No, You! [Jamilton]

Chapter 17

Hamilton's POV

"Thomas! Thomas!"
I couldn't find Jefferson anywhere. The party was over, and I was the designated sober person (easy to do when you have so many assignments that you can never attend parties) and I was supposed to round everyone up and get them back to their dorms. I had found Jem, John, Peggy, Laf and Herc (who were very obviously making out with each other) but I had yet to find Thomas. 

I really didn't want to barge into rooms upstairs in the building that had Upstate, but most people where either passed out, or having very loud relations, so it was clear where I could enter and where I couldn't. I opened a couple of doors and found King George passed out with some random girl, and another door had Charles Lee behind it, and I had to very gingerly guide him to the washroom. (A/N - Charles Lee was left without a pot to piss in, I'm sorry lol)

Finally, I heard some quiet breathing from a room, and decided it was safe to enter. And when I opened the door, I saw -

My eyes prickled with tears. I couldn't believe it.
Jefferson, half undressed? With someone in a red devil's costume -
Maria?

I sniffled. 
Why am I crying? Jefferson is bisexual, and he didn't have any feelings for you. He told you that himself. 
I didn't know why I was crying. But I had a duty to complete, and I was going to do it. 
I knew Tho- Jefferson had the ability to walk half asleep, and I quietly poked him. He grunted, and I tried to pull him up, and succeeded - and I guided half-asleep Jefferson to his dorm, which was thankfully just a few minutes away. It was 2 AM and no cars were around, and there was just complete silence. 

Hercules had sobered up a little by the time I reached the entrance of the building, and took him upstairs. I left without a word.
Why am I so upset?

My muscles carried me to my dorm, where John and Peggy were curled up on John's bed, with an open door. I closed their room off and sat on the couch, contemplating my emotions. I couldn't comprehend what was going on. 

I took out a pen and a notebook from a nearby drawer because I wanted to write - maybe then I would understand why I was hurt. 

Jefferson,

Today I found you in bed with Maria. 

I sniffled and a drop stained the paper, smudging the still-wet fountain pen ink. I crossed it out and started again.

Jefferson,

Today, you slept with Maria.
But before that, you kissed me.
Well, I guess that isn't true. I kissed you. But you kissed me back.
You've always annoyed me, Jefferson, with your sucky comments and terrible nicknames for me. You've always been the sore thumb in the group because I didn't like you.
But the past few weeks have been amazing.

Why am I crying? I don't know, Jefferson. I just don't know. I feel helpless, and I don't know how I can be helped either. 
I never thought I could have feelings for anyone after John. Sweet John, who tried to protect me, and cared for me when even my cousin couldn't -

I stopped writing. That wasn't true. I cut through the last word. 

Sweet John, who tried to protect me, and cared for me when even my cousin didn't. But I think that I have changed. 
I think I like you, Thomas. As more than a friend
But I'm sure you do not like me. 
Maybe that is why I am crying so much. 
But I might have stored a little hope inside me that I was lovable, or that someone could actually want me. After the kiss, that hope was a little bigger, but now I see that I was wrong.
I am a friend, and nothing more, nothing less.
I wish you nothing but happiness, Jefferson.
But -

I couldn't stop crying and smudging the writing, so I tore the paper out, crumpled it up, and stashed it in my drawer. I couldn't look at it, at him, or at myself. I went inside my room, lied down on the bed, and stared at the ceiling.

I cannot believe how stupid I was.

I soon dozed off to sleep, only to be awoken rudely by my alarm. It was a Monday, which meant debate class. I couldn't face him today, I decided. So I just texted Mr Washington and said that I was too sick to come in, and I rolled myself up in my bedsheets. Tears kept rolling down my cheek as I stared into a single blank spot on the wall in front of me.

I wrote my own deliverance.

A/N - Poor Alex.
I cannot promise that tomorrow will be better for him, meanwhile, enjoy two chapters in a day because I was ecstatic about finally being able to sing Hamilton songs without my mom telling me to shut up.
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