Letters - A Phillip Hamilton X Male Reader

Chapter 21: An Unforgettable Page Of Writing.

Yellow tinted the brown-white color palette of the library, glowing and piercing down from the crystal chandeliers, bubbling down in soft rays of light. Y/N plunged through a shelf—no, through many shelves—as he still clenched down harshly onto Phillips arm and pulled him through, as if he were trying to escape from something.

Phillip let out sharp gasp, and whispered curses under his breath as Y/N nearly tumbled a few times from how fast he was hurrying along the wooden floor. Even while hurrying and scrambling among the floor, he could still manage to be so quiet..

Finally, he came to a halt, nearly having Phillip knock into him upon impact of the sudden gravitational change; though he quickly ceased his movement, and pulled him to the other side of him. He released his hand off of his arm, and looked to the thousands of warm and dark colors hidden among the welcoming shelves.

Looking up, a sign had read:

ROMANCE.

And as he looked behind him, another sign had read:

BIOGRAPHIES.

He raised a brow, questioning the odd placement of both shelves. He would have expected the romance genre shelf to be sitting right in front of the comedy shelf, if there even was one. He could hear Phillips panting still, and looked back, his eyes twinkling with honest confusion.

"Geez, man—why do you always go so fast?" Phillip looked up, as if he had been running through an entire plain of sand, drenched in sweat. Surely, with his state, he might have ran an entire marathon.

"I have a certain liking of things getting done quickly. Now—I shall pick out a book, and whether you like it or not, we're sitting over there as soon as I grab one. And you will not be going anywhere, even if you do see a beautiful woman. Understand?" Y/N calmly said, his voice cold like ice.

"God—dude, you act like I'm some little kid or somethin'!" Phillip whined, eyes sparkling with a slight glint of frustration. "With the way you behave, it is almost as if you are one. So I might as well treat someone with the mental age of a 5 year old with utmost attention." Y/N replied, facing the shelf.

"Excu—"

"Shut your mouth, I am going to pick out a book."

Phillip opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly placed his lips back down together, grumbling as he waited rather impatiently for his dear enemy to grab a book. Y/N began to raise his hand, and for a moment as he brushed his hand against the covers of the books, he found himself staring right back at his enemy.

Trust wasn't a common thing between him; there was a 50% chance he would run away, and the other 50% chance was that he would somehow end up hitting on a woman while at a quiet place. Trust wasn't something he could have with Phillip. Neither was agreement.

"What the hell are you staring at?"

He whispered that, his voice raspy and filled with slight confusion as his tone was laced with the venom of complete hatred. Y/N didn't bother to look away, and only said; "Watching you. If you run off, then there is nothing I can do."

"Of course you dont—you don't ever trust me, do you?" Phillip asked, slightly tapping his thumbs against his own arm. "Its rather hard not to, you know. Considering how you are as a person." Y/N replied calmly, staring back at the shelf in front of him, and finding his eyes upon a light pink book.

Phillip went quiet, and Y/N gently clenched his hand around the light pink book in front of him, pulling it out of the shelf; it made a slight clacking noise as it was pulled out. Y/N then turned himself around, and saw that he was now facing his enemy.