Dear, Hamilton

Dreams gladly forgotten

My breaths are ragged gasps as I sprint outside. I'm not even sure where I'm going. All I know is that I need to go anywhere far, far away from Angelica. That's all I ask. My breath fogs in front of me in white plumes as I pant, and my toes quickly go numb from the cold as I run. 

"Eliza!" I hear someone call out from far behind me, but I push their voice out of my head.

I have to get out of here. I force myself to focus on the way the thin layer of snow and ice crackles beneath my feet, how my fingers have also lost feeling, and how my nose burns at the cold. My throat is cold and dry as I take heaving breaths of the frigid air.

Suddenly, my foot catches on something on the ground, and I'm propelled forward, arms flailing as I try to catch myself. Instead, I land hard on my face on the cold, compact ground, and I let out a grunt of pain as my body slides on the icy snow before skidding to a halt.

My hands are cut and bloody. I know that because they sting, and I can see thin scratches of red on my palms. And my face. Yes, my face is scratched, too. Still laying on the ground, I slowly bring a hand to my face and wince at the tenderness in my cheek.

Suddenly, someone skids to a halt beside me, spraying snow all around us, and then I feel a pair of arms wrapping around me as the person drop to their knees beside me. "Eliza," the person says in a soothing voice, and I realize it's Alexander.

He moves me onto his lap and holds me tighter. "Are you okay?" he asks with a tinge of panic, his eyes filled with so much worry.

He tilts my head towards him and gently touches my cheek. When I wince, he quickly jerks his hand away and says, "Sorry." He gently grabs hold of my hands and holds them out for him to check. "You fell pretty hard," he comments with concern as he makes out the scratches and blood on my palms.

He folds my hands within his to warm them up, and soon I can feel the heat from his hands seeping into mine. His eyes hold mine as we sit there in the melting snow. I let out a little sob, and he folds me into him. My head rests against his chest as his arms encircle me protectively.

"Shh," he whispers softly, and when my tears begin to recede, he asks gently, "What happened?"

"Angelica happened," I say between shuddering breaths.

He nods and thankfully doesn't ask any more questions. Instead, he simply lifts me up into his arms and starts carrying me back to the house. "N-no," I manage to say between my chattering teeth. "I can't face Angelica."

"I know," he tells me softly. "I'm going through the back door, and then we'll go right to my room. We won't run into anyone, I swear, but you need to get inside to warm up."

I nod and decide to take his word for it as I nestle my head against his chest. Maybe it's his warmth, the methodic bounce of his steps, or the way I can hear the rhythmic beating of his heart, but my eyes start to drift closed.

I'm only half awake when he opens the back door of the cabin and quietly goes up the stairs. True to his word, we don't run into anyone as he opens his room's door and gently sets me on his bed. I try to say "thank you" but I'm too sluggish from the cold and exhausted from travel to form any words.

Alexander tucks me into the covers and brings them up to my chin as he once did in his tent at the New York City camp. He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear and sits there for a moment until I begin to nod off. I think I hear him murmur, "I'll be back," but I'm not sure. I could've dreamed it.

And then suddenly, his weight vanishes from the bed, and I hear his door open and then close. And just like that, I'm alone again. I can't say I like it, but I'm not able to linger on it for long before I fall into a dreamless sleep.