Stories Undone, Scars Unseen // Hamilton College AU

Thomas (41)

Look who's back!!!! That's right, it's us! Anyway, thanks all of you for being patient and I hope you guys have been having a GREAT winter! -C

Pretty sure I can't keep pretending I'm not sick. James keeps watching me like a hawk too. Ugh.

I sluggishly raise my head. "Go away."

"No." His short reply comes. He cocks an eyebrow. "I'll make a deal with you. If you can even try and forcibly remove me, I'll go."

I chuck a pillow at him.

"No that doesn't count."

"It was a try." I pause to sneeze. "And a show of force."

"You didn't even stand up. It doesn't count." James stifles a laugh.

I glare at my closest friend. "That should be enough. Not really holding up on your end of the deal."

I awkwardly throw the blankets off so I can sit up. I sway slightly but glare nonetheless.

He gently puts a hand on my shoulder to push me back down. "Thomas Jefferson. You're sick. Accept it."

"I'm not though." Sneezing immediately isn't really helping my case. I roll over to not face him before loudly groaning.

"Can I get you something?" James asks.

I grunt. "Long as if it's not one of those psycho-analytic questions."

"I mean like food. Or water or something. Do you have a fever?"

"What?" I blearily blink at him. Never mind. He did not say 'Can I ask you something?' I'm going insane. "No, I don't have a fever."

He presses the back of his hand to my forehead and gasps. "Liar!"

"I'm naturally hot to everyone." I wink at him, trying not to look as much as crap as I feel.

James gives me a withering glare. "Lucky for you, I brought everything we need."

"Don't need anything though..." I grab his hand and try to drag him down. "Just don't do anything! Medicine is gross to my refined palate."

To my surprise, he gives my hand a light squeeze. "You're still going to have the body of a model if you take some medicine, Tommy."

"Aw, shucks, Jemmy. Making me blush." That... Is actually... Not sarcastic for once.

"I'm sure." His hand slips from my grasp as he goes into his room to grab the bag.

I don't want to get up, but I'm severely tempted to lock him out. Then again, there are worse people playing nursemaid. Better him than Angelica or anyone. I trust Jemmy so much more.

He comes back in with the bag, smiling softly. He sits on the edge of my bed, beginning to look through the bottles and such.

"If you do anything, I'll just go downstairs and puke at the sight of Alex and John and reduce all your medicinal crap."

"If I do anything?"

"Force me to take medicine I don't need or anything along those lines."

"You can't even stand up to go downstairs," he protests.

I flippantly wave my hand. "Just don't want to look at Hamilton's disgusting face."

"He doesn't want to see your face either, so it works."

"Anyway, that's why I'm not going downstairs. I could walk if I wanted to," I bluster, knowing that in all likelihood, I probably have no chance.

"Do you want to?" He smirks.