I Heard A Rumour That We're In Love // Lams (HAMILTON)

Chapter Twenty Two

A/N: Sooooo, this is really late, I am sorry. I've gone back to school and it's really fucking with my mental health so I'm really struggling to write and I'm working on two other projects as well. I haven't forgotten this and updates will hopefully be back to normal now. If you're having a hard time, feel free to message me and I'll always answer. Enjoy! 

Trigger warnings for mentions of drug and alcohol abuse

John's POV: 

I wake up, not for the first time this week, with a pounding headache. I crack open one eye, immediately snapping it shut again at the almost offensive light streaming in through the windows. Laf bustles around, packing away pillows and blankets from last night. 

"Morning sunshine!" They call, far too cheerfully for the morning. 

"Do you have paracetamol?" Short and straight to the point. 

"On the bedside table." I flop over, grateful at the sight of a glass of water and two pills. I swallow the pills dry then chase them down with the water, falling back against the pillows, forearms thrown over my face to block out the light. 

Laf goes into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar so I could still see them. There's a beat of silence, then. 

"John, what the fuck?!" They yell, coming out of the bathroom. My eyes widen as I realise what he's holding. Last night's needle. 

"You better have a good explanation for this or so help me god." 

"I can't- I don't- I'm sorry," I stutter, wringing my hands around my wrists, trying to hide the grimace. 

They come and sit beside me, throwing the needle away as they do. 

"What happened, John? You said you were clean. You promised!" 

"I know!" I yell back, then I soften. "I know I did. I just- it's really hard." 

"You can talk to me, please. Anything, just not this." 

"I know I can talk to you, but it just- it hurts. It hurts so damn much and I don't know what I can do." 

"Talk to me. Please." I stare down at my hands fiddling with my fingers in my lap. 

"I'm sorry, Laf, I really am. I'm trying my best, I promise you I am. It just- I don't know how to explain it." I resist the urge to run my hands through my hair, scratch at my arms, anything. Instead, I stare down at them, neatly folded in my lap. 

"I know it's hard, John." There's a gentleness to their voice that just seems to grate on me. 

"No you don't!" I explode. "You have no idea what it's like! You say all this stuff like you know every thought that goes through my head but it's all bullshit!" 

"I'm just trying to help, John. Please, don't shut me out." My shoulders slump and I fight the tears pricking my eyes. 

"I know you are. I'm sorry. I'll try harder next time." 

"Talk to me next time. Even if I'm not sleeping here, send me a message and I'll come. No matter what time it is, no matter where I am. I'll be there for you." I nod slowly, tugging absently at my sleeves. 

"I will." They turn to me, an intensity in their eyes that I've rarely seen before. Behind that though, there's a plea. A desperate call for this all to stop. 

"Promise me, John. Promise." 

"I- I promise," I whisper, not meeting their eyes. They stand up, running a hand through their wild curls. "Laf," I call. They turn back to face me. "I really am sorry." They take a shaky breath. "I know you are."