Hamilton ~ One Shots

Forest

Fairy Tale ~ an art therapist ~ "do not leave me." ~ 750 minimum

also i have no idea what the fuck this is

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Thomas walked into the wooden hollow quietly. He didn't know if anyone was even there, but he stayed silent just in case.

The purple and teal leaves were colored yellow and orange by the suns rays. The thick, intricate trunks that held the leaves were also washed orange with the suns strong beams. The only noise the tall man heart was a bird chirping, its sharp chirp filling the forest, bouncing off of the tree trunks.

"Erm- hello?" Thomas asked, ducking under low branches of willow trees with white flowers, looking confused. One of his friends, George, in the nearby town told him to go see a therapist--or an art therapist--as his friend described.

Thomas just stared at the ground, paying close attention to how his feet moved and how the grass crumpled under him. Thomas heard a fast rushing noise through the thick leaves above him and stared up into the trees, his eyes searching from where the noise came from.

Then, all of a sudden, a smaller man, darker than Thomas, fell from the trees, landing skillfully on the ground in front of Thomas. He was kneeling down in front of the taller, thick haired man. The mysterious boy in front of Thomas didn't look up from the ground, and Thomas couldn't keep his eyes off of the handsome man that fell from the trees, or maybe from heaven? He looked like an angel, so that must be the answer.

Thomas looked around them quickly, then stepped forward and tapped the kneeled over man. He tapped his shoulder and bent to his height, "Um? Are you alright?" His Virginian accent was thick and sincere. His eyes were sharp and inquisitive, studying every aspect of the new mans hair. His hair was short, almost black, and was slightly parted on his right side, just to where you could barely see his scalp. He was absolutely gorgeous when he lifted his head up.

The suns rays connected with the mans skin, making it look like sweet caramel, and his eyes shone brighter than the sun. He looked up at Thomas with those eyes and slowly got up. He looked up at Thomas. He was so short.

The man was only about 5'4", while Thomas was 6'2". He may be short, but he looked like an art piece.

"Greetings," he said. His voice was surprisingly deep for such a shorty. He held his hand out for Thomas to shake. Thomas took his hand in his own quickly, eager for him to like him.

"I'm James, James Madison."

"I'm Thomas, Thomas Jefferson."

Thomas was in awe at how beautiful James was.

"Anyways, what are you here for, Jefferson?" James asked, looking up at Thomas, his arms crossed over his blue-grey suit. "Uh- A friend recommended I come to an "art therapist", if you know where that is?" Thomas asked, feeling a bit awkward while the shorter man stared at him so seriously.

"Ah- Yes I know him; mainly because that is me," James smiled. Thomas's heart leaped at the smiling James in front of him. "If I'm being honest, I have no idea what I'm supposed to do here, so if there are any pointers, I would appreciate if you'd-"

"First of all, talk less. Smile more," James said in a singing sort of tune. He was adorable. "You can't be serious. I'm a lawyer, my whole job is speaking for what I believe," Thomas laughed and smiled, looking confused at the advise, if you would even call it that.

"I never said that, I'm just saying to try and speak when necessary instead of whenever your mind feels. You need to wait for the perfect set of words, then you speak. All the tiles should fall into place if you-"