. He sees Laurens plopped down at the desk where Hamilton would usually work into the late night hours if he had extra work to finish, scribbling something onto paper.

"Stop," Hamilton says, catching his breath, breathing sharply in and out.

Laurens surprising stops without a protest, the tip of his quill hovering above the parchment. Laurens doesn't say anything.

Of course, he doesn't.

He's waiting for an answer. He's wanting Hamilton to answer.

"Stop it, John," Hamilton huffs.

Laurens lowers the quill scarily slowly yet gently as well and cranes his neck of his shoulder to glance at Hamilton before him, both eyebrows high and a small smirk of amusement? on his face.

"Oh? And why should I, Hamilton?" Laurens says. "You've made your point very clear."

As soon as Laurens turns around in his chair, Hamilton rushes forward and instantly dropping down to his knees and grasping both of Laurens's hands in his. Laurens freezes, his eyes narrowed at the paper before him and breathes in slowly, his breath hitched at his throat and holds it in place.

"Enough of this, John," Hamilton whispers, reaching out to tuck back a loose stray honey colored hair behind his ear. "You know where my heart lies."

"And it lies with that woman!" Laurens hisses, barks loud enough to be mistaken as a dog.

Hamilton flinches but tries to remain calm and steady. He never takes his eyes off his beloved Laurens' even though Laurens may take his eyes off of Hamilton himself, avoiding his gaze entierly. Hamilton shakes his head.

"No," he says, catching Laurens' attention. "It lies with you as well."

Laurens opens his mouth to protest but Hamilton promptly cuts him off.

"What is wrong with me loving another as much as I love you?" Hamilton whispers.

"That's not how relationships work, Alexander. You've never been in a relationship with anyone besides me. Haven't you? You don't know what heartbreak is like."

Hamilton feels his lips twist into a tight scowl and scoots foward onto his knees so he's in between Laurens' legs, his hands still clutched into his. He gives it a firm shake as he snarls, his eyes eyes twitching, "Look me in the eyes and repeat to me what you've just said."

Silence.

"I have experienced heartbreak throughout my childhood, John," Hamilton explains in a quick, hushed voice. Almost like a snake. "My father abandoned me when I was ten. My mother died because of an illness the doctors couldn't treat while I survived. My cousin committed suicide not long after my brother and I moved in with him. My brother, the only person I had left, was seperated from me. A hurricane destroyed my fucking home. Demolished it. Burned it to ashes! Killed thousands and thousands of people...innocent people...John."

A pause.

"So don't you dare tell me what heartbreak is like, I know what heartbreak is like."

"That's besides the point," Laurens growls. "That's different. I'm not talking about that. If you would just stop blabbering and just simply listen."

Hamilton growls low, yanking his hands off of Laurens and standing upright, placing his hands on his hips now. "Well then perhaps you should do the same."

Laurens pushes himself up from the chair and towers over Hamilton, so Hamilton has to shrink slightly. Laurens folds his arms over his chest.

"You did the exact same thing he did," Laurens growls as he shakes his head, blinking his eyes. His voice cracks, causing a spear to go through Hamilton's heart. "Claimed you loved me. Say that you loved me. And I thought you were mine, you said you were mine! I...I wanted..."

"And you are!" Hamilton whimpers, cupping both of Laurens' stubbled cheeks in his palms. He searches the blonde's face, his eyes ticking back and forth quickly. "You are, John! You are mine and you always will! I love you...so much...just as much as I love Betsey!"

"No!" Laurens snaps. "You stated yourself there was no one you loved but her!"

"I had to say that, John! I had too!" Hamilton cries. "We were surrounded by the others! You know..." Hamilton pinches the bridge of his nose and huffs out a breath, trying to calm himself. "John...I love you..."

"No," Laurens says instantly. Hamilton sniffs and glances back up at him. Laurens rests a strong hand onto Hamilton's freckled cheek, the pad of his thumb wiping away a stray tear Hamilton didn't realize had escaped. Laurens smiles, though the anger and annoyance is still clear in his bright blue eyes, and leans down to press a kiss to the edge of Hamilton's mouth, his nose nudging against his cheek. "You should be married." Hamilton lets his eyes flutter shut as Laurens pecks his earlobe and whispers, "For both of our sakes."

"Jack--" Hamilton begins but Laurens cuts him off with a sudden kiss.

Hamilton hisses sharply through his nose, taken aback and completely off-guard. He lets his eyes slip closed and slowly lifts both hands up to squish Laurens' cheeks together while Laurens lets his hand slide down Hamilton's sides and grip his wrist, pulling him close so his chest nearly touches the blonde's.

Laurens tilts his head, trying to find a perfect angle, letting his lips trail down the side of Hamilton's neck and up his jaw. Hamilton grips Laurens shoulders to keep himself steady as he tilts his head to the side to allow Laurens room. Laurens, however, gets a little greedy, needy and slams Hamilton against the closed bedroom door, pinning his arms to the side as he kisses the redhead's lips, his knee nudging agianst Hamilton's inner thigh, causing Hamilton gasp sharply with surprise. Laurens grins with triumph, the corners of his lips quirking up.

"John..." Hamilton gasps against Laurens' rough, yet soft rosy pink lips. "John!"

"My apologies," Laurens sighs as he pulls back, pressing his forehead against Hamilton's. "Do not leave me, my dear boy."

Hamilton hums, a small smile on his face, slowly opening those breathtaking deep blue eyes. Laurens' heart flutters and his breath hitches in his throat when he sees flecks of violet in those deep ocean blue irises.

"I won't leave you," Hamilton promises. He pauses, furrowing his brows in thought as he scratches Laurens' light stubble with his fingers. "But..." Laurens raises both eyebrows, gesturing him to continue. "You have to promise me not to leave me as well."

Laurens breathes in sharply. A curt nod.

"I promise."

That will be a lie.

[vive-la-revolution]

💙

dumbass magnet <3 (affectionate)

[opossum-the-burr]

🐳

nope. your too friendly :)

[yeehawlw]