Hamilton Oneshots

Burn #2

TW: Very small implication at a dirty joke

"The Reynolds Pamphlet? Really?" John picked up the paper off the stand. "The narcissism of this guy, naming his paper after himself..." He opened it and read the first page, fidgeting with his wedding ring.

His eyes widened. "Alexander Hamilton and Maria Reynolds... Affair?"

He glanced around, quickly shoving the paper into his bag. He could see other people staring, and he could see the pity in their eyes. It wasn't real though... Was it...? 'I'll read it later...'

Later turned out to be in a few minutes once he had gotten home, his eyes frantically scanning the paper. No... No, this couldn't be real...

But it was so detailed... almost disgustingly so. But why would Alex do this?

Well, why the hell did Alex do anything?

He read further, becoming more and more disgusted and more and more heartbroken with every line. And he was getting angrier. He eventually threw the paper across the table, angry tears welling in his eyes.

Only then did he see the picture on the back. Alexander, kissing Maria Reynolds. The caption read; 'His poor husband.'

That's what sent him over the edge. The tears that before were solely furious, were now from him falling into hysteric sobs, crumpling up the paper, and throwing it into the fire.

Eventually, he got a grip on himself, but the tears just kept coming. He was quieter, but it just hurt ten times more than before. His chest was throbbing, and he couldn't care less that Alexander was going to be home in an hour.

He just didn't care anymore.

~~~~~~

"John! I'm home!"

Alex walked into the house, a smile on his face. He put his bag down, and walked into the living room. "John?"

John was just staring at the fire, seated on the ground in front of the flames. The streaks of tears running down his face were glowing in the firelight, making them twice as noticeable. He held a piece of paper in his hands, briefly looking over another copy of the pamphlet. A stack of papers sat next to him, and he couldn't even hear his husband when he came in.

"John? Baby? What are you doing?" Alex walked closer, and saw that the papers were love letters he'd sent. "John...?"

Without a word, John handed him the pamphlet, still not taking his eyes off the flames. Tears were still flowing rapidly from his eyes, dampening the front of his shirt.

Alex took it, wondering what was going on. He didn't read it, just put it down and knelt next to his husband. "John...? What's going on, are you ok?"

"Just- read the paper." His voice came out horse and broken, hardly making it over a whisper. His chest was aching, and he still didn't take his eyes off of the fire in front of him, his hand slowly creeping towards the stack of letters by his side. He thought for a moment, grabbing the top paper.

"Although, you already know what it's talking about."

He clenched the letter in his hand, quickly making sure he didn't read too much of it. But before he did, his eyes caught the first line, saying, 'Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships-' before he ripped his gaze away from the letter written in his husband's handwriting.

"What? John, what are you talking about?"

"Just read it."

Alex flipped to the first page. "What the fuck...?" He flipped through it, eventually reaching the back, with the picture. Maria and him.