runaways [ lams ]

03 | drunken goodnights

extra trigger warning since the most important one is in the description: death, suicide, and self harm mentions :(

Alex stared at the ceiling as he lay in the creaky bed. He'd tried to keep himself from overthinking, but that was proven useless. His mind never stopped harassing him, so what made this time any different? He was forced to replay Eliza's sweet voice telling him that she didn't feel the same way. The way she assumed he wasn't serious. How fucking dare she.

He remembered exactly how it happened, too. That's what was the worst part. He could feel knives impaling his heart every time he thought of it. That stupid Sunday night.

"Eliza.. I don't want you to think I'm weird, and I don't want this to ruin our friendship, but I kind of like you..? Not a lot, so don't feel pressured or anything. I just think it would be nice if you'd maybe go on a date with me?"

Her soft laugh rang through Alex's ears as tears prickled his eyes. He knew he shouldn't have done it. This was all so stupid.

"Alex... I don't.. Are you serious about this?"

"I..." Alex froze, eyes wide with panic as he tried to formulate an excuse to get himself out of this situation. "No. I.. I was dared to do this. Sorry to interrupt your night. I'm sure you're busy!"

"Oh, it's quite alright! Have a good night, Alexander."

Alex mentally cursed himself for not sticking with it. Maybe she would've pitied him and accepted the date, then she could see how much of a gentleman he was. His stupid fucking nerves got the best of him, and now he's in a cabin with a murderer who kills people impulsively.

He closed his eyes, a warm tear sliding down his cheek. He was so sick of all the heartache, and he was tempted to just fucking end it. End it because of Eliza. Maybe he could get on John's nerves and have him do the honour. Oh, what a wonderful plan that would be. Then Eliza wouldn't even blame herself.

Alexander smiled to himself, finally allowing himself to fall asleep. Of course, since his brain wouldn't let him be at peace, he had dreams of Eliza marrying someone else, having someone else's kids, and living life with someone else. Someone who wasn't Alexander Hamilton.

When Alex woke up, he had a terrible headache from crying himself to sleep. He groaned, closing his eyes and burying his face in his pillow. He remembered his thoughts from last night, reconsidered them, and decided that it was probably for the best anyway. It was one less person for his mother to take care of, John could get that adrenaline rush from killing him, and he'd finally be okay.

He heard John's faint voice singing from the kitchen. Alex took a deep breath, sliding out of bed and peeking his head in the doorway. "You sound like..." he struggled to insult John. He wanted to so badly, but he really couldn't. Anything negative he said would've been a lie.

John raised an eyebrow, setting the duster down on the counter and taking a step closer to Alex. "Like what?"

Alex bit his lip. "Uh.. an angel?" He blurted put in an unsure voice. "Fuck! That's not what I meant to say- I.. just mean that-"

John chuckled softly, lifting Alex's chin. "You really are like Martha, huh?

Alex narrowed his eyes, taking a step backwards. "What? What do you mean by that?"

"She always backtracked and doubted herself, but really, she was probably the smartest person I knew. She also had the most energetic and positive personality. See the similarities?"