Win His Heart - Historical Lams

One - I

John Laurens sat on a tree stump near the camp, only about a fifth of a mile away. He drew a picture of a bird on a snowy branch, looking up a few times to see the details of the bird in front of him, then drawing more.

As John finished the drawing, after about an hour, he looked up at the bird again and watched it hop around, another bird flying down and landing next to it. John smiled softly, enjoying this peaceful and quiet environment. He and some of the other Aide de Camps had a break right now, so he decided to spend his away from the commotion and do what he liked to do.

Then he heard a familiar sound of horseshoes hitting the floor, trotting towards him. He looked up to see his best friend and fellow Aide de Camp, Alexander Hamilton. John smiled softly, figuring Alex just got on a break as well, though he was a little shocked Alex wasn't working anyway.

He giggled softly once he saw the resemblance between Alex and his horse, the curly, reddish brown locks of Alex, and the same color fur of his horse. It was quite amusing, but also a cool detail.

"Hey there, love," Alex said with his natural charming smile, putting his horse to a stop once he reached his position a few feet in front of John. He flirted like this regularly, ever since he and John became great friends. He's had his eyes on John for a while now, ever since he's met him. He'd been flirting for weeks, yet John refused and rejected him, but not too harshly as to hurt Alex.

John stood and gave Alex a soft smile, setting his drawing and art utensils on the stump. He walked up to the head of Alex's horse and stroked its mane softly. John wasn't usually a super soft and kind person, though he could be, but he's always had a soft spot for animals. "Hey, Alex," John replied softly, the nickname Alex gave him running through his mind. He liked it but wished not to be called it from someone other than his lover, which he had not one at the moment.

"What're you doing out here?" Alex asked, his natural charm lacing his voice. As he watched John stroke the horse's mane, he couldn't help but wish it was his own hair instead. John's soft fingers running through his hair as he relaxed, but Alex felt quite silly for being jealous of a horse.

John chuckled softly as he got a closer look at the horse's fur, noticing how close it really did look like Alex's. "I was just drawing a bird on one of those branches," he answered, tilting his head to the tree he was talking about. As he petted the horse, his mind began to go elsewhere without meaning to.

Alex chuckled softly as well, knowing John's love for drawing. He once stumbled upon John's drawings in their shared tent, he found drawings of only nature; trees, flowers, plants, and a lot of birds. He was impressed by John's good hand, the great drawings making him fall in love more for a reason he didn't understand. "You and your birds," he teased, "but why draw when you could be kissing me?"

To someone else, especially a man, this would seem bold, but this was natural and unsurprising teasing from Alex. However, John's cheeks flushed a very soft pink, only because of his surprise at the forwardness of the question. He turned his head to Alex and looked up, due to him being on the horse still. "You're awfully cocky for a man who's getting nowhere with his attempts to win over my heart," John commented with a smirk.

"It'll work someday, John," Alex said calmly, "I promise you that. You love it and I see it in your beautiful, blue eyes." However, the truth was Alex wasn't sure at all. He was too arrogant and stubborn to not at least act like this would go his way. He loved John deeply, but it was crystal clear the love was one-sided and would probably always be. However, Alex kept trying.

John rolled his eyes playfully at how confident Alex was that he would get his way. He loved Alex dearly as a friend, but sometimes he found him too overconfident and cocky. Part of John loved this about Alex, though he would never admit it aloud. "Keep telling yourself that," John said sarcastically, leaning his shoulder against the tree he was next to.