Don't Throw Away Your Shot

9. Gum, and chips, and soda, bread and dips

Lafayette POV

I lightly pushed the button next to the speaker to contact the driver, after a moment I heard the familiar click. "Could you take us to the mall, mon ami?" Sweet, innocent, Laurens looked in my direction, confused. He's never been in one of their fights, poor boy.

"Of course Mr Lafayette," he replied. I rolled my eyes at the formality. After leaning back in my chair I met the gaze of my friend.

"Well after Hamilton and Thomas," I gestured at Alexander, "had that fight, they wasted a lot of good food. I thought we could go buy some more. And we need to get you clothes," he nodded, rolling his eyes, "and I want some chardonnay." I grinned as the others laughed at my last comment.

"We are also getting beer. That wine is a little too fancy for me," Mulligan commented. I nodded.

"Aren't you under age though?" John spoke up, smiling.

I waved off his accusation, "I'm French. I drink all the time. Where I come from there is no such thing as a 'drinking age limit.'" He chuckled lightly at my response and leaned back in his seat. I closed my eyes for a minute, realising how tired I was. I thought back to night before last. I didn't remember much—I was drinking—but I did glean flashes of a passionate night with a lovely lady, and end was crystal clear.

FLASH BACK

"Marquis, don't leave," she murmured between light kisses on my chest.

"Mon cher, I must go. We cannot be discovered," I whispered, leaning to her ear, softly nibbling it afterwards.

She giggled then sighed. "I suppose you're right. My parents will be back soon." She bent over my head and locked lips with me for a few moments. I smiled and she rolled off of the bed and put on a silk robe. Looking at her alluring form, I got up and put on my clothes, not bothering to button my shirt. She turned back to me and caught me staring, to which I responded with a wink. She threw a pillow at my face. "Staring is rude, what would your mother say, Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette?"

I looked down somberly and breathed, "I don't know, mon amour, she died about five years ago."

"Oh...I'm sorry, I didn't know..." Her expression became a softer one.

    I put on a smile and simply said, "Non, it is okay. You did not know." She nodded, gently. I went over to her and kissed her cheeks. "Cheer up, mon chéri. Do not burden yourself with my pain."

    "I won't, I wasn't planning on it. But I am sorry, Marquis."

I shook my head. "'T'was an exhilarating night," I purred, trying to lighten up the mood again. I didn't like to dwell on sadness. She rolled her eyes and have a wry grin. "See you another time, mon amour."

She smirked. "Don't you wish, la prostituée." I gaped for a moment as she turned and opened the curtains and window. "Au revoir," she whispered, humour in her voice as she pushed me to them. I winked once more and blew her a kiss as I climbed out into the cool night. She laughed cheekily and I heard a click as she closed window. I got to take one last look at her beauty before she drew the curtains. I turned away and ran to the nearest bus stop, which, luckily, was only a few houses down.

Once I reached it I looked up to the stars and sighed longingly. I grabbed my phone (which, thank God, I had remembered to keep in my pants so I wouldn't forget this time) and checked the bus schedule to see if I had missed the last one. What is the time? 12:42, Marquis you dog, you were there for four hours, not including the dinner, I laughed to myself for a moment. I pulled up the local bus company's website and to my delight I found that they had one more coming this way and on the route which passed by Washington's house. I texted Hamilton: