oneshots » hamilton x reader

The Sweetest Melody (Philip Hamilton X Reader)

It had been love at first sight. 

From the moment you saw a piano at your church, you knew it was something you wanted to play, to learn, to master. You approached it in awe, your four-year-old eyes shining with childlike wonder. Looking around, you spotted your parents, who were deep in conversation with another couple towards the front door. No one else was around, or so you thought. Straining and reaching with all your might, you managed to get your little legs onto the bench. You looked around, quickly, and hesitantly tapped a key towards the center. A note sounded, abrupt, but it was the most beautiful thing you had ever heard, clear and unique. You pressed on the key again, longer, laughing quietly now. 

You experimented with different keys, touching ones low down and high up, holding them for different lengths, even doing three at once, which was quite the task for your small little hands. Your parents' attention had been attracted by now, and your mother came over quickly. 

"(Y/N), dear, I don't know if you should—"

"Mommy, did you hear? L​​​isten!" You tapped out a short melody that you had made up. Your father had come over at this time as well. 

"That's wonderful, sweetheart," your father said. "Did you make that up yourself?" You nodded happily. 

And that is why you started piano lessons two years later, as soon as your parents could afford to get you a piano and find you a teacher. It took them longer to do the latter, as you had specific standards that you delivered to them in a list. "She has to be kind and funny," you said. "And she has to like me and want to help me get better." Your parents could barely hide the twitching in the corners of their mouths as you gravely ticked off all the qualities your teacher needed to have. However, they looked around to see who was teaching locally, and they found you a perfect fit. 

A Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton. 

You were very excited for your first lesson. Your parents dropped you off at the door and you raced inside, Mrs. Hamilton greeting you. "(Y/N)! How are you, dear?" she cried, giving you a big hug. She smelled like cookies and the flowers in your front yard—peonies, weren't they? As she led you into her living room, you stopped short in awe. A beautiful grand piano was sitting in the corner, glistening and sleek. It was huge, but you resolved not to let that get to you. She laughed, her bell-like voice sounding in your ears, and once you had recovered from your initial shock, she sat you down on the bench and pulled up a chair next to you.

"Now, (Y/N), this is what I do with everyone for their first lesson. We won't be playing anything today, but we're going to get to know each other." Your face had dropped when you heard you wouldn't be touching the beautiful keys, but you brightened when you heard the alternative. You loved Mrs. Hamilton already, and couldn't wait to get to know her more. 

She asked you things like how old you were (six), if you were excited to start lessons (yes!), what made you interested in piano (everything; she chuckled at that), and if you had any siblings (no, but your mother was pregnant and you hoped it was a girl). "Now it's time for you to ask me things," she said. Ask anything and I'll most likely answer it." You thought hard for a second, then said, 

"Do you have any kids?" She smiled. 

"I have one right now. His name is Philip and he's just your age." You beamed. 

"Is he here?"

Mrs. Hamilton frowned. "Yes, but he's very shy. He's most likely just in his room like he usually is during lessons. He only comes down when it's time for him to practice, which is right after your lesson." You responded with a rather disappointed oh and then asked her about her husband. He was a lawyer and worked for one of the most successful law firms in downtown New York City, which had a daily hour-and-a-half commute. Her father was an important politician as well. It seemed that your new piano teacher was not only sweet but successful.