Sickness ♡ㅤ (Jamilton)

♡ㅤ Chapter 7 ♡ㅤ

Eliza made her way to the front door and she swiftly opened it. She glanced side to side, but she didn't see anyone. Confused, she almost shut the door; although, she ultimately glanced at the ground to find an envelope.

She picked it up and read, "To Alexander Hamilton."

Great. Another letter for her husband. She'd be damned if she didn't expect the letter to be from her older sister, Angelica. Curiously, she unfolded the envelope and took out the letter. Her eyes immediately skipped to the bottom of the page and to her surprise, it read,

"T. Jefferson"

"T. Jefferson?" She thought.

Peculiar. Didn't Alexander hate that man? She craved an answer. And who better to satisfy that craving than Alexander himself?

She closed and locked the door. Then, she made her way to the back of the house, where the ill Alexander was awake at his desk, writing something ambiguous. He sniffled as she walked in with the letter in hand. He didn't quite notice her presence at first.

Alexander continued to write until Eliza cleared her throat and glared at him. Alexander flinched, but ultimately glanced up at the woman standing at his doorway. His gaze met hers.

For a moment, he stared at her as if he was expecting her to speak. "Yes, dear?" Alexander queried, placing his quill in ink.

Eliza replied, "Well, you received a letter–"

Alexander interjected, "O-Oh! That's work business, dear. Lend it over to me."

Eliza waltzed over to the sickly man and hesitantly handed him the envelope, of which she had recently refolded. Alexander slipped it under the desk. Eliza asked in a muttering tone, "Why is.. Thomas Jefferson.. sending you a letter?"

Alexander's breath hitched. "Hm?" He shakily hummed, feigning innocence. Eliza continued, "That letter.. It's issued by Thomas Jefferson. I know you and him aren't.. on the best terms. So, why is he sending you a letter?"

Alexander swallowed. How could she have known that the letter was from Thomas? She'd been snooping in his mail, he thought. He quickly and weakly retaliated, "It's work business, Eliza. I told you that already, dear." His voice was croaky and tired.

Eliza furrowed her eyebrows. "But, you haven't been to work?" She argued.

In response, Alexander began to violently cough. Eliza stared down at her husband, skeptically. She ultimately, hesitantly patted his back as he coughed. "I'll go make you tea." Eliza muttered before leaving the room and closing the door behind herself.

When she left, Alexander rubbed his throat, pained. He let out a soft groan and face planted on his desk. He didn't have time for this, he thought. No, he should stop thinking like that. He's got time.

Alexander reached under his desk and slipped out the envelope. Of course he noticed it'd been opened. He had hoped that his wife didn't read it.

He unfolded the envelope and took the letter out, unfolding the note as well. After reading it over, he sighed.

Almost as a reaction to his situation, he was struck with a pounding ache in his whole body. It wasn't very pleasant. He laid his head on the desk and dozed off.

A few hours later, he shot up. His glasses tilting to the side subtly. He rubbed his forehead and groaned softly, glancing out the window. It could be no earlier than evening out there. It was pitch black; not to mention it was the summertime.

Alexander weakly took a stand and drowsily made his way downstairs. The floorboards creaking with every step. Luckily, his children were all asleep, it seemed, as he passed their bedrooms.