Letters - A Phillip Hamilton X Male Reader

Chapter 58: A Coffee Prank.

"Quicker, Phillip. She shall see us if you do not shake the bottle quick enough."

"Shh—I know, I know! Gimme a second!"

Phillip continued to shake the bottle of salt, the flakes still falling slowly like snow into the liquid of the mug. And afterwards, with a satisfied grin playing at his lips, he lifted the bottle back into his palm and shoved it rather hurriedly into his pocket. Y/N only stared blankly, something within his eyes shifting as if he were deep in thought.

His brows still furrowed, Y/N uttered with the same flat tone he always used, "..it is ironic, is it not? I am assisting my enemy in taking vengeance upon the woman within the city everyone despises—and I am assisting your plan of vengeance which is the same exact way you always get on my nerves."

"Oh, shut up, man—" Phillip rolled his eyes—he then threw his arm foward, and before Y/N could react, he felt Phillips hand wrap around his arm and yank him foward. "Now c'mon!" Phillip turned rapidly, and with his feet darting behind him, he rushed back toward the wall they had both been hiding behind.

As they approached closer and closer—Y/N couldn't help but wonder why his enemy wanted vengeance on the woman who hated him. After all, Phillip hated him, didn't he? He absolutely despised him. So why did he care so much about the status of his well-being?

In his mind, this question of his stayed. And before he knew it, he was behind the wall yet again, now crouched beside Phillip. Heavy breaths escaped Phillips mouth slightly, and he peeked behind the wall, the curly dark brown tendrils of his hair slightly sticking to his light brown skin. Phillip sighed, "Now all we gotta do is wait til she gets back.."

"..yes, we shall. I applaud you for pointing out such an obvious detail within the plan you have crafted, Phillip. I do not believe we would just stand there and watch while she—"

Phillip didn't say a word, but only shot him a glare, his brows furrowed and his lips drawn back into a snarl, his white teeth grinded against eachother as if he were some rabid animal. Y/N only raised his brows slightly at the way Phillip glanced at him. "..I take it that you would wish for me to be quiet. Very well.. I shall comply with what you desire."

"Yeah, no shit, Captain Obvious.."

"..."

"Not gonna make a smart comment back?"

"..."

"..huh. Looks like you're stayin' true to your words after all.. followin' your commands like a windup doll. No wonder people call you a freak."

Y/N's eyes slowly drew to the ground, and he let out a low hum. "..mm."

"Heh, would ya look at that? Somethin' came out of your mouth after a—"

Phillip then felt a sharp, but brief pain in his waist. It wasn't too painful of course—he only let out a quick but quiet yelp when he felt it. It didn't take him long to realize that the pain must have been from Y/N. Seemingly, Y/N had jabbed him in the waist with his elbow.

Phillip only clicked his tongue, and jabbed Y/N in the back with his elbow as well. Y/N let out a small grunt in return—and with a now more stern glare in his e/c eyes, he jabbed Phillip in his arm with his elbow, the force of the hit being harsher this time. Phillip let out a small gasp, but his tone turned malicious and low again. "Agh—you little—"

Phillip then felt himself being shoved to the side slightly, but not exactly in a harmful way. He arched a brow, "..what the hell do ya think you're—"

He then felt something being shoved over his mouth, a feeling of something that was at a surprisingly cold/warm temperature, and it felt oddly soft/rough, yet it was bigger than his mouth. It was Y/Ns own palm—pressed up against Phillips mouth as if to keep him quiet. Phillip began to try and speak frantically, but his speech was muffled by the force of Y/N's palm.

Y/Ns gaze looked.. different. It was still calm, yet there was an icy and stern look in his deep e/c eyes that made Phillip's attempt at speech go silent within an instant. Y/N spoke in a lowered voice, saying rather harshly, "Quiet, you damn rascal. Mary has returned. If you wish not to be seen, I would suggest keeping silent for a change."

Phillip blinked. Ah, that had been why Y/N had shoved his hand over his mouth. He furrowed his brows, and looked off to the side—pettiness bumbling within him. Why couldn't have Y/N just told him that instead of rudely shoving him? It wasn't his fault that he didn't notice things. He always just got so caught up in conversation.

"Do you understand?" Y/N asked, his voice cold as a piece of ice.

Phillip gulped, and nodded, his internal pride damaged from the submission he was showing to his own enemy. His enemy should have been the one bowing before him! Not him. Internally, he swore on getting his own vengeance for this insult once his plan had been finished for the day.

Y/N released his palm off of Phillips mouth—and while he did not say a word, he shot Phillip a look that still suggested for him to keep quiet. Phillip did not speak a word in reply, and with his lips and gaze trembling, he walked foward, and peeked behind the wall.

There Mary was—sitting at the table yet again, she glanced around, her ice-blue eyes clearly furious. Yet she was remaining quiet, her brows furrowed, and her hands placed politely against the surface of the table itself. The sounds of chattering from the bustling crowd of people on the street overlapped with the sound of the coffee shop. Mary opened her mouth to let out what looked to be a sigh, but alas, neither Phillip or Y/N could hear it.

She then reached foward, and grabbed the mug. Slowly, carefully, she brought it up toward her lips. Despite the chattering, the air grew thick, and both the enemies watched with their gazes fixed upon her from behind the wall.

The mug bowed toward Mary's lips, and presumably, the liquid made its way into her mouth.

...

Mary's eyes widened, and she then slammed the mug down, some of the liquid splattering onto the table. A rush of liquid came spewing out of her mouth in a quick blow—as quick as the bullet shooting from a pistol in a war. Y/N's eyes widened at the sight—Mary began to frantically swat at her own mouth, as if that would do her any good for the salt that had now beared itself inside of her coffee.

"What the—what the hell is this?!" She screamed, some onlookers passing by turning their attention to her.

Y/N then heard a sound coming from above him—from nearby, where Phillip stood. He knew without looking that the sound that was coming from Phillips mouth.. was the sound of laughter. The sound of obnoxious, mischevious laughter that sounded hushed, as if he were still trying to keep quiet. Though Y/N assumed he was due to not wanting to be seen.

Mary had been pranked, tricked, and deceived into drinking the coffee like a serpent having deceived a mere mortal into accessing something they shouldn't. It shouldn't have been funny, despite how much of a bad person she was, this shouldn't have been funny.

So why was it right then, Y/N found himself beginning to let out a few chuckles from his mouth?

Before the two knew it, their hushed laughter slightly mingled together, yet Y/N forced a palm over his mouth, trying to keep quiet. The expression on Mary's face—her widened eyes, the way she reacted, the way she spat out the coffee. Why on earth did it feel so amusing? The feeling of laughter felt heavy within Y/Ns chest, yet.. it felt great. A wide grin was now on Phillips lips, and Y/N struggled to keep his weak frown from turning into a soft smirk.

"That son of a.. he.. he put salt in my.." Mary then cried out in a prolonged manner, standing furiously up from her chair and still swatting at herself as the mug slightly moved, and splattered some liquid onto the skirt of her dress. "Burr!"

Y/N widened his eyes—it was as if hearing his own name pulled him back into reality. And before he knew it, his own hand wrapped around Phillips arm, and with the sound of masculine laughter now ceasing, he yanked him foward, dragging him away from the building so they wouldn't be seen.

//////////////////////
E