Infatuation (King George III xreader)

~63~ Life as it happened

*Unedited.*
Word count: 3202

~~~ November 23, 1777 ~~~
(No one's pov)

°
°
°

The air around town had long grown cold with a more gentle chill of the upcoming winter months - causing the silently bustling bodies of people around the area dawn shalls and thin coats while their breath was caught in a moment of time with whisps of what was reminiscent of candle-like smoke disappearing up into the air in its angelic dance.

The male's strides were long, full of a calm confidence that hid away the muddled mumblings of his soft spoken thoughts, much like the dark umber hued jacket draped over his frame.
And although the nipping breeze kept him awake the male couldn't help but feel unfocused ‐ lost almost.

He picks up his pace, seeming to want to hide his falter and a pair of dark brown eyes glance up from their lackluster study of the ground to look at the building that drew near - the darkened bricks of bland, dusty, and lifeless brownish-red only shining with reflected light from the otherwise dull afternoon sun and sat in contrast with the white paned windows on the second floor.

At least...that how he felt describing it.

The thoughts put themselves on hold - as Hamilton knew he had more important things to focus his attention on, and his warm hand grasps the handle of the door, turning it with a sharp exhale of stiff breath before opening it and stepping through the threshold where much warmer and not-so stale air greeted his skin.

The male strides down the hall in an almost jog-like state of mind - and not wanting to waste time he makes his way to and up the stairs at the back of the entrance hallway, listening to the clicking of his shoes.

His newest destination was already in mind, and the many words he needed to share were preparing themselves to be spoken out loud to something other than his lost thoughts.

The dark haired male had no bother for knocking - and instead invited himself in on his urgent matter - the door opening quite swiftly at the calm command as he walks into the quiet office of a man he knew would listen - who had to listen.

"Sir." Hamilton says in first greeting as the male in question looks up - partly due to the sudden arrival, and he makes it across to the middle of the room in three steps before his hands place themselves on the edge of the general's desk - his lean frame bent forward just enough to show a sense of importance to the male sat in front of him.
"We need to talk."

"Hamilton." Washington says back in a curious, yet even tone.
"Whatever is-"

"I've been thinking." He cuts him off with haste. "All week I've been tracing my steps back in my head - going over everything that happened that day, anything I can remember hearing or seeing." The male rambles as though every word had equal significance.
"I have a list - I wrote down all the details that have stood out to me, and although I don't have much I'm certain if we reopen some sort of investigation - send soldiers out to gather information from the people in town, from Mrs. Ingalls and the families we'll-"

The raising of the general's hand was more than enough to cease the male's words, letting the room fall silent aside from a stiff hitching of breath.

Washington's eyes were gentle, holding what seemed to be a restless undertone and they fall to the desk as though he didn't want to hear the rest of the conversation. He then sighs - his hand moving to rub the circles from under them.
His shoulders were relaxed, loose like the balled hand on his lap.

His dark eyes turn back up after a moment, still gentle and still held back. Tired in a sense.

"We have a few meetings coming up these next few days. Did you finish the work I assigned to you?" Washington asks in a calm tone - seeing the male's brow twitch in a silent response of being taken aback by his question.