Hamilton One Shots

{Jamilton} August 27 (6)

I felt the wood of the bench beneath my fingertips, trying to relive these small memories that returned.  I couldn't bring myself to forget them, I never wanted to.  I missed John dearly.  I wish they took me instead of him. 

Sighing, I stood up and headed home.  Maybe I'd be able to get some type of homework done there.

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I told Thomas Jefferson that I wasn't prepared for a date yet. He didn't understand, but I didn't let him understand. I didn't tell him why, or anything for that matter. I just said I couldn't and left it at that.

I got myself out of bed this morning, surprisingly. I had toast for breakfast and some coffee. I didn't finish it, I wasn't hungry. I started to get myself ready for the day, though I had no plan to leave this apartment.

I looked on my calendar that hung on my wall. August 27. I kept the tears in as I walked out of the apartment. I needed to find a way to forget today. My mind thought the park would be a good place to go, so I went there.

Before I knew it, I ended up at the same tree as yesterday. I looked up at it with a frown. Tears streamed down my face as I looked at the bark, touching it gently. "Oh John, why did you do this to me?" I murmured as I gently took my fingers away from the tree, thinking that it was as fragile as I was at this moment.

I gently put my forehead against the tree as tears streamed down my face at a more rapid pace. "You had to go against racism, didn't you? You just had to do it in the South. You left me and now I'm nothing without you," I talked as I closed my eyes tightly.

"Alexander," a soft voice was heard above my quiet sniffles.

I knew that voice anywhere. "John?" I breathed in as I slowly took my head from the bark, looking at the tree. In front of me stood a clear version of John Laurens, my best friend, my boyfriend. My dead boyfriend.

"Alexander, I am dead," those words crushed my heart. "I'm not longer here with you in life. I am always in your heart."

I opened my mouth to say something, but John quickly spoke. "Go to Thomas Jefferson."

"What?" I murmured under my breath.

"I know you love me. I love you, too, Alex. But I can't be here for you no more. You have to move on," He says as he gently touched my face with his hand. His hand felt cold against my warm cheek.

"John," I mumbled as I looked down, hair getting in my eyes.

John started to disappear. "Go to him, Alexander. You deserve to be happy."

With those last few words, he was gone before I even knew what happened. The touch of his hand on my cheek was nonexistent, leaving no trace of him even being here. I stood there, looking into nothing as the breeze blew my hair.

I then finally broke down into sobs, falling to my knees.

August 27. The day of John Laurens' death.

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"Alexander?" Thomas asked as I stood at his apartment door at 6 P.M.. I stayed in the park for most of the day, sobbing. Now that I stood in front of him, I was suddenly shy and anxious of how I appeared. "Come on in, Alex."