Philip Hamilton; a brave, strapping, young lad who was bound on making a name for himself. He was ready to swoop in and save a damsel in distress. But who could this damsel be? A far too smart mouthed woman for her own good?
Philip was head over he...
The song is where i got the idea! Pretend that is you and not Theodora. I didn't spell that right... sorry...
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Pick one...! (Alter if you want!?) (realistically the red one is more correct?) _______
"There is still more." I said.
Philip only smiles, he brings his hand to my cheek, whipping his hand across my cheek, sweetly.
"I don't care if your from the moon!" He said. "That just made you who you are, my little dove."
"I guess we will see."
____________ Texas 1784 _____________________ Y/N at age 14 ___________
This day has never left my mind from the moment mama walked through the door with tears. We were so riddled with poverty and hunger it was overwhelming.
You could—most likely— smell the poverty from a mile away. Our tattered clothes and our skinny bodies could easily be seen with just a glance.
We didn't have money for food or rent, to keep it sort and sweet, we couldn't keep a job going for very long.
More and more business refused to hire mama or me due to us being women, many firing us due to the fact that other male employees were distracted and couldn't handle working with other women.
We even worked for longer hours for less pay then any other man in every field, factory, and sweatshop we could work at.
But alas, those jobs never went our way and mama was working at the local dinner where the owner was a perverted old man and the tips were lousy.
I tried to work there as well but mama didn't want me around men like that, so I stayed home, watching a farms kids next door. He had nine kids in total, his wife died of smallpox a year or so ago and he was to busy working in the fields to care for them all so he paid us by helping put food on the table. So I watched the farms kids and my little brother most days.
