Thomas Jefferson's POV
As soon as I woke up, I noticed Hamilton wasn't there. It wasn't for any reason other than his constant typing, being so loud it makes me want to scream.
No other reason, of course.
I got up from my bed, and walked to the bathroom getting ready to brush my teeth. I got on my phone to see I had a few missed messages from Jemmy & Burr. It wasn't something uncommon, as the two often stayed up later into the night then I did.
ITSMAGENTANOTPURPLE: I've been told you two to just message eachother, dumbasses. You know I go to sleep early
HAIRLESS: Good morning to you too.
HAIRLESS: And anyways, it's something you need to see.
ITSMAGENTANOTPURPLE: ??
JEMMY: He's right.
I went scrolling through the previous messages, confused as to what they meant. I was quickly met by my answer.
There in the image was me carrying Hamilton the night before, the man I so despised.
ITSMAGENTANOTPURPLE: And how did you get this?
JEMMY: Well, not so fun fact, but almost everyone on campus has seen it. It's probably the most interesting thing that's happened in years.
It was a bit of a shock I supposed, but it wasn't much to interrupt my day-to-day schedule.
ITSMAGENTANOTPURPLE: Hey, you two want to hang out today?
HAIRLESS: So you're just going to ignore it?
JEMMY: Do you even care enough to explain?
ITSMAGENTANOTPURPLE: Not really
JEMMY: ...
JEMMY: Where?
. . .
"So." Jemmy started.
"So?"
"Would you care to explain what you were doing in that photo?" Jemmy asked.
Aaron slurped up his Americano quickly.
The three of us sat within a local cafe, serving all sorts of coffee assortments, desserts and such.
I ordered a Cappuccino Freddo, Jemmy a Marocchino, and Aaron an Americano. Despite how he seemed, Jemmy seemed to like his coffee sweet. And despite seeming like the type of person who knew his coffee, everytime he ordered, he got a simple americano.
I personally decided to get a cheesecake with my Cappuccino Freddo, but Jemmy kept giving me a disapproved look.
"It doesn't matter." I said simply.
"How does it not matter? It probably matters the most when it comes to your social life." Aaron asked, putting one of his first inputs.
I looked at the two with a raised eyebrow.
"Are you two together?" Aaron and Jemmy asked, almost perfectly in sync.
It was a bit along the lines of what I knew they'd ask, but it still caught me off guard.
"We aren't." I said, trying to not let how flustered I was show.
"Old you wouldn't have said it like that. He would've listed all the reasons that you could never be with someone like him." Jemmy sighed.
"Okay then. 1. He's arrogant. 2. He won't ever admit how he was wrong. 3. He lives unhealthily. 4.-" I started before being cut off.
"Oh look, there's Hamilton."
"Things like that won't trick me-"
I wasn't able to finish without trailing off. It actually was him. He was walking up to another table behind us, greeting them with a smile. God, I couldn't stop staring at him. Even with his unflattering work apron in that shade of green I hated... he looked gorgeous head to toe.
"You look like you're thinking some rather forward thoughts." Jemmy chuckled.
"Shut the hell up."
(Sorry for the short chapter! I included this one because it was way too small. ;)
Limited Third person Narrative
Honestly, Hamilton had to agree that part of what he thought of Jefferson was wrong. He had always thought of him as cocky, snarky, and overall loud. But he was barely any of this. Describing him as conceited would be a far fetch, and Jefferson always knew his worth in important situations. He was almost an antonym for loud; he was soft spoken, and was almost never heard. Although, the description of snarky fit well.
"Hey, Hamilton?"
"Yes?" He responded, a suspicious look ensued.
"Jemmy said I should ask you if you wanted to go skating tonight." Jefferson deadpanned, showing an image of the conversation between Jefferson and Madison.
"Why?"
"I don't know, ask him."
Hamilton sighed as he thought for a second. "Sure."
Jefferson looked astounded.
"Really?"
"What did I just say? Yes really."
. . .
"Are you sure I can have these? I'm probably not going to wear them after today." Hamilton asked.
"I've been meaning to throw them away anyways." Jefferson shrugged.
Hamilton fidgeted with his fingers as he looked down at the skates he had on. They were black, a slight glittery star outline of a 'magenta' to jade green gradient being the only spark of color near the heels. Hamilton sat upon a cushioned chair, contemplating if he should just use the rental skates. They were cheaper than those bought anyways.
He tried to get up, but quickly stumbled back onto his seat.
Jefferson tried to cover up his laugh as he asked, "Do you want to go to the practice rink?"
Hamilton quickly responded with a nod.
As the two were making their way to the practice area, Jefferson had a joking question he had wanted to ask.
"Have you never gone skating before?"
"I actually haven't." Hamilton said with a nervous chuckle. " I've never really had someone to go with, and it wasn't ever the type of activity to consume my waking thoughts."
"What about your parents..?" Jefferson started to ask before remembering what to expect as a response.
Hamilton stopped walking.
I think you already know the answer to that. My mother never had the chance to," He said with a shy, sorrowful smile. "But hey, look! New memories!"
Jefferson knew he was supposed to have some sort of deep rooted hatred for Hamilton, but he couldn't just not apologize.
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault."
The two made themselves into the practice rink, not a word being said until a child zipped past the two of them.
"Wow, it's a bit embarrassing to think that a child can skate better than me." Hamilton said, breaking the silence.
"At least you're willing to learn."
Hamilton held onto the railing as he tried to shuffle his feet across the rink.
"Hey, try not to be so stiff." Jefferson said as he slowly grabbed the side of Hamilton's chest. "It's like walking. One foot in front of the other."
He tried to do it, but ended up tripping backwards. Luckily, he was caught by Jefferson. "Maybe that wasn't the best piece of advice. Try pushing one foot in front of the other, as if you're walking. Still, keep your feet on the ground."
Hamilton tried to follow his instructions once more, visibly nervous. He almost fell as he tried, his left foot going a bit too forward, but the railing saved him. He looked back at Jefferson who gave him a thumbs up. Such a small gesture and a bit of help encouraged Hamilton more than he ever thought it could. His pale skin turned a bright pink with just that.
After about ten minutes without any feedback from Jefferson, he felt a bit confident. This was until he heard someone from behind him.
"Hey."
As Hamilton turned his head, he felt a pair of arms snake around his waist.
"You might want to move more like this," Jefferson started as he turned Hamilton's direction with his hands. "Although I would understand why it'd be more difficult."
Despite the shock that filled Hamilton's face when he felt cold hands grasp onto his body, he obliged.
"Like this?" He asked, as he tried to swerve his leg in front of the other.
Jefferson smiled. "You're a fast learner."
When about an hour or two passed, Hamilton was exhausted.
"God, my feet are sore." He said walking towards Jefferson, holding along the rails.
"Well, if you choose to continue skating, you'll have to get used to it. Wanna get ready to leave?"
Hamilton looked back at him, feeling a bit guilty. "Don't you want to skate for a bit? You spent your whole time just watching me."
"It's alright darlin'! I've got my exercise in for the week." He responded as he skated backwards effortlessly.
Hamilton was astounded. "I'll ignore you calling me that if you teach me how to do that next time."
"I might. If you're up for the challenge, that is?"
The two laughed as they began to make their way back home.
(A/N): I didn't know if I was descriptive enough about the skates, so I spent an hour trying to draw this shit:
Word Count: 1,391