𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑 [𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙽𝚄𝙴𝙳]

Away From Fights

Alexander was gone before he had noticed Jefferson wake up, having to squirm out of the jackass's tight ass hold just to get out of the bed. He was still wearing Jefferson's shirt, but that was all that remained covering his body. He felt sick, wandering around the room in search of the bottoms he had been put in the previous day.

When Alexander found them, he looked back at Jefferson's sleeping form, which was basking in the soft golden light of a lamp that they had forgotten to turn off before the.. Night, had started. Makin sure the other was asleep, Alexander disappeared into his bathroom, turning on the shower as hot as he could, before stripping off the shirt and stepping inside.

The hot water burnt Alexander's skin, and he had to ease himself into it, getting used to the sting of what could have been lava if he didn't know any better. He could have turned the temperature down on the shower, make the water colder or hell, even warm, but Alexander knew better. He knew that burning hot water killed bacteria faster, and if there was one thing he had wanted to kill, it was all of the germs on his top layer of skin.

Roughly rubbing at his skin until it turned a vibrant red, it wasn't only bacteria he wanted to rid himself of. He couldn't care less about being dirty, he hadn't even enough money to afford taking showers more than two minutes long when he was a child. He got used to it. Nevertheless, he wasn't wary of germs or anything else riding on his skin. He wanted to scrub off every touch, point of contact. Every bruise on his neck, shoulders or collarbone, every inch of skin that burnt with previous rough handling, every place that had been kissed with searing hot lips. He wanted to wash it all off, as if he could. Though, no matter how hard he scrubbed at his skin, his arms now bleeding from them being so raw, he could still feel it all.

He could still feel the cheap, durable rope over his wrists, bounding him in place. The hot, unforgiving breath against his neck, that reeks of alcohol and bad intent. The wandering hands, delivering sharp smacks or scratches if Alexander dare move. The searing hot lips, acting as if planting tags, proving ownership. And, Alexander knew, it was all in his mind. He knew that he wasn't still there, he knew that he was currently in the shower. And, even then, he had lost the feeling of the water rushing over his head, the stinging of his raw skin, the soap suds stuck in his eyes. All he could feel, all he could see, was /that/.

He was out of breath by the time he had returned back to reality, on the floor of the shower, the water now running freezing cold and burning his skin more than the hot water had. He didn't know if he was crying or not, but assumed that he was when he felt the familiar taste of salt water on his top lip, small sniffles being the only sounds he was making. He was probably in there for a while, judging by the new change of water temperature, and the banging of the door leading outside, a Virginian accented voice muttering yells that Alexander couldn't make out. Alexander reached up to shut the water off, now nothing but shivers, but remained on the floor of the shower, arms wrapping around his knees. Finally, Jefferson's words were audible when the water wasn't blocking them out, his volume still not bothering to lower.

"What the fuck, Hamilton? You've been in there for an hour and a goddamn half! Why the hell were you screaming?"

Alexander stayed silent for a minute, Jefferson stopping after asking those questions, probably knowing that Alexander ha heard them. He swallowed for a moment, resting his chin on his knees.

"Go away, I'll be out in a minute."

That's all it took. He heard a muttered swear behind the door, before the distinct sound of dress shoes tapping on tile lessened and lessened, the only sound now ringing in Alexander's ears being his own breath. Had he really been in there for an hour and a half? It seemed like five minutes. Alexander looked down at his arms and legs, which burnt red, before sighing, standing up with shaking knees.