Soulmate AU's (Hamilton)

Black and White (Washette)

It was a normal day at the office for Washington, everything was going great. Alexander and Jefferson got into a fight, like always, but Washington had nipped that rose in the bid before it could bloom into nothing but violent chaos. 

Washington was walking down the hall, looking over some papers in his hands. He admired the blue ink scribbled neatly over the papers. He looked up, and out the window at the green of the swaying trees, and the bright vibrant blue of the sky. He sighed, content, knowing that somewhere, his Lafayette was doing something happily. Washington smiled widely. 

Washington thought back to his bright, curly headed, sparkling eyed Marquis De Lafayette, his soulmate. He marveled over the way Lafayette would giggle and snort while he laughed, or the way he'd try to cover his mouth in doing so. 

The way Lafayette could light up a room simply by smiling, or the way he could go from a bubbly French immigrant barley speaking English, to a serious fluent Frenchman who knew exactly what to do and how to do it. 

The simple way Lafayette never tried to look beautiful, he just always did. George would sit and watch his eyes crinkle, and his small, barley noticeable dimples form. The laugh lines from years of fantastic, dorky laughter etched there for eternity. Or how his eyes would pop out of his head, cheeks flushing darkly when he accidentally forgot a word, or slipped into French unwillingly. 

Washington walked into his office, setting the papers down and sorting a few files into cabinets. He looked at his agenda for the day, before sitting in his seat and sighing happily. Just a few more hours, and he'd be home free. On his way to spend the remaining hours of the day with his soulmate, his perfect Lafayette. Washington smiled to himself, opening his computer and simply gazing at his lock screen of Lafayette, cliche he knows. 

Before Lafayette... before accidentally brushing in the hall and finding that burst, that utter amazement of color, George had never known what it was like to smile for no reason. To be utterly pissed at something Alexander and Thomas did, but to automatically have Lafayette do nothing more than touch his hand, and have all that anger drip out threw his shoes. George absolutely loved it, but refused to admit to anyone other than the Frenchman himself, that Lafayette had that much power over him. 

He was amazing... the Marquis, he... he had changed something in George. Lafayette had set free the innocent child George had once been, he had whipped away all the stress of being a president, the stress of having the entire country sitting on his shoulders. Lafayette was, perfect. He took George's breath away, and at the same time filled his lungs with fresh air. 

George couldn't imagine his life without Lafayette. George looked around at the browns of his office, the brilliant white of the paper, then he looked to the hall. The bright, vibrant purple of Thomas's suit, and the green of Alexander's.  It was impeccable how incredible everything looked. George thought back onto the first time he and Lafayette had seen color. The first time they had bumped in into each other and color burst forth. Neither of them noticed at first, but they understood it soon enough. 

George hadn't slept in a week. He was drowsy, and was stumbling down the hall. The stress had gotten to him, and he almost couldn't take it. He was stumbling down the hall, mindlessly, looking at files in his hands. George had sighed, folding them up and tucking them under his arms. The elevator had broke, so the stairs were his next best option to get  to his next meeting. He took a long drink from his long cold coffee, and began the trudge down the stair case. Lafayette had been coming up the other way, joking with one of the spies, Hercules, as they walked, bumping into each other and laughing all the while.

George smiled as he walked past, loving the energy the two brought, the positive energy that is. Hamilton and Jefferson brought negative energy, and Hamilton and Laurens only brought sexual tension. While sure he they were soulmates, he was glad, thankful that Lafayette and Hercules were so, pleasant.