"Over a Book" [MODERN HAMLIZA]

"Who lives?" - Chapter 25

a/n; ill be honest i forget how i type the texts each time i make a chapter sorry for the inconsistency lmaoo

"Alexander?" Eliza breathed under her breath, feeling tears prick her eyes. She stared at the unkempt man, sat in front of her, a book slanted in his familiar and scarred hands - his face painted with bruises and blood.

He barely glanced up.

Eliza took a shaking inhale and sat down across the table from him.

They were back in the familiar library, across the street from where Eliza lived. Where they first met. She crossed her legs to stop them from bouncing anxiously, fiddling with her fingers. "Happy birthday," She murmured.

He didn't respond.

She was about to reach into her bag, for the gift that she got him, when he suddenly closed the book with a quiet snap and set it down on the table. He slid it toward her. Puzzled, she leant up again, and grasped the spine. She flipped it over to read the cover name.

Ma Phénix.

Blazing shock rocked her body; a loud gasp escaping her lips before she could stop it. She dropped the book as though it were as cold as ice, her hands trembling over the cover. Rushes of memories came flooding back to her, filling her mind till it ached. She pressed her fingers to her forehead, feelings tears choke her throat, taking ahold of her vocal chords and squeezing them until all noise she could make were low pants.

Her first meeting with Alexander, the sly smirk that he gave her, that first party where he tackled Jefferson, when he sat at her bedside, when he gave her his hoodie, the other party with Theo, her fighting that woman for him, them dancing in the moonlight, him finally opening up about his past, that one walk in the park, the constant talks about Angelica and apologies, Jefferson visiting Laf's house to torment her, that Christmas confession, their first kiss...

Eliza placed her fingertips gingerly over her own lips, ghosting her nails over the skin, as though remembering how it felt.

She glanced back up from the cover at Alexander, tears swimming in her tawny eyes, unable to read the expression solemnly placed on Alexander's face. Her tears began to roll down her cheeks silently, unable to rip her gaze away from the man she once - and still - loved.

Without taking her eyes off of him, she reached into her bag and slid the present she was going to give him over the table. He looked down and picked it up.

It was the original drawing of him, the first one she'd sketched.

She'd retrieved it from his wall one night while staying over at Laf's for Peggy, when he wasn't around. She hadn't been comfortable with it being there at the time, but now ...

A small, shaking inhale came from Alexander, and she watched him as he rose unsteady hands to his face, burying his eyes in his scarred, calloused palms. She could see his shoulders trembling with each silent, wracking sob.

Eliza frowned, rising herself from her chair. She walked over to Alexander and crouched beside him, lifting his hands away from his face. There had still been no words spoken between them, yet it was as though a million had been said. They made eye contact, each as teary as the other.

She stood and sat on his knee, his hands releasing from her clasp and easily finding their way around her waist.

"What happened to you?" She whispered, dragging the back of her knuckle over a particular bruise on his cheekbone.

Alexander leaned into her touch almost longingly. "They insulted you." He mumbled back.

Eliza's brows scrunched together. All other emotions are suddenly thrown aside, and she found her hands taking ahold of his chin, dragging his face closer. He blinked at her in surprise before simply melting into her touch, the both of them drawing together in a kiss that was sweet, and yet bitter. As though they didn't quite know what they wanted from each other, aside from continuous longing.