Kingdoms In Ruling <Jamilton>

Chapter Sixteen...I'm Glad, Ser/

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\Jefferson POV/

I was woken quite abruptly due to the sudden sound of what seemed to be a fleshly being against wood, opening my eyes to see a wincing Hamilton on the ground. He looked at me sheepishly, eyes red.

"Oh, for fucks sake." I rolled my eyes, stretching out my limbs and pulling myself off the chair I had fallen asleep on, picking the smaller man up and putting him back gently onto the bed. "I'll go tell the servants to bring hot water for a bath, you stink."

"I don't have servants."

I looked at him weirdly, yet he seemed unfazed. "Slaves?"

"No. I fetch my own water."

"Of course you do." I mumbled, pushing him back down on the bed and throwing a blanket on him without care, relishing the small yelp he made as he was suddenly blinded in darkness.

I quickly sped off to go fetch the water myself, bringing buckets along with the help of one of the cooks I spotted, who seemed pleased to see Hamilton awake and somewhat well.

They chatted quietly as I poured the steaming water into the tub in the next room over, which seemed to be the bathroom. The walls were thin yet I couldn't hear what they were talking about, although I'm pretty sure I caught my name a couple times, along with some snickering.

"I'll be there for lunch, Pegs." I heard him say before there was a soft groan and a choked laugh, then giggling. "Easy with the hugging, Peggy, I'm just a bit broken." More giggling before I heard the girl skipping away, the sound of her footsteps fading.

I watched as Hamilton made his way towards the bathroom with little ease, wincing everytime he stepped wrong. He finally got to the tub and sat at the edge, preparing to pull off his shirt when he noticed I was still there. "Care to leave?"

"Can you even pull off your shirt?" I questioned, crossing my arms.

He stared at me for a long moment before attempting to do so, the blood making it difficult, added with the pain from moving his arms. Dang, he got real fucked up.

I sighed softly as I shut the door and locked it, kneeling down and taking the edges of the ruined fabric in my hands. I thought about it for a moment before finally looking up at him. "Do you have a knife?"

Hamilton's face was slightly pink as he nodded his head to the left, indicating where a slightly bloodied silver knife was. I didn't question it as I started to slice down the front of his shirt to take it off; it couldnt't be saved anyways.

It was surprising for the man to be so quiet, just staring at his lap. When I finally removed his shirt, I found why.

Scars of every shape and colour decorated his chest and ribs, some even peeking out from above his waistline. My eyes strayed on what seemed to be words carved into his collarbone, but I couldn't make out what it was. Most of them were small and thin, the biggest being one being right between the ribs, tracing along them in jagged white. It was horrifyingly beautiful.

"Done staring?" I looked up to see Hamilton's face still down, covered by his hair. He had mumbled it so quietly that I barely registered it, nodding more to myself and whispering a quiet 'yeah' as he couldn't see me.

He then surprised me by lifting a hand and pushing at my chest weakly. "I can take off the rest. Turn around or get out." I turned around.

I heard shuffling and then a soft 'shit' as Hamilton lowered himself into the still steaming water, grunting to indicate I could move. I turned around to see his skin red, yet he seemed unfazed.