Letters - A Phillip Hamilton X Male Reader

Chapter 26: A Painting Of A Candle.

When Phillip Hamilton awoke that morning, the light delicate glow from the outside was not what had made him awaken, as he blinked harshly when he heard the sound of.. something that he could not explain. He raised his head-raised it so he could see whatever had been making that sound. But when he had turned it, his dear enemy had not been on the floor. The hard, wooden floor that his enemy had usually slept upon held no sign of him anywhere.

Phillip then slowly turned his head to the direction of the incessant and most irritating sound he kept hearing, the sound that had caused him to wake was already driving him crazy. Crazy enough to even want to just punch whomever was making such a sound, and go back to sleep.

But alas, he only sighed when he saw the source of the sound. Y/N Burr had been making such a sound, though he himself was not the source. He was holding a paintbrush, and swishing his wand of color onto the canvas. Phillip raised a brow once he had managed to even process whatever he was painting. A candle? It was an odd thing to even want to paint.

"What are you doing?" Phillip would ask, his voice raspy and dry from the chains of slumber that would imprison him onto his bed. Y/N stopped moving his paintbrush, though Phillip could only guess that his blank and emotionless face would remain upon him so. "How long have you been awake?" Y/N had asked, not turning away from the painting.

"Only a few seconds-why?" Phillip asked, groaning as he struggled to lift himself up and release himself from the cell of exhaustion. "I would have been.. most frightened if I had learnt that you had been watching me for longer than i had thought you were." Y/N replied, continuing to paint on his canvas.

"And you still haven't answered my question.." Phillip grunted as he placed his left hand onto his left leg which had been covered by the sheet of his blanket, "what are you doing? Where the-where the hell did you get that canvas from?"

"I am playing the piano, what else would I be doing?" Y/N answered, his voice toned with obvious sarcasm. Such sarcasm only made Phillip sigh, and he shifted on the cushion of his bed, unsure of what he was to do now that he was awake.

"Aren't we supposed to be goin' out?" Phillip questioned, "Why the hell are you painting?"

"You had slept in." Y/N explained, "I had asked your parents if it would be alright to spend some time with you at your house instead of going out as per usual, and they accepted my request. But I do not plan on spending time with you as I had deceived them into thinking, so do not get any ideas."

Phillip groaned and grumbled as he hugged his legs close. "Your such a dick.." He breathed lowly, covering his mouth as he stared at Y/Ns back with his light blue eyes of roaring ocean blue. Y/N stopped swishing around his paint brush for a moment, and then, he turned his head, though not enough to maintain perfect eye contact with the freckled man.

"Would you like to spend time with me?" Those words echoed from Y/Ns mouth, his voice still icy and cold as if he were some sort of ice queen. Phillip widened his eyes slightly, yet he only furrowed his brows as if he were offended by such a suggestion. "'Course not, when do I ever?"

Y/N did not say anything for a few seconds. "My apologies for making such a misjudgement." He then turned back to the canvas, "It seems I have forgotten you have no redeeming qualities."

Phillip stared down at his knees, and then looked back at the painting man; "Do you want to spend time with me?"

His wand of color had ceased for a quick moment, such a delicate dance it had abruptly stopped. Phillip could have sworn that for a second he saw the man flinch at such a question, though of course, in a voice as cold as a blizzard;

"No, I do not believe I do."

Yet, for a moment, Phillip could have also sworn he heard his voice slightly break.

And then, Y/N painted away, resorting to painting the lit flame of the candle upon the canvas; not speaking another word for as long as they were in there.

----

Y/N Burr had sat alone at the dinner table, as he did wish himself to be alone for a bit. He did not truly intend on spending time with Phillip after all. The man had been such a pain to be with, and he was even more of a pain when one would have to be alone with him. He didn't understand why women even liked him. Had they gone mad? Were they perhaps brain damaged?

The way Phillip had smirked at him drove him crazy with every possible droplet of hatred on this earth, yet he kept calm, and did not let himself show any tremor of rage. He did not feel it was mature for a man such as himself to get angry with someone so unworthy as Phillip.

The house must have really been getting to him, if Phillip had contained his thoughts so. He would have gone mad with absolute rage in this house if it weren't for the sake of his family. He felt like breaking everything in the house anytime Phillip did something.

...

Y/N then heard a sound of a.. piano. Y/N saw a piano the night he had first arrived, and had assumed it to be probably the piano Phillip had even learned such a skill on. The song sounded delicate, the music sounded as if it were professional; though he could only assume such a beautiful song was coming from someone as hateful and spiteful as Phillip.

For some reason, curiosity burnt at the back of Y/Ns mind, and so, he stood up from the chair he had sat in; and began to follow wherever the song had been coming from. He knew where to go, as he did see the piano when he had come in. It wasnt far from the dining room, so he had no trouble.

And when he had peeked around the entrance of where it had been coming from, he saw Phillip Hamilton, sitting upon a chair and letting his fingers dance upon the keys. He sounded like he were a professional pianist, though Y/N did not want to admit that a man like him did.

Y/N leaned against the doorframe of where he had peeked in, and in an attempt to make himself less bored, he had asked; "What are you doing?" And of course, with a slam of Phillips fingers on the keys, it had worked.

Phillip slowly turned his head, and furrowed his brows as he pouted like a child; "Goddamnit, you messed me up!"

Y/N felt himself holding back a smile at the rather childish reaction, it was almost amusing to scare his enemy. He then stood up, and began to walk towards the seat Phillip had been sitting upon. "Why are you playing piano if there is no reason to?"

"Because I can, and I'd much rather not spend time with you." Phillip replied, looking up from the seat he had sat upon, "Why are you comin' in here if you have no reason to?"

Y/N paused. "My apologies. That was rather hypocritical of me to say."

"You've been apologizing a lot lately," Phillip smirked, "you warmin' up to me or somethin'?"

"In your dreams." Y/N rolled his eyes.

"I dunno man, you've been a lot softer these past few days." Phillip teasingly remarked. "If by softer, you mean sick of your shit." Y/N snapped, "Now would you kindly-"

"Woah!" Phillip chuckled, looking to be a mix of surprised and almost amused, "Someone's gettin' emotional. Maybe you aren't as emotionless as you think yourself to be after all~"

Y/N sighed and placed his fingers upon the keys. "And maybe you aren't as intelligent and brilliant of a man as you think yourself to be. So I shall prove myself to be better than you when it comes to your skills, if that shall keep you quiet."

"Oh? But didn't you say you were average at piano?" Phillip chortled.

"Yes, but not bad. And I am certain that I am better at you when it comes to such a skill. After all, a son of a bastard such as yourself could not be so great at such a high skilled thing, could you?" Y/N raised a brow, holding back a smug look.

"Really? Going after my pops now?" Phillip snarled with a hint of rage, "Okay, then let me prove it to you."

Phillip then pressed his fingers upon the keys, and began to let them dance along as they wished.

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