Sickness ♡ㅤ (Jamilton)

♡ㅤ Chapter 6 ♡ㅤ

The next morning, the ailing man blinked his eyes open, causing his head to pound. Nonetheless, he heard an unfamiliar sound. No, it was familiar. Could it be..?

The sound of indistinct voices going back and forth could be heard from somewhere in the house. Then, Alexander glanced at the door as a dainty pale figure emerged through it.

Why, it was Eliza.

Alexander furrowed his eyebrows. "Home early..?" He mumbled. She walked up to him and she placed the back of her hand on his forehead for a moment. "Yes.. It seems that our children cause more trouble than we give them credit for. We were forcibly removed from the family home we were staying at." Eliza muttered, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, gracefully.

Alexander hummed softly. "Wha..." He inhaled gently, trying to combat his headache that was being intensified by this newfound information. "What happened...?"

"Phillip and Angelica (Jr.) had many quarrels.. Of course, that wasn't the end of it. James and Alex..." She explained, retracing the days. "James and Alex (Jr.) had a fist fight in the middle of the night.. That's when we started to make our way back as they did not want us present any longer." She concluded, taking a deep breath.

Alexander had been almost zoning out as his wife spoke. His headache was getting no better and the talk of his not-so-angelic offspring did not help. Alexander groaned. "Urgh.. So, is that them? That horrid noise?" Alexander murmured, massaging his head.

Eliza inhaled sharply. "Oh, dear. You can hear them?" She asked.

Alexander continued to massage his aching head. "It seems to have woken me up, dear." Alexander admitted, softly.

"I'll go hush them up." Eliza said, making her way out of the bedroom and closing the door behind herself.

Alexander let out a little sigh as Eliza left the room. She was back already? Oh, no. What about Thomas? Surely he'd come over and it would be catastrophic.. Unless..

Alexander, despite his migraine, sat up. He drowsily made his way upstairs. He got a few glances from his children and they all stopped talking if he were to walk past them. They could tell their father was on autopilot mode. Alexander was almost zombie-like.

He entered his home office and closed the door firmly. The door couldn't lock, so he would make it difficult to open. Just in case.

Alexander sluggishly waltzed over to his desk and took a seat. It was then that he laid out a new sheet of paper and grabbed his quill, dipping it in ink.

Then he started writing.

"Thomas Jefferson,

I regret to inform you that my fair maiden has returned. Earlier than I expected, she is back. Along with my several children. So, with this being said, I hope you remember our plan that I briefly discussed with you while I was fatigued. No more breaking into my home during the day, you imbecilic idiot. You're to come during the night, only if you please. If something comes up, or we are separated for a prolonged amount of time, then we write to each other. Do you comprehend this, my dear, Thomas? I surely hope you do.
In any sense, this stunts your plans, not mine. So, if you wish to see me, then please follow the instructions I provided for you. I cherish you.

Sincerest regards,
A. Hamilton"

It was passive aggressive, but that's how the smaller man communicated. Especially to Thomas. Alexander decided that he could have his eldest son forward the letter to Thomas' address. He trusted him not to read it.

Alexander folded his writing and placed it in an envelope which he addressed accordingly. He then made his way downstairs to look for Phillip. Then he saw him.