Letters - A Phillip Hamilton X Male Reader

Chapter 3: A Fight Between Honorable Men

Before the man could even react, he found himself plummeting to the ground, a large fist being the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes out of pure anguish and pain. He felt himself land on the ground messily, his legs sprawled out against the cold concrete.

He looked up, and found himself staring into the eyes of his enemy standing before him. Light, blazing blue eyes full of hatred. They were practically like the roaring waves of Tsunamis with how furious they seemed. The man glared down at him, breathing heavily out of loathing.

"Call me that again and see what happens!" Phillip yelled, furiously gesturing with his hands as he drew his lips back into a snarl. Y/N only stared up at him, unable to find the words inside of his dry mouth. A line of sweat dripped down his face, and the aching of the punch only pounded like a heartbeat. Y/N winced in reply, but continued to stare into Phillips eyes regardless.

"You hear me?!" Phillip growled, as if he were some kind of wild animal. The man only approached Y/N further, looking ready to throw a fist or foot his way if Y/N dared to even say anything wrong in the slightest. For the first time in a bit, Y/N found himself feeling fearful.

Y/N had to do something, he couldn't just let himself get physically harmed like that and not do something about it. Though even in a situation like this, he wasn't sure if the usual talking route would work out. Either way, he had to think of something to avoid being hit again.

"Hamilton," he began, holding a hand tightly against his chest out of agony, "your being completely unreasonable. What reason do you have to attempt harm on me?!" He asked. The other man only seethe in reply, looking at him with a furious and frustrated stare.

"What reason do I have not to?" Phillip yelled, "You insulted my pops, and now me! If you wanna fight, then let's do it! Right here, right now." The curly haired man seemed rather eager to fight the man whom he had punched to the ground.

"I cant—" Y/N coughed, "I can't do that, Hamilton— I'm not going to harm you, no matter what you say. Fighting is completely unreasonable!" Y/N protested, only feeling himself being stared at with those darkened blue eyes again.

Phillip was staring at him now, eyes full of such hatred and burning loathing that he could feel himself almost bowing before him in an attempt to be spared from whatever wrath he was about to unleash upon him. Yet even so, he didn't back down, and continued to stare right back at him.

"Hamilton, there's no reason for me to fight you." Y/N swallowed, "You aren't worth the trouble, nor the time. Please, release me from this unreasonable predicament you've put me into and let me go home—"

As he sat there, he was then cut off by the angered shriek of Phillip who had been trembling with hatred. Before he knew it, he saw Phillips body coming closer.. and his face. Phillip was lunging at him, arms spread out. He didn't even have time to react— he was pinned to the ground immediately!

Y/N grunted, and felt himself be shaken by the sheer force of Phillips tightened hands on his shoulders. And then— his face contorted to the other side, a sheer force of pain stung on his left cheek. Phillip had punched him again.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" Phillip repeatedly yelled at the man whom he had pinned on the ground, punching him from cheek to cheek. Y/N's hands aimed for Phillips chest, and began to weakly attempt to push him off. But Phillips body insisted on remaining dominant on top of Y/Ns own.

Phillip failed his arms about, aiming for anywhere and anything to pull on or hit. Y/N eventually grabbed his arms, and began to attempt to restrain the man who sat perfectly on top of him.

"Woah, woah, woah!" A masculine voice sounded from behind Phillip. Another voice, layered with the masculine one called out Y/Ns name in an almost worried manner. "Y/N!" The voice called out from behind him. Y/N knew who it was. There was no reason to be surprised. So why did he seem shocked someone came for him?

A pair of arms attempted to push Phillip away, but ones from behind Phillip pulled the man off of Y/N. Y/N found himself being pulled up as well, only a bit more gentle. As he heard Phillip shriek and screech from whomever had held him so, Y/N looked into the eyes of the man whom he knew had come for him.

Aaron Burr. His father.

He looked into those familiar dark eyes, and felt himself slightly be relieved. "Y/N, are you alright, my boy? What happened?!" His father asked, concerned and desperately holding onto his son who could have almost been killed if the fight went on for too long.

"Yes, yes," Repeated Y/N, "I'm fine, father. We.. we merely got into a disagreement over something." Y/N softly explained, unsure if those words were all he needed for an explanation.

"Disagreement?" Said his father, "He was nearly about to strangle you! You could have died, Y/N!"

Y/N didn't reply, only looking to the man who had been holding onto Phillip. Though he immediately recognized who it was by the firm broad structure of his body and the violet-blue eyes alone; Alexander Hamilton. Phillips father.

The man looked at his son, whom finally calmed down and stopped screeching. "Phillip, what is the meaning of this?!" He asked, "What happened?!"

"He was— he insulted me, father!" He defended, "He insulted you!"

Alexander looked in Y/Ns direction, making the man gulp in response, he then looked to Y/Ns father. "Aaron Burr, sir."

"Alexander.." Y/N's father breathed.

"It seems my son got in a fight with yours, sir." Passive aggression hid behind those violet-blue eyes, "I would suggest teaching your son better manners, sir."

Y/N flinched. This wasn't going to end well.

"My son?" His father furrowed his eyebrows, "I think your son needs some better manners taught, Alexander. As far as I'm concerned, your son was the one attacking mine."

"And why would your son be being attacked unless my son was provoked?" Alexander hissed, "You should know better than to assume your own child might have been in the right."

"Your one to talk." Y/Ns father growled under his breath.

"Excuse me?" Alexander replied, a voice of false innocence in his tone. Before the two men could start a duel and possibly shed blood, Y/N turned to his father and quietly said; "Father, that's enough. I'm fine. We should just return home now."

His father looked to him, and sighed. "Come on," he said, "let's go home, Y/N."

As his father began to guide him towards the destination of his own home, Y/N could hear the passionate and angered protests of Phillip speaking to his professional father. But the voices only became fainter  as they went farther into the town.

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