I realize I haven't thanked you guys for reading in while: THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYBODY STILL READING!!! Seriously, I love you all.
And I don't usually pick out, but MusicalNerd27 THANK YOU especially because 1) you always read and vote AND 2) even though you don't even LIVE in the US you asked if I was okay, and it meant so much that you cared. <3 <3
---Jared's POV---
1776. I chuckled quietly. 1776.
I'd found out that that was Mr. Lauren's room, by hacking into the system... one catch. It was Alex's room too... and they were so obviously in love...
Meh. They wouldn't go that far this early. Plus Laurens had a broken arm. That would make positioning and such awkward, to say the least.
Ans right now it was 1:00 in the morning, so even if they did do the dirty they'd both be asleep by now. But they wouldn't anyway, so I didn't know why I was still worried.
God, I sounded like Evan.
Click-click. Click, click, click, click. Click. Click. Within minutes, I'd entered their dorm. I crept forward, a small reading light in my hand.
"Ow!" I stumbled over a textbook- Alex goddammit- and stubbed my toe, lost my balance, and slapped a wooden dresser loudly before falling with a dull thump on the carpet floor.
I heard a sharp breath from the direction of the beds. Shit.
My first thought was that it wasn't fair the chaperones got carpet and we didn't.
My second thought was that my flashlight had ended up 10 feet away, shining a light onto the face of a woman that must've been Lauren's mother because they eyes and hair were the same color, and the distinctive curls made it even more obvious.
My final thought was that in the dark, my hand had landed on plastic packaging.
Less than a minute after my fall, I was dashing down the chaperone dormitory stairs, clutching my treasure.
And the light. As they say when you go to nature parks or whatever- Evan would kill me for not caring- leave no trace.
---John's POV---
Click-click. Click, click, click, click. Click. Click... My body froze, my eyes still squeezed shut. My mind teetered between the presence of awakening and the sickening abyss of asleep.
Click- It was Father. Staggering home at midnight, too angry to let me sleep peacefully, to drunk to get the key in the key hole.
I heard a stomp, a slap, and then a thump.
Stomps into the room. Slaps Mother. Thumps up the stairs. I knew what came next- he would yank me out of bed by my hair, beat me up, roaring drunkenly, and slump to sleep on a nearby couch.
Terrified to wake him, I wouldn't move an inch until the morning light. I sucked in my breath in anticipation and braced myself, trembling violently, a single bright light flashing once through the room.
Father would switch on the lights. Why wasn't he switching on the light? I heard the door close, then footsteps and my brain scrolled quickly through a never ending list at a sickening speed.
What is he as going after Michael? What if he decided Mother was a better target-
Without knowing what I was doing, I jumped up, panicky, and stumbled to the door before my body could even adjust to being awake again.
"No-!" I cried out, "Don't- please- me! Beat me!"
Blankets shifted behind me on a different bed and I whipped around, what it that was him- or he hid there instead to beat me, surprise me-
Oh no. Did I wake him up? Oh no, oh no, no, no, no no no nonononono... "I'm sorry," I choked, tasking the salt of my own tears. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up, p-please go back to sleep, please, I'll be quiet, I will!" The figure moved towards me, up from the bed and I pressed myself against the door.
I knew the salt I tasted would soon be blood- but Father would not go through this door. He would stay in this room, he would beat me up, he would not lay a finger on Mother or Michael.
"No." I told him firmly, pretending I was in a position to bargain, "You can't get to them. If you're going to hurt someone, hurt me. It's my fault Michael's gay, you said it yourself."
He was saying something, not in the brutish growl I heard every day, not even in an angry tone. Maybe he was trying to coax me away form the door.
Never. "It's not Mother's fault either," I desperately added, "It's mine, not hers."
He was close enough to hit me now, and flicked on the lights. Lights meat that he was about to beat my ass. Without waiting for my eyes to adjust, I curled up, protecting my neck and face, mostly leaving my legs and arms exposed, in front of the door like a doorstop.
My breath stopped as I waited for the first blows to fall... but they didn't.
Instead, I felt a small, gentle hand land softly on my shoulder.
"Shhhhh." A voice whispered. I knew that voice... "Shhhh. Don't cry, don't cry." I noticed my knees were soaking and I was sobbing in huge, heaving gasps.
I tried to slow my breathing, but it didn't work because then I needed more air and I had to take huge gulps of air again. I sniffed.
"Hey," the friendly voice continued carefully, "May I hug you?"
My neck felt like an unoiled joint as I jerked it in what I hoped was a shaky nod. Soon, thin arms wrapped around me, warm and solid. Maybe he felt my breathing, because he began to count softly, "In, two, three, four, out, two, three, four..."
Slowly, gradually, I was able to let out a heaving sigh, and croak out the only word I was ready to say.
"Alex."
Heh. Well. Writing a character freaking out is not really my thing...
-The Worst Writer on Wattpad
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Orphanage AU: Lams
ФанфикAlexander Hamilton was adopted into an orphanage when he was younger and now, 20 years old, works there. John Laurens was raised in a homophobic household and signs up for a stay-away job as a teacher at an orphanage... in New York. Both from unha...
