These Inklings of Love

The Early Years

This is an introduction of sorts. Some history before we start the actual story.

TW- there is a mention of an attempt at self-harm. This will be the only time that will be mentioned, probably.

Everyone was born with a unique mark on their right ankle. When you fall in love, their mark appears somewhere on your skin. Young children love to show off their tattoos, dreaming of what will happen in the future. As people grow older, the less they talk about them.

The sun shone brightly in the afternoon sky. Kids ran around cheering and laughing around the lunchtime school grounds. Giggles came from underneath the giant, wooden fort on the schools' playground. The three Schuyler Sisters had huddled underneath the playground. Their hiding spot from the rest of their classmates.

A ten-year-old Angelica Schuyler covered up the wisdom tree mark on her right ankle. "I'm not going to fall in love with anyone. My tattoo is the only one I will ever have."

An eight-year-old Elizabeth Schuyler giggled. "Come on, Angie! Everyone falls in love." She said, gazing dreamily at her watery dove.

A seven-year-old Peggy Schuyler nodded. "I can't wait to see who falls in love with me." She sighed and let her pants cover her sun tattoo.

Angelica scoffed and shook her head. "You'll see. I'll never have another person's mark on me."

A group of four boys climbed underneath the fort. A 10-year-old Hercules Mulligan sat beside Angelica. "Are you talking about the marks again?" He asked, curiously. Hercules never showed anyone his. Apart from his close friends. Other people had made fun of the tailor's mannequin tattoo on his ankle.
Eliza grinned and nodded. "Will you ever fall in love?"

A nine-year-old Lafayette sat on the other side of Angelica and shrugged. His French flag coloured shooting star tattoo was showing. "It's hard to tell. You can never tell the future."

"Angie says she won't ever fall in love." Said Peggy.

Eight-year-old Alexander Hamilton shook his head. "Maybe one day she will. Just you wait." He grinned.

An eight-year-old John Laurens sat quietly beside them, watching them talk about their tattoos. He looked down at his right ankle where his leafy turtle shell tattoo was showing.
All his friends only had their tattoo on their ankle. John was too scared to tell anyone about the one on his lower back. The leafy quill that could only belong to Alexander.
He couldn't tell his mother. He was too scared to. He could never tell his father, ever. Henry Laurens would never approve of it.
John looked at his group of friends as the bell rang. He sighed, relieved that he could avoid the tattoo talk for another day. The eight of them crawled out from underneath the playground and ran to class.

---

The light breeze rustled through the large oak tree outside the cafeteria. A fourteen-year-old John Laurens sat on one of the low branches with a thirteen-year-old Peggy Schuyler.
"I wish I could be in the same year as you guys." Peggy sighed. They had been talking about school.
John chuckled. "It will only get harder from there, Pegs."
"You're the year above me, Laurens."

"So?" John grinned.
They were interrupted by Peggy pointing to a group of people walking towards them. John sighed as he saw Alexander and Eliza walking hand in hand. The had fallen in love a few months ago. He could clearly see the dove on the side of Alex's neck and the quill on Eliza's bicep.

But, despite the secret he held, he forced a smile.
"Alright, alright! That's what I'm talking about! Here come the lovebirds!" He yelled, forcing himself to grin. It pained him to say that but he could never tell them his secret. He didn't want to complicate things. He didn't want them to reject him.