Her voice fades as she melts in her husbands arms. He walks her home.
Days pass. Alex P.O.V
Someone answers the door. I look at Eliza who has been in bed for the past couple of days. I go down stairs and answer it.
A: B-Burr!
B: Hi Alex just wanted to make sure every thing is alright. I heard what happened.
A: Ever thing is just fine.
B: When will you comeback to work?
A: Well Eliza is pregnant and she has been in bed, I don't know....
B: Alex...
A: Yes Burr?
B: Forget about what happened.
A: Burr....
B: Take care.
I watch him walk away. I .... No you do not. You love Eliza, Right? Great talking with your self.
El: Alex?
I turn around to see her come down the stairs.
A: Your up!
El: Could you please go to work?
A: Its been three days since I saw my son dead and hear in nine months I'm going to have another son.
El: I can get a abortion
A: No.
El: Alex?
A: Yes?
El: Go hang out with your friends...
A: Thank you, but I am staying here.
El: Poppy will be here later.
A: I said no.
El: Alexander please.
A: No.
El: What happened between you and Burr?
A: Nothing.
El: Then go.
A: No.
El: For fuck sake go.
A: No.
El: Fine. Stay here and pout.
A: Thank you.
El: I'm gonna kill you one day.
A: And I'll deserve it.
Burrs P.O.V
I walk into the bar.
B: The strongest you got.
Bar tender: Bottle or glass?
B: Bottle.
he then slides me the bottle.
B: Put it on my tab.
Every Friday I pay off my tab. I go sit at a table in a corner. I open the bottle. I take a sip. I feel lonely and empty. Is it because of Alex. I mean I love him. Ever since he first asked if I was Aaron Burr. He was so young. Wanting a revaluation and he got one. Now he is growing old with a women he loves. I get up and walk out the bar. I take a sip every now and then.
YOU ARE READING
Christmas Present (hamburr)
FanfikceSo!!! This story is horrible. I am so sorry if you read this. Also if you do want more. I am going to rewrite the entire thing. I'm also going to do more research on this subject and make it less cringe worthy. Until then I don't know. This story i...
