Hamilton One Shots

{Lafferson} Make You Believe You Are Lovely (P. 1) (49)

▲▽Marquis de Lafayette's P.O.V.▼△
★Modern AU★
★・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・★

A gentle touch made me crave him. A soft tone made me fall faster in love. A loving look made me keep loving. I believe those were some of the best parts about being with Thomas Jefferson.

"Mon amour, mon âme, mon Gilbert," ("My love, my soul, my Gilbert") he would whisper at night, pulling me closer to him.

"Je t'aime," I'd whisper back.

He would repeat what I said before we both fell asleep.

Tonight was not one of those nights.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

I glanced at the clock, a soft ticking echoing from it as I read the time; 2:29. He had not returned from work, saying he would be working a little later than usual. Whenever he said that, he'd usually be home by 10, knowing I hated being alone in bed. His usual work hours ended by 7, sometimes 8.

I glanced at my phone once more, checking if he had replied to my three messages I had sent.

'I hope you get home soon. I miss you.'
Sent at 9:34.
'I'm starting to worry, Thomas. I love you and hope you get home soon.'
Sent at 11:48.
'Thomas, at least reply to my messages, please. I'm worried.'
Sent at 1:58.

He hadn't even read them.

I looked away from my phone, a bowl for the Mac and Cheese that I made hours ago placed in my hands. The food was probably cold by now, but who says I can't warm it up when he gets home?

The front door opened and I turned to see my boyfriend, Thomas, walking in. I smiled, quickly saying, "Welcome home, mon amour! I made macaroni and cheese, it might be cold, but I can heat it up for you if you'd-"

"I'm not hungry," Thomas interrupted, his hand up dismissively.

My smile slowly dropped, the grip on the bowl I held getting tighter. "Oh, that's alright! I'll just save it for later."

"There's no need," Thomas said, walking past the kitchen to the bedroom. I watched as he went, his stance emotionless and his face unreadable.

"D-D'accord."

I put the bowl away, my hands slightly shaking as I felt tears fall down my face. I slowly cleaned up the uneaten dinner, made with love. I homemade it, hoping Thomas would approve.

Maybe I am being over dramatic. Maybe I should assume it's exhaustion that has him in this mood and I should be going to bed.

I was thinking about throwing the food away, the food I took about an hour to make. I decided against it, thinking he may eat it later on. I scooped up all the Mac and cheese into a container and stored it in the fridge as leftovers. I cleaned up the kitchen a bit and put the extra dirty dishes I had in the sink, knowing I would do them tomorrow.

I walked towards the bedroom, peeking in to see Thomas was on his side of the bed, facing away from the door. The door was closer to my side, which I did not mind.

I slid into bed and looked at the back of my lover. He looked tense, from what I could see from his muscles poking from his shirt that he changed into. I reached to touch him, but hesitated, my hand barely missing him. Deciding against touching him, I turned around in bed and faced away from the Virginian. Maybe this will turn out better tomorrow.