I Have Nowhere Else to Turn

Chapter Three

It was actually another hour or so before the short man entered the door only to find his friendly acquaintance person and roommate in the same room, both of them breathing, too. He didn't know that was feasible.

James tried to speak but Thomas made the universally recognized symbol to 'shut up', rolling his eyes like 'You should know not to ask questions because someone is sleeping and this is the most normal thing in the world'.

Instead, he got off the couch, grabbed James' arm, and dragged him to their shared bathroom to talk.

"Okay, so I know how weird this-"

"Weird? That's the word you're using?" It wouldn't have been such a big deal if it had been almost anyone else, but their hate-hate relationship was legendary. There was a Twitter page specifically for theories, news, and updates on the arguments. So Madison was completely in the right despite anything Thomas said.

Said man pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the headache that was growing. "Jamie, she was sick and needed to go to the hospital. No one else was around, so that left me. That's it. I promise." There went his prepared speech that literally took him the majority of an hour to make.

James seemed a bit skeptical, but he was the master of knowing when to pick his fights. "Fine, but where do you plan on sleeping? If she felt so bad that she came to you, I don't think she be waking up by choice anytime soon and I'm not giving up my bed."

Thomas scowls. "You're such a nice friend."

Exiting the bathroom, James sweetly whisper-yells, "I know. I love you to too."

Grumbling clean - obviously - insults, he follows his friend out.

His eyes found her sleeping form without any conscious effort. And, yes, he knew how creepy it sounded, but it didn't make the fact any less true. If only it was that easy.

That is, if there was anything that needed to become easier. Because there wasn't. Life was good; nothing was wrong.

Denial was good as well.

xxoOoxx

Hamilton's POV

Despite what the books said, she knew she wasn't in her own room the moment the sleepy, drug-filled haze had started to thin out. The pain was still there and the more she woke up, the more it increased, but she had this thing that when she woke up, she tended not to be able to fall back asleep.

Some days, it was extremely annoying. Like now. Now would be a good time to return to the land of warm blankets that smelled amazing and were soft and made her want to steal them.

It was too early to bother admonishing herself. Took too much work. Especially without her morning cup. Yes, coffee.

"Coffee," She groaned, not caring if the man she was ninety-nine point nine percent sure was there. Slowly, Alex curled up further upon herself and pulled the blankets closer, ignoring the words that filter through one ear and out the other.

Feeling desperate, Alexandra added through the covers, "Please."  

Magically, for she didn't know if he had been standing, waiting for her to use her manners or if he had returned with her coffee. Alex didn't care. She didn't care if it was Thomas Jefferson. She didn't care that Jefferson knew exactly how she took her coffee. She didn't even care that the Virginian was watching her chug down her beverage like a drunk would a can of beer with an extreme look of disgust.

It was high quality, that much she could tell. Alex had enough experience that her taste buds were well aware of the difference between crappy, decent, and amazing coffee. That cup fell into the last category, scoring Jefferson some reluctant points in Hamilton's book.