I'm Watching You Burn - Hamilton Fanfic

Why?

     James walked up the pathway to the Hamilton Mansion, a smirk on his face, his hat tipped downwards. He knocked smartly on the door, and he heard shuffles in the next room. 

     A flicker of movement happened in the corner of his eye, and he looked over to see a small girl with curly hair and tan skin peering at him through the curtains. Her eyes widened, and she darted away from the window. James was tempted to leave, after seeing one of Alexander's children, knowing the kind of lives he'd ruin, but then Eliza opened the door, and there was no turning back. 

     Her hair was in a ponytail, which trailed down her back, and she was wearing a blue dress with a ribbon tied around her waist, and along with that, she was now holding the small girl that James saw in the window in her arms. "Hello, how can I help you?"

     James smiled again, and leaned his weight onto the railing next to him. "Madam, may I have a word?"

     "Of course! Are you looking for Alexander? He's at work right now, but he should be home soon, would you like to come in for some tea while-"

     "Actually, Ms. Schuyler,"

     "It's Mrs. Hamilton, actually,"

     "Oh, of course. I was actually looking to talk to you?"

     There was a pause, and James continued. "In private?"

     Eliza frowned, but she gently put the child down and whispered to them, and they waddled away, screaming a boy named Philip's name down the hallway. James walked the little girl go, and he felt himself smile, and Eliza cleared her throat pointedly.

     James straightened, and Eliza leaned against the doorframe, unimpressed with the situation, and she looked at him with her eyebrows raised. "What do you need?" She asked flatly, and James inhaled. 

     "Alexander cheated on you." He answered briskly. Her face changed, and she took a breath to speak, but he interrupted. "I have all the letters between them,"He took a stack of letters from his pocket and passed them to her, and she took them, the same look of shock on her face. 

     Footsteps echoed off the houses behind them, and James turned to see Alexander at the gate, one hand on the fence and a look of pure terror on his face. James smiled at him, and Alex's bag dropped to the ground. He turned back to Eliza and tipped his hat to her. "Good day, Madame Hamilton." 

     He spun on his heel and walked away, staring at Alexander as he walked. Alex slowly looked up at Eliza and mouthed her name, but Eliza was looking at the letter at the top of the pile, her eyes getting wider as they flickered word to word.

     She looked up at him then, her large, brown eyes full of tears, and she disappeared in the house. Alex called after her, grabbed his bag and booked it up to the pathway to the door. 

     His second child and first daughter, Angelica was looking at him, her face devoid of colour. "Papa, is mommy okay?" 

     "Angie, stay downstairs, okay? I need to talk to mommy. Go tell Philip."

     Angelica bounced off, looking over her shoulder as she walked away, staring at him with a look of pure curiosity. Alex hoped that look would never become an accusation. 

     Alex closed the door softly, and crept upstairs, his children's laughter echoing off the walls. The door to their bedroom was shut, and Alex leaned over quietly to listen. He could hear set footsteps, pauses in between them, as rhythmic as a heart beat. 

      He opened the door slowly to peer in, and his eyes grew wider. In their room was Eliza, her dress pooled on the floor to the side of the room, and there she was.

     Dancing, raw emotion shining through everything she did. She had a short nightgown on, the material belling out around her as she twirled and twirled, around and around. She lifted her arms above her head, and leapt through the air, her legs going straight mid-air, before landing softly. 

     She turned to him, her eyes closed, and continued dancing. Alex had danced with Eliza before, but he had never seen her do...this. As her face spun into view again, he realized that tears streaked down her cheeks, dripping down her jawline and flying off into the air. There was no light source except the burning fire in the wall, its dancing, playful flames casting flickering shadows on the wall while she danced, her feet stepping sideways and backwards, her arms loose and free while she danced. 

     She was dancing their wedding dance.

     Alex was swept up in his memories.

     She had a younger face, her cheeks fuller and redder, her face smoother, but he loved it all the same. Her lips were stretched into a smile, her eyes travelling over his face, not quite believing he was real and hers. They moved like clockwork, sweeping across the dance floor. His hand was balanced on her waist, the other holding hers, his thumb exploring her palm, as he would do many times in the future. There was something magical about her hands, featherlight and free as the ocean itself. He remembered her leaning forward and planting a kiss on his nose, having to stretch to do so, and she gently leaned into his chest, their dance slowing, and she whispered to him that night:

     "To whatever end, Alexander Hamilton, I am yours. Never shall I love another as I will love you, not at fiercely or gently with you."

     He replied to her with a smile and drew her closer to him. "To whatever end, Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton," Eliza beamed as her new surname was pronounced. "You are mine, and I am yours. I will never hold another as I hold you." Alex wished he had kept that promise. 

     Reality returned, and he looked up to find her staring at him, her eyes swollen, her hands shaking. He took her in, eyes flicking up and down briefly, and they returned to her eyes. She blinked, and her face cleared. 

     She said one word, a question, a demand, a plea. Her voice cracked as she asked:

     "Why?"