Sickness, Freckles, and Magenta (ON HIATUS AND SLOW UPDATES)

Chapter 1

Disappointment was an understatement. Philip Hamilton was ashamed, embarrassed, angry, confused, and yes, disappointed.

His father's public affair had torn him, his mother, and their family apart, yet his dad was oblivious and thought he was defending his honor and legacy.

Legacy

Philip chuckled scornfully at the thought. His father had just destroyed his legacy along with his credibility. Honor wasn't any better.

What, he thought, is the point of honor, if you have no dignity or humility to follow?

As he walked around, his mind wandered to the things he wanted to say to his father. He honestly didn't know what he was feeling. His mind was overwhelmed with ideas and thoughts.

He just felt empty. Numb. Cold.

The young Hamilton had been so wrapped up in his thoughts he didn't realize that not only was it dark, he was also at the one place his father would kill him if he found out he'd been near.

Philip took a deep breath knocked 3 times on the door. As soon as the door opened, he started talking.

"I'm so sorry to be calling this late, but I don't know what to do. I assume you know of my father's affair, it's tearing our family apart. My mom's grown distant, he sleeps in his office. And, please just help me-", he said, breaking down into tears.

Thomas Jefferson was shocked. Not because it was late, but because Philip Hamilton was on his doorstep in distress. The Secretary of State held up his hand.

"Please come in, Philip.", he said gently. Philip gasped at the hospitality but walked in and took his shoes off.

Thomas took his coat and hung it up while Philip wandered into the the living room and sat in one of the chairs.

Jefferson walked back in with a small plate of food for the young man, who took it gratefully.

"Thank you so much, Secretary Jefferson.", he said quietly. "You don't know how much this means to me."

"Please. Call me Thomas.", Jefferson offered as Philip started eating.

Thomas noted the small sniffles that came from the younger man as he ate, and his heart broke. This poor boy, in distress because of what his father had done.

As soon as Philip was done, Thomas took the plate and kneeled down in front of him and took his hands. He looked up at Philip's watery eyes and reach a hand up to gently wipe away his tears with his thumb and to brush some stray hair out of the boy's face.

Philip was shocked when he saw Thomas get on his knees and reach a hand up to his face, but relaxed when he realized Jefferson's intent of drying his face. He smiled a little when Thomas took up the task of brushing some of his curls out of his face.

Thomas smiled when he saw the young man smile, and pulled him to his chest. Philip wrapped his arms around his shoulders and nuzzled into his neck.

"Philip?"

"Hm?", was the response.

"I want to keep you safe. Would you like to stay here? You should write to your mother, but I am more than willing to let you stay here."

Philip nodded.

"Yes please."

Thomas pulled back from the hug and pressed a kiss to Philip's forehead. He moved to get up, but the smaller clung to him.

"C'mon.", Thomas coaxed Philip off the couch and led him to his office.

"Why is there a bed in the doorway to your office?"