𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑 [𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙽𝚄𝙴𝙳]

"Unadulterated" Loathing

Alexander regretted everything.

Well, that can't exactly be said, yet. Nothing happened. Well, other than Jefferson blowing up his fucking phone throughout the day.

Hamilton never had to silence his phone, or, hell, even shut it off on a normal day. It's always been the same, constant pattern. With his work, with his phone, with his day after work. It's all the same rhythm and pattern, one that Alexander never had to bother memorizing. Perhaps the one thing he needed be wary of was whom he lived with, but even then, Alexander worked his time around the other as is, doing the best he can to constantly stay out of their shared house. Working around the male was a constant pattern.

However, with an exchange of numbers and a promise of something later on in the night, it was hard for a brand new change in Alexander's day to go by amiss. Just like it was difficult for him to suddenly have an unstoppable stream of texts from a certain Virginian.

If Alexander were to be honest, with both himself and possibly Jefferson if asked, he wasn't sure why he had responded in such a way to the previous.. encounter. Insults and arguments aren't something the pair are foreign to. In fact, it wouldn't be a normal day without the two bickering like some sort of married couple, one that despised each other but didn't want to waste money on a divorce. Alexander didn't know why he kissed Jefferson, didn't know why he let it escalate, didn't know why he had given the other his phone number and didn't know why he was actually planning on meeting him. Though, in all honesty, so far? Alexander only regretted one thing, and that was the number swap. God, he swears, the next message he's sent, he'll actually kill the fucking Virginian.

> Incoming message: Jefferson.
"You're such a slut."

> Incoming message: Jefferson.
"You know that, yeah?"

> Incoming message: Jefferson.
"You need a fuck so badly, that you resort to your political enemy."

> Incoming message: Jefferson.
"Maybe I should leave you on my doorstep."

> Incoming message: Jefferson.
"Oohh, or I could drag it out."

> Incoming message: Jefferson.
"Make you wait until the next day, meet me in my office."

> Incoming message: Jefferson.
"Actually? Nevermind. I don't want your ugly ass soiling the beauty that is my office."

> Incoming message: Jefferson.
"See you tonight."

One more message, and Alexander would be in jail for murder.
Here's the problem. Alexander could easily just mute Thomas. He could shut off his phone, he could put it on airplane mode, he could shove it in his bag and never look at it again for that day. But he didn't, and he knew that he wouldn't. That's the problem. No matter how many messages Jefferson sent him, Alexander would look to his phone as soon as he heard it ding, would read the message and drink it in.

It distracted him, that's for sure. Try getting literally anything done when there's an asshole, two doors down from you, blowing up your phone every chance he gets. Alexander prided himself on his flawless work ethic, but he couldn't seem to do that, now.

He ended up skipping lunch break, one in which he would usually use as an excuse to drown himself in coffee, simply because he wanted to avoid the Virginian at all costs. When he found himself at a block for work, he decided to truly think of whatever's going to happen at Jefferson's house.