My Dear Laurens (Lams)

A. Hamilton

They had a home of their own.

A fresh coat of cream on the outside, a porch at the front, windows on either side and a red-brick chimney at the top. The door led to a walkway with a kitchen to the right doubling as a dining room. If you kept following the walkway, you would see a door on the left leading to the master bedroom, which was the only bedroom. When the walkway ended, it had a set of French doors that opened to red stairs opening up to the backyard which stretched for a few hundred feet of close-cut grass until it hit a large fruit and vegetable garden that Laurens tended to in the mornings.

Alexander noted Laurens was outside this morning. As usual, taking special care of his plants before he went to his new job consisting of a variety of odd jobs he did for their community.

The coffee Alexander made was ready so he poured himself and Laurens a cup, both black – although, Laurens developed a new habit of drinking his coffee with nutmeg – then, he walked down the red steps to Laurens, crouched by his tomatoes. As Alexander watched Laurens snip at the drooping stems desperately latching onto ripened, bulbous fruit, he set the spiced coffee by Laurens' knee. Alexander resumed an upright position, taking a breath. He knew Laurens wasn't ready to talk to him yet. He needed time to adjust to Alexander's rejection, which was in no way a rejection of Laurens, but of... his desire to marry.

Shit, Alexander thought, tapping his fingers against his mug, I have to fix this.

"John, I need you to know that I still love you. I wasn't trying to hurt you by turning your hand away, but you understand why I said what I said, don't you?"

Laurens sighed. He turned his head toward Alexander, tilting his chin up. "Yeah, I do. You're scared of being discovered and you're scared one of us might get hurt or killed because we were found out. I understand." He wiped the sweat from his brow and stood, his head above Alexander's. "I know you still love me, too. But me understanding what you did, and me knowing you still love me, doesn't just fix everything."

Alexander reached his hand out to hold Laurens'. Laurens accepted, but his face looked tired. Alexander couldn't let Laurens feel this way. He pulled Laurens' arm to him, then wrapped him in a hug. Laurens tucked his head in the crook of Alexander's neck, breathing against his skin.

"I'm sorry," Alexander whispered.

"I know." Laurens pulled away, leaving Alexander's arms to droop at his sides. "I have to go to work, Alex. I'll see you tonight."

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

A smile hinted at Laurens' features. "I love you too."

After Laurens left, Alexander realized Laurens hadn't touched his coffee. Alexander picked it up from the dirt and brought it inside. He dumped his empty mug into the sink, then chugged Laurens' room-temperature coffee. He couldn't think of anything else to do or say to Laurens, so he tried to distract himself with work. Jefferson helped with that, but only briefly. When he got home, Laurens was there with dinner ready. They talked a little and Laurens seemed more comfortable around Alexander again. He acted like himself, but quieter. Although Alexander knew his dialogue usually spoke much louder than Laurens', this was different. If Alexander didn't talk incessantly, he feared nothing would be said. Thank God, Laurens interrupted him.

"Alex, stop," he said, pointing his fork across the very short dining table.

Alexander nodded, pressing his lips together. "Yeah, okay."

Laurens glanced at Alexander, then shook his head. "You know you don't have to do this, right?"

"Do, what?"