Battlefield (A Lams story)

Chapter 16

A lot of people don't realize that you don't have to feel love to identify it. Just by feeling its absence you can tell when it's there because it's like a void has been filled. John André, a spy for the British army, knew love, not by his first experience, but by its non-existent appearance growing up.

He grew up with a not super well-known family. He father was a merchant and his mother a housewife. His father, being a merchant, was hardly home because he was traveling trying to sell his products. His mother on the other hand, was home all the time except that his mother only cared enough to keep him and his siblings alive. Nothing more, nothing less. The only type of love was sibling love, which isn't the same as love from your parents or significant other. Sibling love was full of play, not admiration.

Never feeling the true feeling of love, it was quite an experience when he did feel it.

He was originally a Major in the British in British army, but he got an offer to spy on the American army, and for the sum of money offered, he couldn't refuse. When he was finally enlisted in the American camp, he was given a volunteer to show him around. That volunteer happened to be none other than Alexander Hamilton himself.

Though it as vague, he could remember waiting for his guide in the front, standing in the middle of soldiers pushing past to carry out their task, not knowing what to do or say. What he did remember clear as day was the minute he spotted him. A hurricane of red curls tied in the back wearing a green camouflage uniform was making his way over. The closer the boy seemed to get, the more André was feeling flustered. He felt his stomach doing summersaults over and over again, as if it was stuck on repeat.

When the boy stopped in front of him giving a warm smile that made his breath hitch.

Upon further inspection, the male had a strong, prominent nose, violet eyes that sparkled with passion, and the cutest freckles that spread from cheek to cheek that André had ever seen. His hair had the color of a wildfire and his frame was incredibly thin for a male. (Both of which André thought was adorable) Heck, this guy could cut him with his cheekbone, and he'd apologize.

It was only when the red head snapped his fingers in André's face did he realize that he was studying the male when he should've been indeed listening. He snapped out of his daze to find that the male he was previously studying was looking at him expectantly. Too embarrassed to ask him to repeat what he said, he just nodded and smiled, hoping it wasn't a question. To his dismay, it was.

"Perfect! I'm Alexander Hamilton! I umm..... I don't know if you know this, probably, but I'm one of your bunkmates.... Tada...!" Hamilton said, awkwardly doing jazz hands.

André had to stifle a laugh which ended up sounding like a muffled snort, which was quite loud anyway. Hamilton awkwardly chuckled and looked up once again at the giant he was to show around.

"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm a whole new level of awkward and you're stuck with me!" Hamilton joked, playfully punching his new bunkmate.

"Can't be worse than I am, did you see me? I was literally in everyone's way but too awkward to say anything,"

André watched as Hamilton chuckled at that, letting his eyes flutter shut as his head lifted up a bit. His little giggle defiantly was a sound André would like to hear again. It was as smooth as a sugar glazed donut and as joyful as a kid at Disney, yet still had that bit of awkwardness hidden making it all Hamilton's.

"Yeah. You were kinda awkward," Hamilton teased, gently pushing his almost new-found friend.

"Told you s- wait a minute-"

"What? I'm just repeating what you said!"

"Yeah, but it's fine when I make fun of myself but when others do it, it hurts!"