You make me sick

Stand (8)

Jefferson

My eyes flutter open, and I have to bat them a few times to get rid of the curls in my face. Having fabulous hair doesn't come without cost.

My arms are wrapped around something, but what? And why am I shirtless, I would never sleep shirtless in front of Hamilton- Oh. Hamilton.

I lift my head to look down to him, and am relieved when I see him still in a deep sleep, his chest rising and falling against mine. His legs are wrapped around me and he forms a cage around my midsection, as his arms are in the same position as his legs. Well, this should be fun.

I try to wiggle away from him, but unconscious Alex simply tightens his hold on me, and at one point I move too much.

I freeze, wincing as I look down to him. His eyes are open, SHIT.

He furrows his brows and looks up to me, then lets out a sharp yelp and backs away, curling up into a ball at the edge of my bed. It kinda hurts to see him recoil from me like that. His eyes flashes as he whisper yells,

"What the hell are you doing in my bed?! And why are you shirtless? We both sleep in shirts-" He looks down, then blushes deeply and pulls the cover over his head to make a cave that only his head pokes out of. I don't think he wants me noticing this, but his eyes dart down to my torso for a second, and when they come back up he blushes even more. "And why am I shirtless!? WHY?!"

I sigh and slide off of bed, heading over to my closet. I don't want him seeing this, but I'm actually really disappointed that he instantly was disgusted. Maybe everything he said while he was drunk was a lie. Wouldn't be that surprising.

I feel his hand on my bare back and jump a little when he gives me a sincere expression. 

"You okay?" No, I'm not okay.

"I'm fine." I just had my heart crushed into a million tiny pieces that were then scattered across the world.

"You sure? You don't look fine." His face only makes my chest tighten even more, and I want more than anything to crash his lips against mine and have him respond. Because, it would all be worthless if he didn't feel the same way. Which I know for a fact that he doesn't.

I don't even realize that tears have started to stream down my face until Hamilton reaches up a hand to wipe them away. I smack his hand away and step back, bumping into the wall.

"Get away from me!" He looks confused, stepping closer, and it only hurts more to see him in pain because of me.

"But, Thoma-"

"Don't call me Thomas!" He frowns, dropping his hand and stepping back.

"What happened last night?" I shake my head and push past him, grabbing a sweatshirt as I storm out. I hear him cry after me, but slam the room door in his face to run right into Lafayette. He stumbles back and is about to snap at me, but stops when he sees my face.

"Mon amie, are you alright?" I'm about to say I'm fine, but stop myself when I fully register who I'm talking to. This is Laf. My only real friend, the one I would trust with my life and literally anything. I shake my head and he takes me by the elbow, encouraging me to pull on the sweatshirt as we head out. "Come on, we'll talk about it over coffee, non?"

~~~

"And so, I really, really like him, and it's super hard because he's dating Laurens, and he told me all that stuff that I told you about while he was drunk, and last night I helped him during the storm and he asked me to sleep with him, but then he gets disgusted when he sees me in the morning?" I shake my head and run my hand through my hair as Laf sighs and runs his hand up and down my arm.