The Smell of Coffee and Paper: A Hamilton Au

Chapter Nine

Okay, so I just got a beautiful new cover from @florencemaude. She is a phenomenal writer, go check out her story Sovereignty and Servitude. It's amazing!!! But here we go, sorry this chapter was a week late.

Alexander Hamilton V

 When I wake up my throat hurts, like a mixture of a sore throat and choking. The excess of grease from last night so overwhelmingly awful. But, I'm glad I ate the extra pieces, because now I can throw up and run. And the pillow divider helped the balance even more. Every time that I woke up halfway about to start hugging John, I would lay flat back out again and fall back asleep.

At some point during the movie, Laf whispered in my ear about how 'I'll be on sick leave for the next two weeks. Maybe two depending on my progress.' It is very jarring that I don't need to wake up at 3:15 to go to the coffee shop. But, I can't leave the bed. It was bad enough that these people were paying for me, and housing me, I couldn't go out and just sit in their house without their permission. The sinking knot had already started to grow, and the very last thing that I needed right now was for an attack to happen. I couldn't do that to John.

Around 6:45 a series of rustling sounds came from the kitchen area. That must be Herc. Herc said he'd go on a run. I need to go on this run. The food will never leave, I'll be so fat and then there'd be more of me. And then-

My worrying is cut off by John shifting in his sleep and mumbling, as if he was having a bad dream. Slowly and carefully sliding out of his bed, I try to glide into the kitchen as quietly as possible.

"Alexander," Herc greets me, placing his half full water bottle on the counter, "You're up early."

The balance is so in my favor right now, I could talk forever. "Just, ingrained in my memory, you know. With the coffee shop." My voice gives out, I usually don't talk early in the morning. All the coffee shop customers early in the morning are regulars. Regulars get that I can't talk, they get that the balance would be thrown off. "You're going on a run?" I eventually ask.

"Well, I am." After a moment of hesitation he offers what I knew he would, "Do you want to join? I was going to do a long run, 25 miles. I'm training for an ultra marathon. But, after all that pizza I'm thinking around, let's say, 14. I have a loop. It's a bit long, but-"

"I'd love to. I'm ready when you're ready." I jump in, the excitement flowing through me. All of this grease and fat and everything was going to be gone. The balance would be totally restored to its former messed-up-ness, but restored nonetheless.

The surprise is wiped off of Herc's face in half a second. "Are you okay to go with what you have on, or are you going to change?"

"I'm good with what I have," I reply, my tone getting an excited edge to it. I haven't heard that edge in forever, I need to eat more greasy foods. This is amazing.

"Okay then, give me a second and we'll be ready to go. Just so you know, I don't know how fast you run, but I usually run 9-10 minutes miles. That fine for you?"

"Sure. I usually run 7-8 minute miles, but I also usually only run 3-4 miles." That's all the wiggle room I have in the balance. All I can do without having to do something to make up for it.

Someone saw me run in highschool, and got me signed up for the cross country team. I loved it, but to make the balance okay again after all the races, I'd have to either overeat, not eat, or if the situation was really bad (for example my P.R. of 15:03) I would cut. Never a big enough cut that someone would notice (Dad never liked when I cut, he didn't care) and I never wanted to disappoint when I was with Dad.

But today I could just run. I caught the tail end of Herc's amazed face.

"Well speedy boy, let's go." With a pointed glance at me, he smiled and said, "I knew those skinny limbs would mean you're a runner. Laf disagreed. He thought you were anorexic."