Shy From The Spotlight - Alexander Hamilton x Reader

Sixty-Two

Boat life, especially faking to be a man, was awful. I already wrote to Princeton about how I have to postpone anything. Their response was in my bag, unopened. It sat besides Alexander's response to my letter, also unopened.

Right now it was midday and I have been at sea for only two days. We had another two before we reached a dock. Then, it was a three day journey to Boston.

"Hey! Newman!" I turned to the captain. Henry Newman was the name I went by. I know, not very creative. "Yes Captain?" I shouted back, making my voice a bit deeper. He pointed to the sail. Pointed up at the sail. I swallowed.

"Let out the main sail, the wind changed course." He ordered. I didn't even feel a breeze! But, my answer always is, "Yes Captain."

I walked to the...pole? The giant pole holding the sails. I latched onto the shaky ladder and started to climb. I inhaled sharply, not looking down. I climbed and climbed, each step shakier. I took a deep breath as I neared the top, murmuring, "For C/N."

It was my new saying whenever I disagreed with boat life, a reminder why I was here.

I reached the top and hauled myself onto the other wooden pole. I should probably learn these names. Eh, oh well. I grabbed the rope holding the main sail. I've seen the other shipmates do this dozens of times.

I tugged it over, hobbling a bit. I yelped and regained my balance. "Hurry up Newman!" The Captain barked. I mumbled impolite words before letting loose the main sail. I groaned and went back to the ladder. I walked down slowly, steadily.

I hit the floor with a thud. I dusted off my dirty brown trousers and looked to the captain, who gave a small nod in approval. I gave him a slight grin before going to the beds.

The beds were bunked. I was fortunate enough to have a top, my bunkmate currently napping. Harry Korsman. Tall, broad, tanned skin man with short, chocolate hair. He didn't have any marks on his skin, freckles, scars, etc., but his hazel eyes seemed to be honed with a brutal history. I never asked.

I climbed to my bed, where my letters laid under my dirty pillow. I took a deep breath and grabbed the Princeton letter.

Y/F/N Schuyler,
It is unfortunate that you have to postpone our offer. We have decided to give you a single month, via request. If we do not hear from you by the fifth of January, we will take our offer off the table.
Respectfully,
Princeton Headmaster Hugh Henry Brackenridge

I sighed in relief and folded the paper. My gaze lingered in Alexander's letter. I've waited too long. I snatched up the letters and opened it.

Dearest, Y/F/N Schuyler,
It's quite alright, the lack of response to my letters. I'm so sorry about C/N. I advise you to not do anything absurd or irrational. I've had my fair share of misfortune. Just seek consolation in your family and all will be well, in time.
Yours,
A. Hamilton

My throat bobbed as I set the letter down. I advise you to not do anything absurd or irrational. Bit too late but better late than never. I slid them back into their envelops before putting them back under my pillow.

"Your woman at home?" I jumped, nearly falling off the bed. To my right, Harry was looking at my pillow, as if he could see through and to the letters. Oh.

I blinked and cleared my throat. "Erm, yeah." I lied, hopping off the bed. Harry directed his gaze to me, looked me over. I held my breath.

After some time, he shrugged. "Name?" I blinked again. "Elizabeth Matthews." I blurted, two names randomly springing in my mind. He nodded in approval. "Married?" I nodded, showing him my ring. The inscription was on the inside, so he couldn't see it.

He nodded and looked back to me. "Loyalist or Patriot?" I asked out if frank curiosity. He raised a dark eyebrow. "Does it matter?" I shrugged. "Mostly not. You believe what you believe." I said. Father would go berserk.

He chuckled. "If only, Newman. If only."

                                        * *

I jerked awake and the sounds of shouts and lightning. I'd fallen asleep right after supper. "Newman! Get out here and help us!" Harry shouted. I sprang into action, leaping off my bed. Since I slept in trousers and a tunic, I headed straight outside, hat on.

The sea was a mess. Giant waves crashed down, splashing icy water onto the deck. The wind thrashed the sails, steering us in random directions. The rain pelted my skin, the lighting cracking and making us all on edge.

"Newman! Grab this!" Markus James, the cook, shouted, through me a rope. I snatched it and somehow knew exactly what to do, like a forgotten instinct.

I tugged at the rope, Markus as my side. Once the sails were down, we tied them down. "Newman!" I turned around. The captain was struggling to keep the hold. I ran up, grabbed the captain and a rope. "Tie this around you!" I shouted over the wind. He obeyed and scowled.

I was about to grab my own rope when the boat tipped. I screamed as I held onto the railing, dangling over the water. "Henry!!" I heard Harry shout. I heard him run over and grip my wrist.

Panic stuck through me like a knife. I felt the cold ocean lick my feet. I looked up to Harry, fear causing my heart to rate. "Don't let go!" We screamed in unison. "Don't-" The boat jerked and I felt my hands fall, nothing catching me but cold, unforgiving ocean.