Best Of Wives And Best Of Women: Alexander Hamilton X Reader

~~Chapter Thirty-Four~~ {Alexander's Point Of View}

Author's Note-- This might be the only chapter that is in Alexander's point of view. Do not worry, the next chapter will be back to Y/N's point of view.

       The cold air hit my face as Jefferson shut the door behind him, Burr, and Madison. The wind was strong enough to blow out the candle in my office, leaving me in the dark. It was dark enough for me to project my thoughts in a realistic way—so realistic that I could sense it. That I could feel the salty water hit my face when the Hurricane hit.

       In the eye of the hurricane there is quiet, for just a moment—a yellow sky.

       The wind rushed through the people running at the same speed, desperate to reach their homes and put up the hurricane windows. I had to reach Ann Mitchell. She was alone with her servants at her home, probably helpless in this situation.

       When I was seventeen a hurricane destroyed my town—I didn't drown. I couldn't seem to die.

       I opened the door and immediately ran to help Ann nail in the boards. The servants were cowering in a corner as the heavy rain poured through the open windows. Once we finished, I left Ann and headed outside, hopping on my horse and racing to my uncle's house. The roofing of many houses missed me and my horse by mere centimeters. We kept going. We arrived at my uncle's home—I helped him prepare for the hurricane and tried to leave. He insisted that I stayed until the hurricane passed, but then I reminded him that Ann was alone in her home, so he let me go. My legs took me as fast as they could to arrive at the Mitchell's winter home. Me and Ann stayed inside, trying to survive the natural disaster. After a few hours, the rain stopped pounding on the roof. We had survived, but most of the small buildings had not. Hugh Knox told me to write my feelings about the hurricane. I did.

       I wrote my way out—wrote everything down far as I could see.

       Hugh read the letter I had written, describing it as 'literary' and 'poetic'. He showed it to fellow comrades, and eventually all of Christiansted had read my letter. The 'Hurricane Letter'.

       I wrote my way out—I looked up and the town had its eyes on me. They passed a plate around. And total strangers, moved to kindness by my story raised enough for me to board passage on a ship that was New York bound.

       The sea's salty wind flowed all around me. Once Hugh and Ann and everyone from Christiansted disappeared from my sight, I immediately felt a bit home-sick. But I know that I have to be strong. The townspeople did not raise money for nothing.

       I wrote my way out of hell, I wrote my way to revolution, I was louder than the crack in the bell.

       The people of New York stood around me, waiting for some great speech. I cannot deny, I feel a bit nervous. What if I cannot come up with anything? At the moment, I feel like rushing into the crowd and disappearing. However, I will not do such a thing. I opened my mouth and began to speak, the words eventually flowing easily out of my mouth. I watched as the people around me began to nod their heads in agreement. They were on my side.

       I wrote Y/N love letters until she fell.

       My dearest, Alexander,

               I apologize, but I still do not believe that you have these feelings for me. That night at the Winter's Ball, I saw the way your eyes stuck onto Eliza's, you were in love. There was something between the two of you, don't try to deny the truth. She was utterly helpless and you were content. So no, I do not believe that you love me. It's evident that you love her. Do not bring my hopes up just to push them down when you decide to court Eliza.

                    Your obedient servant,

                            {First Initial}. {Last Name}

       My eyes were not deceiving me. Y/N wrote a comma after 'dearest'. Although I deeply wish that she had done this on purpose, I know that this was an accident. Still, I cannot help but feel that a part of her meant it. So I will write to her until she can write this phrase with full knowledge and consent and meaning.

       My dearest, Y/N,

             I couldn't help but notice, my dear, your use of a comma after a phrase. As much as I would like to believe that this was intentional, I have full knowledge that this was accidental. I recommend that you proofread the letters you send to me, Y/N. The next time I might not know the truth behind the letter. Anyway, all this to say, I am growing impatient on your disbelief in my love for you. I wish, my dear Y/N, "it might be in my power, by action rather than words, to convince you that I love you." I love you with as much strength as the Greek God Zeus, and, with no disrespect to the Greek's beliefs, possibly even greater. Please, get those three powerful words through your stubborn mind. It would create great joy in my life.

                         Your great love,

                                               A. Ham

       I wrote about the constitution and defended it well. And in the face of ignorance and resistance I wrote financial systems into existence. And when my prayers to God were met with indifference, I picked up a pen, I wrote my own deliverance. In the eye of a hurricane there is quiet, for just a moment—a yellow sky. I was ten when my mother died. She was holding me, we were sick and she was holding me. I couldn't seem to die.

       My mother coughed sickly as she held me in her arms, reassuring me that we would be ok. My younger brother waited outside the room, still too little to understand what was going on. I eventually got better and conquered the sickness. My mother did not.

       Wait for it.......

       I'll write my way out.......

       Wait for it.......

       Write everything down far as I can see.......

       "Stay......."

       "If not, I'm telling your wife."

       "If you pay, you can stay......."

       "Say no to this."

       "Nobody needs to know."

       History has its eyes on you.......

       I'll write my way out. Overwhelm them with honesty. THIS is the eye of the hurricane—THIS is the only way I can protect my legacy.......

       Wait for it.......

       Wait for it.......

       Wait for it.......

       Wait.......

       "The Reynolds Pamphlet."