11. Laurette (part one)

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TW: Physical and emotional abuse

"All you do is fucking complain, John," Alex slurred, waving his whisky bottle in the air. "I don't want to do this, I'm too scared to do that. Blah blah blah my feet hurt. I can't fucking take it any more!" Alexander screamed at John, who was sitting on the couch, petrified. "You're a fucking idiot, John. Worthless. I don't even know why I stayed with you so long, you're a piece of shit."

"Lexi, y-you're scaring me," John whimpered, trying not to sound as scared as he was.

"Shut up, whore," Alex grumbled, taking another long swig of alcohol, staring down at John with menacing, hate-filled eyes. "Always so clingy, never letting me have any fun. Fuck you, Laurens," John winced at the use of his father's last name. Even though they weren't married, Alex let John use Hamilton as his last name. John hated being reminded of his father, and the name Laurens did just that. "So whiny and fucking annoying."

"Alex please stop it, put down the bottle. We can- we can talk about this," John's eyes brimmed with tears as he hugged a pillow close to his chest. Alexander sneered before taking one last swig of the drink before hurling it at the wall next to John, grinning evilly as it shattered, the pieces flying everywhere. One especially sharp shard caught the skin of John's face, dragging a small cut across the freckled skin. John yelped, his hand flying up to his face, where the small gash was starting to bleed quite heavily. "Please stop."

Alexander wasn't even facing John, he was just staring off and hadn't even noticed his actions had physically hurt John. "Nature this, drawing that, that's all you ever fucking talk about. You're so worthless, not to mention I dealt with your bullshit for six years. No wonder your dad hates you."

John was taken aback by the mention of his father, whom was abusive, loud and cruel, kind of like Alex at the moment. John stood, a hand still cupped over his bleeding cheek. "I'm leaving," He mumbled before heading towards the door.

"Bullshit you are," Alex turned, grabbing John's wrist. John tried to push him, but received a hard punch to the nose. Alexander's eyes widened as he recoiled, shocked, probably more shocked than John, that he had hit him. The first hit was always the most surprising.

Though that shock turned into enjoyment as he threw another punch at John, this time aimed at his abdomen. He liked it, the feeling of his knuckles colliding with John's skin. "I've missed beating the shit out of you," Alex growled pinning John down against the carpeted floor. John was terrified, watching with wide-eyes as Alex slapped him. He couldn't move, though scrawny, Alex was pretty strong, and sure as hell wasn't letting John get away.

"P-Please," John choked out half heartedly. By know he knew there was no point in trying to fight or struggle. He didn't want to anymore, by now he was just hoping Alex would hurry up and kill him already.

Alex threw one last punch at John before standing up and walking out the door like nothing had happened.

John coughed, trying to sit up. It pained him severely, but he got in reach of his phone and called the one person he knew would come over on minutes noticed.

Lafayette.

It only rang twice before the french man answered the call, mumbling a "bonjour?". John smiled, the honey-like sweetness of Lafayette's accent was comforting. "Laf, could you come over?" John tried not to sound as pained and broken as he was.

"My apologies mon ami, but I'm really busy at the moment-"

"Laf, please," John said, his eyes welling with tears. "I really need you," there was an unbearable pause, and for a second John's heart sunk in the realization Lafayette probably had more important things to do. "I-It's okay, I'll be fine. Don't worry about it."

Hamilton Oneshots [DISCONTINUED]Où les histoires vivent. Découvrez maintenant