Letters - A Phillip Hamilton X Male Reader

Chapter 50: A Most Irritating Woman.

Y/N let his exhaustion out of his lips, sighing and placing a palm on his head—"But in any case, we shall be continuing to head where I had decided for us to go next. I do not plan on standing around here and possibly waiting for another outburst. She'll start calling me a stalker if i stand out here with you any longer." Y/N left his arms crossed, only arching a brow as he looked at Phillips clearly pissed off face.

Phillip only clicked his tongue and crossed his arms in return, "Oh, shut up man. You want me to fuckin' leave you here? With that attitude, you might as well be tellin' me you want me to." Y/N blankly stared ahead at Phillips light blue eyes, "Normally, I would say no, but the thought of not being left with you sounds rather pleasing."

"I—"

"Hush. Don't give me another reason to say I'd like to be left here. If anything, I should just leave you here—it would be rather amusing to see how you even manage to function without my voice of reason."

"Oh, don't be so cocky, dumbass—I can be without you just fine." Phillip snarled in return, clenching his fists as he released his arms from the other. Y/N rolled his eyes as he took one step close to his freckled enemy, "And yet, you always search for me when I'm without you. Either you truthfully do need me, or perhaps you want me."

"What the hells that supposed to me—"

"I do not feel like arguing with you at the moment. Now come on."

"Bu—but you were just arguing with me a few mi—"

Phillip did not get to finish his sentence, as he then suddenly felt a pressure on his arm. And before he knew it, he had been dragged off yet again, into the sunshine abyss. Presumably, an hour had passed—and yet, for whatever reason, it hadn't felt that long. Perhaps Phillip was having.. no, no, of course he wasn't. Why would he be? Especially with Y/N.

For now, Phillip could only allow himself to be dragged along like a dog on a leash, obeying their master thoroughly.

————

The duo had walked into the city once more, Phillip slightly stumbling as Y/N physically forced him to go wherever he needed to be.

Occasionally, his grip would sometimes soften had he been speaking to Phillip, and then he would clench down more harshly once more. Phillip had to admit—it was rather entertaining. He had taken that softening touches would usually mean he was losing focus—that was a rather interesting trait for his enemy to have, that was for sure. Perhaps he could use it for his own amusement?

"Why are you always so rough with me?" Phillip asked, barely managing to keep his voice at a normal tone due to Y/Ns constant turns and constant change in pace. Y/Ns grip had once again softened against Phillip sleeve for a moment, and he held back slight chortles of laughter that would erupt from his lip had he not kept his composure.

"You are hard to keep track of, so it is best I find some way to keep you close." Y/N had answered with those words, before his grip would once more harden against Phillips sleeve. Phillip slightly tensed in reply, though he only once again continued to speak as he always did. Ah, he was quite the talkative man, yet he astonished so many.

"Why's that? You wanna keep me close?~" His tone was practically laced with mischief, earning a rough sigh from Y/Ns mouth, though his grip had once more softened against the fabric of Phillips sleeve. "No, I do not wish to, but your father requires us to spend time with one another. So unfortunately, I have to." Y/N replied, slightly turning his head.

"Your confession from earlier says otherwise—"

"Shut it!"

"Sheesh, fine. No need to lose all of your sudden vocabulary because of me. You didnt even take up an entire paragraph this time—"

"That insult doesn't make sense, therefore, I will not be speaking to you."

"Your loss."

Y/N quietly murmured something in response, causing Phillip to give a soft smirk. "Heh, and i thought you said you weren't talking to me." Y/Ns grip had hardened once more. Phillip had opened his mouth to make another teasing remark, but—

"What on earth was that for?!"

A familiar voice had yelled that out from amongst the crowds of the brilliant and gigantic New York City, causing silence to mingle within the crowds of people. Y/N lifted his head up, in immediate recognition of who it had been. Immediately, he began to turn the direction the voice had come from, and began to let himself and Phillip mingle within the crowds to get a closer look at.. whatever had been happening.

"Please. I spilled coffee on you because you were getting in my way, no big deal."

And of course, Y/N had recognized that already sparky yet feminine voice too. Furrowing his brows, he let himself barge into the front of the crowd, not caring that he had let go of Phillips arm. He had heard Phillip say something from behind, though he hadn't been listening.

The situation had been clear; it had been his dear friend, John, and worst of all, Mary Swanson. John had been layed upon the rocky streets of the city, his legs sprawled against the concrete. A deep brown stain had been formed upon his clothing, though mostly the lower parts of it. And Mary had been standing right in front of him, her hands on her hips.

"I was trying to apologize for bumping into you, Madame!" John desperately explained as crowds of people watched, "I did not do anything to deserve this sort of treatmen—"

His voice had clearly been mixed into sharp cries of pain—Y/Ns eyes widened. He could hear Phillip asking him why he had left him behind from behind his back, though his voice quickly hushed as he watched the sight playing out before the crowds. The crowd had either gasped, or let out cries of empathetic agony.

Mary had kicked him in the face with her heel, a red mark being slashed across his face from the sheer force. Y/N did not wait around this time. And upon instinct, he rushed forth to be the hero of the situation. He could hear other footsteps, rushing forth to the scene as well. He leaned down, placing a hand on John's face. "Y/N?" John had gasped.

"Yes, it is me—it is me. Hold on, I'll get you up." Y/N softly breathed, placing another arm around John's upper torso, lifting him upwards so he could study what injury he had been dealt closer, and bandage him of his very recent injury. As men whom had rushed forth tried to confront Mary; she had begun to squeal in that annoying pitched voice. Oh, that voice, everyone had despised.

"Are you assaulting me?!" Mary whined as if she were some sort of child—even though the men were clearly only lightly brushing their hands against her wrist, incase they would need to restrain her. "Help! These men are attacking me!" She'd whine. This was the thing with Mary. She'd act all confident and snarky one moment, yet the next, she'd cower and turn into a complete wimp when faced with consequences.

Nonetheless, Y/N had ignored her most irritating cries, and began to rush John fowards into the crowd, toward Phillip whom had only been watching, his stance wide as if he were going to have to do something. "Phillip, I do not care for any irritating remarks you'd like to make right now, we must bring him to your house so we can bandage him."

Phillip only nodded, his eyes still widened—what had he been shocked at? Mary? The injury? Or perhaps Y/Ns sudden display of kindness? "Nah, nah—you go ahead and bring him there, I'll catch up with you."

"What.. what are you thinking of doing?"

"Doesn't matter, just go!"

Y/N only cared for the possible bandaging of his dear friends injury, so he, for the first time, obeyed Phillips pleads and began to jog as quickly as he could—John still scooped slightly in his arms. Though as they got a mere few feet away from the crowd, Y/N had heard Phillips voice beginning to yell. Angrily.

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