Let Me Inside Your Heart || Jamilton

Conflict

In the eye of a hurricane there is quiet.

For just a moment.

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After that night, things seemed more relaxed around the place. Sure, there were occasional spats, but that was just the two men being equally stubborn. But they actually had meaningful, friendly conversations rather than vicious, screaming arguments that would occur any time (previous to the fire) that the men saw each other. It was a nice change. Alexander even enjoyed living with Thomas - though he would never admit it. It was just nice to actually socialise. Even if it was with Thomas Jefferson.

One evening, Thomas was pacing the house. He kept going back and forth. It was Friday, and the tall man seemed bored out of his wits. Alexander had just continued working the day before, so he was highly annoyed at the distraction of Thomas periodically knocking and asking if he needed anything. At one point he yelled, "Yeah, Thomas, I need a break!"
He didn't stop.

It was eight o'clock in the evening when Alexander finally decided he'd had enough. He saved his document, slammed his laptop shut, and left his room to confront Thomas. "Ah! I was just about to check on you." Alex rolled his eyes as he approached the dark-skinned man. "If you're this bored, you should probably go out and do something. Go to a bar. Get laid. For Christ's sake, just get out." "Yes! Oh Alex, that's an excellent idea! We should go to a bar." Alex crossed his arms. "I said you, not me." "You're coming. Go get ready!" Thomas had a cute grin across his face. His eyes were pleading. He obviously wanted him to come. It almost compelled Alex to go, when he felt it.
That slight flutter in his chest. Normally, Alexander would've protested to this as usual and move along. But something inside him clicked. His mind snapped.

"How about you fuck off?"

Sure, Alex had said such words before. But never with such venom. With such hatred that didn't stem from just an argument or sleep deprivation. These words came from deep inside him - a personal level. Something in the scholar's eyes changed. He was glaring daggers, sharpened by hatred.
And he had no idea why.
Thomas's look of hurt was only present for a split second before it was replaced by anger. "Well I'm sorry for trying to get you out of this damn house! All you do is fucking sit around! I'm nice enough to let your sorry ass stay here and you can't even show any respect!" "Just because I won't go with you?!" "That's not the point anymore!" Then both of them took a deep breath, shouting at the exact same time.

From Alex came words once again filled with hate. "God, won't you leave me alone?!"
Thomas's tone was more pleading, exasperation lying beneath the rage. "God, can't we just get along?!"

With that, Alex took off, slamming the door behind him. He wasn't sure where he was going to go, but he just wanted to get away. Away from Jefferson. He got into his car and drove. Streetlights illuminated his path, as the sky had turned black and the moon was covered by thick grey clouds. In a moment's decision, he decided where he was going to go.
It was stupid of course, because that's where Thomas wanted him to go -
But he was much too proud to go back and apologise. That, and he was still pissed.
He was going to get drunk.

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Morning sunlight streamed from the sky, filtering in through a window. The room was painted a pleasant pale golden by the sun, looking lovely on the white walls. A dog barked outside. Traffic was light this morning.

And Alexander was confused.

The first thing he noticed was the intense pain in his ass. It was so much that he didn't even want to walk. And he had no idea what may have caused that. The second thing he noticed was that he wasn't in his own fucking bed.

He tried desperately to remember. He must have had a one night stand with some man or woman. By the way he was feeling, it was safe to assume that it was a man. But whoever it was wasn't around right now. The bed in which he lay was in use by only him at this moment. He was covered by a fluffy white comforter. He heard the sound of a door opening and looked around, trying to find the source of the noise.

A man who looked around his age was standing there. He had just emerged from what Alex assumed to be a bathroom. His hair was wet and he was wearing only some shorts and a T-shirt. His eyes were brown like Alexander's, but rather than having the look of warm coffee, they seemed more like... cold hardwood. His hair was a dark blond. He was quite tall - definitely taller than Alexander (not that that was much of an accomplishment) but not quite as tall as Thomas.
Thomas.
He decided not to think about hin.

When the man standing across from him made eye contact with Alexander, a horrible feeling shook him, and he didn't know why. The man saw that Alex was awake and cast him a friendly smile. "Morning!" He said. "Aha, you look confused. Do - do you remember anything?" Alex shook his head, feeling guilty. "Oh, that's okay. Maybe you at least remember my name?" Alex again shook his head, glancing off to the side. "Oh..." His face fell for a moment but immediately returned to that cute smile. "The name's Preston. You came home with me last night. Heh... How about I make us some breakfast? We can talk over some bacon and eggs." Before he even had time to reply, Preston was off to the kitchen.

Okay, what the actual hell? Alex was baffled. Since when did the person who you fucked without even knowing their name offer you breakfast? Usually there was a silent message - you need to leave. Preston, though, was conveying the opposite signal.
But why?