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A/n: yall are gonna hate me for this uwu

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"What happened?" John asked. He was infuriated. So many things is happening at once and no one decided to leave him a meme at least? "Y/n, why are you with him? This isn't about your case thingy, is it? Where's Mary off to?"

Silence.

Y/n didn't speak. She couldn't answer John. Hell, just the sound of his voice makes her feel all guilty again.

Philip, on the other hand, stood up from the stair step he once was. He too was infuriated. This was all (indirectly) John's fault. All this damn bullshit was his fault.

"Step away from her." He said with harshness and anger blending in the tone of his voice. "She's had enough of you."

"Last I checked, you were the one hating on Y/n." John said.

Oh boy. This can't end well.

Philip shoved John away. "You think you're so cool, huh?" Philip yelled.

People turned to see the commotion and ruckus, but Child Hamilton couldn't care less. He just needed to keep this asshole away. To protect Y/n, surround Y/n, heal Y/n... love Y/n...

Platonically, of course. Can't have a partnered case without a partner. Amiright?

"You think just cause you got the girl, everything' gon' be all unicorns and pegasi, rainbows and cinnamon rolls." He snapped.

Y/n watched, unamused. She wouldn't even flinch of these two began killing each other... er if Philip began killing John. Johnny would never hurt a soul.

He was too oblivious.

Oblivious to the fact Mary liked him, to the fact Y/n was hurting, to the fact Philip... protecting Y/n...

She looked down at her heels and played with the hem of her skirts, letting the boys be them and her lost in emotions and thought.

"What?" John said. "Get lost with all the 'happy that I get the girl'? I don't wanna frigging talk to you. I want to speak with Y/n. You are not my concern here... uh... bucko."

"Yeah? Well, she isn't your concern too, thot." Philip said, clenching his fists and stepping towards the poor John who barely could keep his knees from wobbling.

"Actually she is." John said, straightening his back. Philip was only an inch or two taller than him, but he didn't let that intimidate him. Or he tried not to let it intimidate him.

"Why is that?" Philip taunted.

"Because I wasn't the one bitching on Y/n ever since we met." John yelled, causing Y/n to look up at the fight.

John has never cursed before. Like ever in his life.

Even Philip looked shocked. His man just called him "bucko" and is now saying he was bitching on Y/n?

"You know? Heh. I actually was the one who cared for her. I was the one who loved her. I was there by her side, rain or shine, day or night. I'm her bestfriend," John said, though the last bit pained him to say. "I'm not the sly bucko tryin'a get into her skirt. I'm not the one who insult her. I'm not the one who stressed her out. I am not the one who hates her."

Philip opened his mouth so say something, but nothing came out of his mouth. What was he to say? Was he to deny his hate for Y/n?

He took a look back at Y/n. She had recovered from her Johnny-cursed-world-is-ending-blame-snails shock and was now just watching them. Her once cheerful face was now hard and emotionless. She sat still, her head most likely wrapped in thoughts and emotions.

Her empty e/c eyes looked up at him as if to say "so, what'll you do now?"

What will he do now? He's torn between protecting his enemy and his father's name.

Befriend Jefferson was only going to make his father feel worse. What would Alexander think about the idea of his son and the daughter of his enemy being "friends"?

It would ruin his name. His legacy. The same one he built from scratch, from the ashes of his past. That legacy was his father's hardwork put into a narative.

Eh. If Pops really cared about his legacy he wouldn't have cheated on Ma.

"But I'm not the one who made her cry." Philip said, his voice firm and dominant.

For a splitsecond, John's eyes widened in fear. But he stood his gaurd. He fixed his glare, tilted his head upwards,  and puffed out his chest.

He will show no fear.

They're more afraid of you than you are of them, John. Wait, that's for dogs.

"Oh, so it's my fault?" He asked. He was daring Hamilton to talk.

His usually calm demeanor was replaced with something far more fearful. Philip would be lying if he said he wasn't slightly scared. If this man was gonna curse, then he could also probably kill.

Philip grit his teeth.

John tightened his fists.

Philip readied his stance.

John readied for a punch.

Before either could do anything, Y/n walked between them. Her gazed fixated onto the ground, her head hung low in grief.

"Go kill each other, for all I care." She said, her voice was colder than her father's heart. "You both don't corncern me."

She walked away, her heels barely lifting off the ground. She didn't care about them as much as they cared about her.

She doesn't know what she should be caring about. Her grieving father? Her fustrated bestfriend? Her protective enemy? Her broken self?

She didn't know what she was feeling. She didn't know what she was thinking.
She didn't know what she was saying.

She knows not of the future or the events it'll bring. But she does know that she needs to heal. She needs time.

Alone.

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A/n: JoHn CuRsEd WtF aUtHoR cHaN!!

... wait-

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