The carriage wheels turned and turned on the bumpy road toward the mansion where the ball was held. The ride was bumpy and nauseating. Everyone's head bopped up and down, everyone's body went left and right and the girl's dresses made it so that everyone's legs were tangled. "What a lovely ride," Angelica commented. "Five more minutes, have patience," Eliza reassured.
Held at the mansion of a great politician, this ball would mark the beginning of the presidency of John Adams. Reluctantly Alexander had said he would attend the party with his family. "The dress looks good," Philip told Y/N with a grin as they were sitting next to each other. "Wanna switch clothes?" Y/N asked. Before Philip could answer, the carriage hit a big bump catapulting everyone up and down. Philip and Y/N's heads slammed together. Y/N groaned in pain while Philip rubbed his head and began to profusely apologize to Y/N.
Alexander, who was sitting next to the driver, cursed and then yelled: "Sorry guys! The road is as sh*tty as Jefferson's di-" Eliza coughed as loud as she could. Some of the older kids giggled and the tiniest asked what their dad just wanted to say.
"That's gonna be a bruise." Y/N complained as she rubbed the side of her head. "I think it's not that bad," Philip reassured as he held her head in his hands to inspect the bruise.
A few minutes passed and the carriage came to a smooth halt. The driver hopped off and opened the side door. A slightly dizzy Eliza stepped out followed by all her children. Philip stepped out and helped the last person, Y/N, get out. When everyone including Alexander got out, they all began staring at the big mansion in front of them.
"Hey dear," Eliza carefully said as she hooked her arm around her husband's. "Who is hosting the ball?"
"Hello, friend!" Jefferson yelled as Philip entered. "I'm not your friend," Philip reminded as he quickly walked past him. Jefferson looked slightly offended but wasn't as offended when Alexander breathed too loud that one time.
"How did you not know that this was Jefferson's party?" Y/N asked Alexander as they entered. "Washington failed to inform me," Alexander grumbled as they walked past Jefferson. "So you don't have your Jeffer-rocks with you?" She asked. "You underestimate me," Alexander smirked as he pulled out a big rock out of his jacket.
On the rock stood in cursive:
'Dearest Jefferson
You suck
Love
A. Ham'
Y/N shook her head with a grin. "My bad," she chuckled as they followed the late crowd toward the packed ballroom.
Wine poured into glasses as the laughing and cackling over the rich played on the background. The music by the tiny orchestra wasn't being paid attention to. Not yet, at least. When the main dances would commence, people would enjoy the rich and fluid music. The Hamilton family split into tiny groups and everyone headed their own way.
Philip and Y/N stuck together. Angelica found her best friend in the middle of the crowd, so she dumped her brother and ran towards her friend. "Typical," Philip said under his breath as he walked away with Y/N at his side.
Both of them got a glass wine from one of the servants and they started walking around the beautiful room. "How's George?" Philip suddenly asked. "Oh hush, you don't like to talk about him," Y/N waved her hand and sipped her wine. "Well, yeah... But how is he?" Philip insisted. "He's fine. I haven't seen him in a while. I guess he's been busy," Y/N pondered. "Okay, what have you been up to?" Philip asked to change the topic. "Well, you and your studies are preventing me from talking to you, so I have been taking some creative writing lessons from your dad," Y/N said a little salty.
"My bad, I want to be a lawyer," Philip chuckled. "You write a lot too right?" Y/N asked. "Well, yeah. College does require you to-" "No, no, no. I mean for your leisure," Y/N clarified. "What'd you mean?" Philip asked a bit concerned. "You write a lot in your diary, for starters,"
Philip nervously began to let out a few breathy laughs. "It's not a diary," He said. "Then what is it?" Y/N asked and looked to the side. With a quick scan around the room, Philip spotted Jefferson talking to some congressmen and then proceeded to smile at Y/N. "Excuse me," He said and patted her shoulder. "Dude, you can't do that," Y/N sighed. "I just did," Philip quickly said as he speed-walked over to Jefferson.
"Jefferson," Philip coughed as he stood walked up to him. "Hey, not-friend, how're you doing?" Jefferson spat, interrupting one of the congressmen in the middle of his sentence. "I need your help," Philip said. "Well, friends help each other but seemingly I am not your friend," Jefferson shrugged. "Sir, can we get back to business?" One of the congressmen impatiently asked. "My apologies, continue," Jefferson humbly said. "Thomas, I REALY need your help," Philip insisted.
Jefferson gave the son of his enemy a glance. "My deep apologies, legislators, I need to help the young man," Jefferson said and let Philip lead them toward a more secluded area, leaving the confused and offended congressmen behind.
"You started to talk about the boyfriend?" Jefferson cocked an eyebrow. "Amateur," He spat as Philip rubbed his eyes. "I'm not worried about that. I've been writing in this journal and-" "That is concerning. Are you keeping a diary, you pussy-"
"NO." Philip barked. "And stop being so mean, you're hurting my feelings," Philip oozed in. "Well, maybe you should apologize for saying you weren't my friend. I don't have a lot of friends and you and I get along pretty well," Jefferson spat back. "James Madison is your friend!" Philip argued. "James isn't-" Jefferson sighed. "Nevermind," He said covering his mouth and cheeks.
"Say sorry if you want me to help you," Jefferson demanded. "Okay!" Philip said. "I'm sorry," He mumbled. "You're desperate," Jefferson remarked. "Ya think?" Philip huffed and folded his arms. "You've got two options, Hamilton," He told Philip. "You buy a book that resembled your journal and write some crappy poetry-" "I'm a good poet," Philip interrupted. "That's what we all say," Jefferson continued. "-Or you start writing smart,"
"What'd you mean?" Philip asked. "Metaphors, be vague, use proverbs. You and I both know that you're writing something about her. Be smart and start thinking ahead," Jefferson encouraged. "Bold of you to assume that I haven't been doing that," Philip smirked to which Jefferson rolled his eye. "The son of his father," He mumbled. "What am I supposed to say to her now? She asked me what I'm writing in it," Philip said. "Simple, if you say that you're a 'great' poet then say it's your personal poetry," Jefferson said. "Okay, fine, I'll try that,"
"Also, don't worry about Eacker. I made sure his family wouldn't get an invite," Jefferson proudly said. Philip smiled as a great weight was lifted off his shoulders. The peace lasted for approximately 2.124 seconds as he looked over Jefferson's shoulder and spotted Eacker looking around.
His eyes widened as he pointed at him. Jefferson frowned and turned around. "Oh, wow, would you look at that," He mumbled. "June and Mark are going at it. How ravenous they are," Jefferson chuckled as he looked at the couple behind Eacker who were vigorously going at it. "In front of them, you moneybag,"
"Oh yeah," Jefferson guided his eyes toward Eacker. "That might be a problem,"
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(Third book) Philip Hamilton X Reader: The almost truth can beguile
FanfictionY/N Laurens, daughter of the former martyr John Laurens, ventures away from her home in South Carolina to 'explore' the rest of her great nation. On her way, she meets Philip Hamilton, son of Alexander Hamilton. Knowing who Philip was, Y/N reacts ac...
