My Childhood Friend Turned Soulmate (Philip Hamilton X Reader)

Letters

I LIVE!!

Sorry I've taken forever to update, I just recently got into a different fandom. *spiderman theme in the distance*
*VOLTRON ALSO PLAYING AGGRESSIVELY*

I'm back tho, so prepare for the cuteness you've all "patiently" waited for.

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"Promise me you'll write, Okay?" I sniffled. Philip smiled and hugged me tightly.

"I promise. I'll write every day." He whispered.

Today Philip was leaving with his mother, aunt, and sister Upstate for the summer, and immediately after he's leaving for boarding school.

Eliza was hugging Alexander near the carriage and Angelica- both of them, were standing next to the horses.

Philip pulled away from the hug and smiled.

"I'll be able to use the new paper and ink you gave me too!" He said cheerfully. I smiled and nodded, trying to wipe away the few rebellious tears that fell onto my cheeks.

"Philip! It's time to go!" Eliza called. I looked back to his freckled face and grinned.

"Bye Philip." I said, then I got brave and leaned forward, pecking his cheek. His cheeks turned red and he laughed nervously.

"B-bye (Y/N)." He stuttered, then he grabbed his bag and jogged over to the carriage where his family waited.

The driver snapped the reigns and they were off. I saw Philip poke his head out of the window and wave violently, and I did the same. I watched as the carriage drove away until it was so small I couldn't see it anymore.

Alexander walked over to me and put his hand on my shoulder.

"Let's get you home."

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Philip made good on his promise immediately, as I received a letter from him a week after he left. He talked about how he already missed me and how big the house upstate was. He told me about his grandfather and how he wrote poetry in his spare time, and taught Philip some new poetry tricks as well.

I always told him how New York was always less cheerful with out him, and he always said that he would be back soon.

About 3 months later, we still wrote to each other, just less often. I had just turned 9, and he sent me a package of poems that he wrote over the summer. We wrote to each other about once a week, but he still seemed as energetic as ever in his writing. School had started for him about a month ago and I already noticed the difference in his handwriting; less childish scribbles and more cursive font that I see my father write in.

Speaking of my father, he honestly seems less stressed now that the war is faced away from the new country we live in, and now just tries to keep Mr. Hamilton from blowing his top around Mr. Jefferson. I told Philip about this as well, and he told me that that sounded like his father.

About 2 years have passed now. Philip and I still write, but now only once a month. I always look forward to the day his letter arrives, but it just doesn't happen enough. Philip constantly apologizes for him never being able to write anymore, due to his school, but I always say it's no problem. We still tell each other about our lives, and it seems that things have turned out for the better for both of us.

Philip is making lots of friends and has figured out that he wants to be a lawyer after college like his Pops. I have been learning about taking care of a family like any young woman does but I've learned some tips about politics from my father.

More time has passed, and I barely hear from Philip anymore.

When I do end up hearing from him, it's several pages of his current life as well as some apologies for not writing more. I do the same, as well as send him a quill from time to time, just to remind him of me.

My mother has told me more about Soulmate Tattoos, which is why she hasn't tried to sell me off to some rich boy who claimed he could "treat me right" or something. I tell Philip about this, and he says when he comes back he'll be my body guard. I laugh and tell him it's unnecessary.

I tell him how his father is doing; a little more stressed and paranoid now, to which I have no explanation, but still smiles and looks cheerful whenever I visit. I'm about 14 years old now, so I can go on my own.

Philip sends poems still, but I've noticed there are more love poems now then before, and I can't help but blush at a few of them. I constantly compliment him and his work, but never ask if they're about someone specific. He never mentions it, so why should I ask?

15 years old, one year away from getting my infamous tattoo. Philip isn't on my mind as often anymore, and his letters are even more rare. I've never really met very many guys while Philip was away, so I have no idea who the "one" could be. My father tells me to not stress about it- and yet I still do.

Today I decided to take a break and head to town. A little cafe was on the corner of a nearby street which had the best drinks and a good shelf of books that I could read. Luckily everyone knew of my heritage so no one questioned a fifteen year old girl walking in with no husband or father, ordering something, and reading in the corner for a few hours before going home. Plus side of being the President's daughter I suppose.

Today was quieter in the cafe than usual, but I didn't question it, only appreciating it so I could read with out many distractions.

I just read the last page of my current chapter when I heard the bell on the door ring.