Dear, Hamilton

I want to be in the room where it happens

When I wake up, Angelica is still sleeping soundly beside me despite the light that streams in through the white curtains drawn over the windows.

I quietly get up so as to not disturb Angelica and move towards the window. With a hand, I shift the curtain a few inches aside to see outside. My eyes go immediately to the manicured grounds below, and a flare of surprise rushes through me at the sight of Hamilton outside, pacing the garden. He looks like he's talking to himself because his mouth is moving.

I frown.

What is he doing?

My curiosity grows with every second I stand there, watching him. It becomes so overwhelming that I turn on my heel and quietly slip out of the room before heading downstairs to go outside to talk to him. I luckily don't run into anyone downstairs, probably because it's so early. Judging by the watery sunlight and misty sky outside, it's near dawn.

I step outside the back door of the house and walk across the gardens towards Alexander. His auburn hair is tousled as if he'd run his hand through it several times over, and he wears only breeches and a white long-sleeved tunic-undershirt, having not bothered to shrug on the jacket of his blue and buff uniform. 

He's so lost in thought that he doesn't hear or see me approach until I'm about ten feet away. I only catch certain words, such as "defendant", "aggregated demand", and "admissible" before he looks up, spots me, and abruptly stops talking.

"Hey," I say in greeting with a small wave of my hand as I take a couple steps closer. I stop five feet away. "What are you doing?"

A sheepish look crosses his face as he replies, "Oh, I'm just memorizing my notes and studies." He pauses before elaborating, "It's how I study. I have to pace and say my notes out loud. It's how I remember things. I used to do it outside at dawn when I went to King's College-" He trails off before he clears his throat and asks, "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm good," I respond. Why does this feel so awkward?

After a beat of silence, he asks hedgingly, "Where- where did you sleep last night? You never came to your room."

I release a breath, relieved that I'm being asked this easy question. "I was with Angelica." We settle into another awkward silence, and I can see the question hanging between us.

Why did you sleep with Angelica?

I clasp my hands behind my back before explaining as if it were obvious, "I saw you were asleep, and I didn't want to wake you, so I chose to sleep with Angelica." 

It's not the whole truth, but it's at least part of it. The other part of the truth is a part I'm not sure about. I'm not completely sure why I chose to go to Angelica, but I did.

His mouth opens before closing, and he looks like he wants to say something before he instead settles for, "I wouldn't have minded if you had woken me up."

I can only manage a small, "Oh," in response, because I'm not really sure what to say to that.

Hamilton lets out a small sigh before suggesting, "We should probably go inside."

I nod wordlessly and walk beside him as we head inside. We're silent the whole way, and I can't help but think to myself, What changed between us?

When we get inside, the house is rousing into motion once again. Servants cook food in the kitchen and dash to and fro rooms to clean after last night's events, and I catch sight of Mr. Livingstone sitting in the living room, reading. Other than that, the house is pretty silent.

"What were you studying?" I ask Alexander as we head to the dining room to investigate whether any food was left out from last night.

"Oh, uh, law and a little bit of economics," he tells me, seemingly surprised that I had asked him something. I hide my frown at his surprise. Why wouldn't I ask him what he was studying?