Broken- And Fixed Again- (A Jamilton Fanfic)

Chapter 29: A Talk With Professor Washington

//TW: swearing, vague mentions of murder, and also James\\

From now on, we must call the Bill Of Rights the Bible of American Standardizations. Why? Not really sure. That's just the way it is now.

(Edit: Omg I totally forgot about that and that makes me so sad cuz that was a joke with a friend I dont even talk to anymore and she probably forgot I even exist lmao)

Alexander

"I just find her kinda relatable, you know? Sacrificing herself for the one she loved? It didn't work out very well, yeah, but it's the thought that counts."

"Yeah," I responded absently, the way his syllables curved and formed nothing more than a distant, almost inaudible sound. I wish I could have listened to him. I wish I could have hung on every word he was saying, drinking them in, absorbing them, dissecting each individual meaning until I found the root of everything that made Thomas who he was, but I couldn't.

I was lost.

Lost in the murmurs of complete strangers that quieted down as we passed. Lost in the looks they flashed Thomas, and whether it was one of sympathy or one of barely hidden disgust, the way they saw him didn't change. The people and their silent, swift judgements pooled in on me, pulling me down under a tide stronger than I was prepared for. If only they could see him the way I saw him. But they didn't. They didn't know Thomas. They didn't know his starlight and his sweet symphony and the smell of fragrant roses blooming in a cool, early spring.

All they saw was something to be ridiculed, to be judged. To be stared at and poked like an animal trapped in a cage, all with the satisfaction of knowing you're safe because an animal trapped in a cage doesn't fight back. It can't.

I wanted to go over there and deck all of them.

"Alexander?"

"Yes, love?"

"Are you...are you even listening to me?"

"Uh," I began, then sighed. "No. I'm sorry, Thomas." I squeezed his hand apologetically, wishing I could have been better. Wishing I could have been the person he deserved.

"Is everything alright?"

"Umm, yeah, I—" A girl laughed with her friend as we passed, and my voice died in my throat at once. Was she laughing at my Thomas? Did she even understand? I bristled, pulling Thomas closer if it meant pulling him away from her sight. I wish I could have protected him from their piercing, unwavering stares clawing gouges in his skin. When would they have finally taken enough?

I squeezed Thomas's had and forced myself to exhale.

It couldn't have been much longer to Professor Washington's class, but it still dragged by like eternities.

"You're not paying attention to them, are you?" Thomas asked, looking down at me with somewhat of a frown.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I guess. They're being rude assholes. They don't even know the shit you've been through!"

Thomas sighed, ducking his head. "Don't let them get to you."

"But they don't even know anything about you. Why is it fair that they get to—they shouldn't be able to just—I don't know."

"Hey, don't worry," Thomas said, nudging me softly with his hip. "You get used to it."

"That's horrible."