Because of a dream | A Jamilton Story

Chapter 6: A Revealing

The next day, Jefferson got into work.

"Thomas!" a gruff voice called, he turned around to see Burr.

"What?" Jefferson asked in a monotonous voice.

"Where were you yesterday, man?"

"Home."

"What the hell happened?"

"Slept in, woke up sick."

"You okay now though?" Jefferson pause to contemplate how to answer this seemingly simple query.

"Yeah," he finally said, and walked away. Down the hallway, hang a right, and he was at his office to find the president sitting at his desk.

"Jefferson..." said Washington impatiently.

"Y-yes, sir?" Jefferson replied, suddenly quite nervous.

"Exactly what happened yesterday?" Washington continued.

"I don't know what-"

"You didn't come to work, I sent Hamilton, he came back four hours later. Now what happened  in those four hours?" Washington interrupted. "Specifically between ten and two," he added.

"We simply fought sir. Since I'd fallen ill, I was easily irritable, and apparently he was fired up for a fight, so it went on f-for a while," he lied.

"Oh really?" Washington leaned in. "And exactly what did you fight about?"

"Getting me to work, amongst other things in which I can't recall, s-sir."

"Mhm..." he hummed suspiciously. He got up to leave. When he he was at the door, he said, "And Jefferson?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Don't let it happen again."

Hours later, Hamilton walked into Jefferson's office. The southerner glanced up feeling the presence of someone enter his office.

"Listen, Thomas-" Hamilton started.

"Here to gloat about my weakest moment?" Jefferson rudely interrupted in a dangerous voice, "Also, what happened to not calling me by my first name?"

Ignoring his comment of name calling, Alex continued. "No, but I came to talk about it." Thomas looked square in the eye, giving him the I-dare-you look. "What caused-" he paused looking for the right choice of words, "-that?" Thomas squeezed his hands in and out of a fist as he cast his gaze downward. Hamilton went back to close and lock the door, when he sat down, he placed his hands on one of Jefferson's comfortingly. He tried, seemingly in vain, to catch eye contact with Thomas. Alex raised his hand to cup the latter's cheek. Tears brimmed in Thomas's eyes, he wouldn't- no, couldn't let him know. The problem for the man was that Alexander had one hell of a way to silently persuade a person.

Tears of shame and embarrassment gushed down his eyes as he burst out the truth, "I-I lo-love y-you!" he choked out.

Alex, stunned at what Thomas had just said, responded with, "I love you too."