Slipping Into The Future

Chapter 10

Hamilton's head may explode at any moment if this man does not shut his mouth. His lips tug into a deep scowl as he stands at Washington's right side, clenching his jaw shut to avoid any outbursts that will surely upset His Excellency.

"Hamilton, we cannot go through with this. It is a mistake," Reed replies to Hamilton's statement from earlier, his tone bitter and gritty from hours of talking. Hamilton feels his face twist in disgust.

"With all due respect, sir," Hamilton bites back with malice, his face heating with rage boiling his blood. His tone is sharp enough to cut through the room. Everyone stares at him and Washington sighs, rubbing his eyebrow with a scowl. "Your plan will be the mistake, here."

Hamilton levels with his eyes, refusing to break eye contact. He may be the shortest one in the tent, but his fierce energy is the biggest of them all. The humidity of the early August air does not help with his fury warming his cheeks.

"Let us discuss this later. I need my men level-headed before we resume this conversation," Washington announces with gritted teeth. His voice is always soft, but his tone of voice is always one that brings people to a halt.

Hamilton resists the urge to pat his heated face and nods curtly, looking away from Reed. The other man huff's out angrily through his nose before stomping out of the tent. He walks directly into a man standing outside the tent, nearly causing the duo to topple over. Hamilton resists the urge to laugh by biting his cheek and busying himself with neatly piling correspondence on the table. He refuses to look in Tighlman's direction, knowing the man's face alone will have him bursting at the seams.

"My apologies. I did not see you leave, sir," the tall man says with a sheepish look and an annoyingly charming southern drawl. Reed just grumbles something incoherent quite bitterly before stomping off. The stranger quickly stands at attention when Washington clears his throat.

"Ahh, Mr. Laurens. You made it a day earlier than expected," Washington says in a light tone, his face as stoic as ever.

Mr. Laurens approaches Washington and removes his hat before shaking his hand — revealing his powdered hair tied neatly in a queue with a silky black ribbon. "The journey went by much smoother than originally intended, sir."

"That is good to hear. Glad to have you on board. May I introduce you to two of my aides-de-camp? Lieutenant-Colonel's Tighlman and Hamilton," Washington says with the smallest hint of a smile.

"We are quite grateful to have an extra hand around here, Mr. Laurens," Tighlman says earnestly as he graciously shakes the stranger's hand. Hamilton supposes since they will be working closely for the unforeseeable future, he may no longer be a stranger. He still cannot decipher if Mr. Laurens will become a Reed or Tighlman in his life. "That man who nearly trampled you was another aide-de-camp — Reed," Tighlman adds with a bright grin.

Mr. Laurens' expression drops into a hilarious display of fear and despair. "I did not intend to have such a poor introduction!"

"Ah, nobody likes Reed — and Reed likes nobody," Tighlman replies with a friendly pat on Mr. Laurens' shoulder. Hamilton can see the man's muscles spasm under the older man's powerful grip. "Even if you were the most polite gentleman, Reed would still hate you, somehow. I am convinced that man has no soul."

Washington shakes his head modestly, but Hamilton is sure he catches the briefest hint of a smirk on his face before it vanishes as soon as it has appeared. Mr. Laurens turns at that moment and Hamilton finds his eyes are captured into the brightest crystal-blues he has ever seen. Hamilton stands up as tall as he can, looking up at Laurens with a set jaw. He holds out his hand and shakes it firmly; nodding and smiling cordially.