Letters - A Phillip Hamilton X Male Reader

Chapter 63: An Assault.

"The hell do you think you're—"

As Phillip uttered that, his voice began to lower a little, mingling with the chatter of the customers within the resturant. A sharp glare from Y/N instinctively made his voice vanish, his hand tightening around Phillips arm. Phillip only stared for a moment, before taking a quick glance outside of the doors window.

For a few moments, there was only the sound of conversation from behind them—mingling questions, replies, japes. There was the scent of food, though out of every scent that was wafting within the interior, chocolate was the one Y/N found himself breathing in the most. The yellow-amber light from outside illuminated upon their faces—sights of random strangers walking past along the sidewalk.

The rather warm air of the resturant brushed against the two men's skin, yet despite the perspiration that began to form upon their bodies, they ignored it so, and continued to look outside. Within Y/N's mind—he found himself pondering if truly any of this would work, for after all, it was a plan executed by Phillip Hamilton. And a plan executed by Phillip Hamilton surely couldn't be a great one.

Y/N found himself glancing down as the thought of Mary possibly finding out that they were in the resturant clicked within his mind—and the thoughts of what she could do if she found out made his thoughts swirl with more anxiety. Yet he could not and would not give in, for a mature man as himself could not give into such emotions.

He was Y/N Burr, the son of a leader of the country he lived in. And she was Mary Swanson—merely a wealthy woman among the commoners of the city. And yet, she had the possibility of harming his family.

These thoughts then vanished—for a familiar figure began to walk back toward the table outside. Platinum blonde hair, ice-blue eyes. Y/N knew that face immediately, and his head raised as he managed to process who it was. Mary Swanson, walking back toward her table.

"Here we go.."

"Shh."

"What? It ain't like she's gonna hear us, right? We're in here—"

"I'm aware of that."

"Then why'd you shush me?"

"..I need not any reason to explain. Now, quiet."

Phillip only rolled his eyes. Y/N would have expected one last retort from him, but this time, he didn't say a word. Only staring outside as Mary approached her table closer. Of course, such silence was needed, for Phillip Hamilton always seemed more bearable whenever he didn't speak a word. Though in a way, it felt oddly wrong to see him being quiet.

Alas, Y/N continued to watch Mary from within the interior.

When she finally got close enough to her table, Y/N could see that from on her pale face, her brows were furrowed, and her eyes were fixed into a scowl. She was glancing in another direction, and slowly, she slumped back into the wooden seat in front of the table. She let out a sigh, and her hand reached foward as her mouth moved. Seemingly, she was saying something, but Y/N couldn't hear it from within the building.

Her hand then wrapped itself around the mug, and she brought it to her lips—seemingly, she was just going to drink the liquid beneath the ivory and silk tinted cream, and the mug began to bow foward—

"Sirs?"

A voice from behind Phillip and Y/N spoke. At a fast pace, Phillip quickly turned his head, his eyes wide and nervous. Y/N turned nervously as well, yet he seemed to do it a little bit more calmly than Phillip had. Though when they processed what the person exactly was, a slight bit of relief tingled within them, yet at the same time, anxiety lifted in their chest.