(Third book) Philip Hamilton X Reader: The almost truth can beguile

-Chapter 8: Daddy Jefferson-

Philip's P.O.V

"You see that, Jefferson?" Pops sneered as he held a large chunk of my hair (that was still attached to my head) in his hand. I sighed quietly as Pops showed his greatest rival my curls. "You said that your hair was the softest hair ever," Pops mocked Jefferson who folded his arms and cocked his eyebrow. "Feel the hair, Jeffersh*t," Pops dared. Jefferson, who was clearly not as invested in this affair as pops, rolled his eyes. "Hamilton, I refuse to participate in your pathetic attempt of trying to-" "Touch it," Pops demanded. "No," Jefferson sneered back. "I want you to touch it," Pops tried again, tugging at my hair making my head fall to the side. 

"Pops-" "Not now, Philip, the grown-ups are talking," Pops shushed me. 

"Touch your own son's hair," Jefferson dismissed as he tried to walk away. Pops pulled me, my hair, and the rest of my attached body toward Jefferson to block his exit.  "FEEL THE FLOOF, T. JEFF," Pops barked. Jefferson sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose and touched the curls. "Yeah, that's pretty soft," Jefferson admitted. "Softer than yours?" Pops grinned. "Whatever makes you sleep, Alexander," He sighed. Pops let go off my hair and I leaned my head back where it should be. "See ya later, loser," Pops waved at the indifferent Jefferson as he turned around. "You can go, son. Good job," Pops gave me the finger guns and a pat on my shoulder before leaving. I smiled until he fully turned around but right after I dropped to a neutral face. I looked at Jefferson who still had his arms folded. 

"Can't believe you live with that thing," He mumbled before turning around and heading for the door. I look at the ground and back at Jefferson who was about to leave, twitching my fingers nervously. "Sir Jefferson," I called catching his attention as he opened the door. "Yes?" He groaned, turning around. After taking in a deep breath, I said: "So there is this girl-"

"Oh, Philip dear," Jefferson shook his head. "Let's discuss this in my office," He told me before opening the door wider so I could pass through first. I nodded and exited the congress hall. We walked all the way to the other side of the hall and ended up in Jefferson's office.  Jefferson walked up to his desk and sat down in his magenta-colored swivel chair. Yes, my dad explained that Jefferson invented this new concept of having wheels under a chair to get easier access to everything around you. He put his legs on his desk and motioned for me to sit down on the chair infront of his desk.

"You're so extra," I sighed before sitting down. "I have the eyes of God, my boy," He shrugged. "Continue with your story," Jefferson said. I rolled my eyes. "Right," I coughed. "So there's this girl-" "Wait," Jefferson almost immediately interrupted me. "Your dad has told me about your fox-ways. In other words, you know how to get the ladies. Why are you coming at me with a girl-issue?" He asked. "Because-" "Oh sh*t," He interrupted me once again. "It's not about the ladies, it's about a specific girl, isn't it?" Jefferson grinned, removing his legs from the table and leaning forward. I inhaled to talk but he interrupted me. Again. "Is this some true love sh*t? Because trust me, boy. It probably ain't-"

"Jefferson, shut up," This time I was the one to interrupt him. "Right, excuse me. Please, continue," He apologized before intently listening to me. I leaned back in my chair. "There's this girl," I repeated. "She is really kind and sweet but she's not like all the other girls,"

"Ugh, Philip, you really sound like you're trying to explain your book idea to me," Jefferson cringed and acted as if he was going to puke. Rethinking the life choices I made to end up in this situation, I chose to ignore him and continue. "She seemed to be immune against any flirtation tactic I've used on her," I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose.

"The nice guy?" He asked. "Did that. She fell into a fountain and I helped her up," I said. "How about the obvious flirt?" Jefferson tried to reason. "I told her to take her dress off and that I could help," I sighed. "Nice," He smirked. "But have you tried the jerk?" Jefferson asked, cocking his eyebrow. "She climbed up my window and I was like all smug but she just barked back," I explained. Jefferson sat back. "This will take some reverse psychology. She is clearly oblivious to everything you do," Jefferson clicked his tongue. "The oblivious guy?" He asked. "DUDE." I almost yelled. "I literally took off my shirt, laid next to her and helped her take off her corset and I was the only one who was blushing," I ranted.

"Oof," Jefferson snorted. "When did you guys meet?" He asked. "Yesterday afternoon," I answered which made him choke on air. "My dude, you have been doing it all wrong!" He yelled at me and put his hands in his hair. "You're supposed to uphold a trope for at least a week! She probably thinks you're some kind of unsure snowflake!" He shrieked before sighing to calm himself down. 

"No," He told himself. "I am Thomas Jefferson. I have never ever failed to seduce a female or help my friends seduce a female," He said, rubbing his temples. "We are not friends," I told him but he just straight up ignored me. "I'm going to help you, friend," He told me. "Notcha friend," I repeated. 

"I presume you and your fast-paced confused self have already tried the 'I have options' guy?" He asked. "Auwch," I sarcastically said, "And yes, I sent her off with a letter for this Rachel girl I have been writing so she could see the 'competition'," I said. "But obviously she isn't competing, you just want her to think she could be," Jefferson smirked. "Yes," I said. "Good, keep that up for a week lover-boy. Come back in a week and tell me everything," Jefferson grinned. "Don't ever call me lover-boy again," I sighed as I stood up.

"Okay, friend," 

I shot him a stare and he gave me a toothy grin in return.