You make me sick

Eyes (14)

This song made me cry when I first heard it, because it reminded me of my life.. LISTEN TO THE FULL THING ITS LITERALLY MY FAVORITE SONG RIGHT NOW

Hamilton

Jefferson.

Laurens.

Jefferson?

Laurens.

But, like, Jefferson?

No. Laurens.

Jefferson.

Laurens.

Jefferson?

"Jefferson?" I creep up from behind him, a pool of hair flopped on the edge of the couch as his computer glows, cutting sharply through the darkness of the late night. 

It's currently two-thirty. Am. I was in our room on my computer, working on an essay for my fathe- Wow. For Washington. I hate how he calls me son. It's so annoying. Anyways, the essay is due in about.. Three months? He hasn't announced it yet, but I guess being teacher's pet comes with benefits. 

I peek over the couch to see his eyes slid shut, lips parted to let soft breaths escape him. Now that I'm here, I can actually think without anyone judging me. 

Can I please be honest?

Right now, I have no idea why, I feel like slipping into the crook of his arm, sliding a kiss across his lips, playing with his hair, letting the ache in my heart melt away and simply hold him close to me. Make him mine. 

It's probably because I'm used to doing that with Laurens. No big deal. 

I don't like Jefferson.

I hate him.

He hates me.

It's common knowledge. But when I look over to him, sleeping peacefully with the computer open and hair looking so goddamn perfect, I feel a soft tug on my heart. 

I slide on the couch next to him, breathing softly as to not wake him. I lean over his head, surveying every feature. 

His eyes, which I wish I could see, are feathered with the longest lashes I've ever seen on a guy, and his soft, big lips are looking more tempting than ever. I lean over, scared to see what will happen, but forgetting at the same time about everything else. 

I feel his warm breath on my cheek, gentle as I shudder.

This isn't right. This isn't right.

But if it isn't right, then why does it feel SO right? I shudder again as a wave of hot air hits my cheek, and I hesitate before looking over to his lips. 

Somehow my hands found their way into his hair, and I'm leaning over him, gripping his tight curls with a need unknown to me ever before.

I lean close, breaths against my lips now, scared but excited at the same time. His top lip brushes softly against mine, not quite pressing, but a whisper. I gasp and fall back, hand on my forehead. He merely shifts in his sleep, letting out a soft moan. 

What the hell am I doing? This isn't right! Laurens is my boyfriend, and even though he's in the hospital, in a coma, this is still considered cheating! I need to stay true. But..

I look over to him again, so peaceful and perfect with the white light illuminating his sharp jaw line and soft ringlets. 

This is only because of Laurens. My emotions are playing tricks on me, and are trying to create a substitute for him.