Zero Two Three One | John Laurens X Reader [Hamilton]

LXXIV: Nine Flowers

❝Where flowers bloom, so does hope.❞
—Lady Bird Johnson

It was late in the night when my phone started ringing. I was still shaken from my repetitive dream of that beach, but I was able to forget about it only a moment later.

I rolled onto my back, looking under Maple and Boris to find my phone. I didn't look at the contact before answering groggily.

"Hello?"

"(Y/N)."

I sit up. "Alexander?"

"Did I wake you?"

"Yes! It's... It's late as all hell! Where are you?"

"I'm outside."

"What are you doing there, you idiot?"

"I left my keys at Reynolds'. Can you come down and unlock the front door? Please?"

I groan and hang up. I lay in bed for a second more, considering just going back to sleep and leaving him stranded outside (he can break a window or something). But I'm not that cruel. Not to him.

I slip out of bed, the sensation of my feet hitting the carpet below sending a shiver up my body. It wakes me up a little. I hobble over to the door, grabbing a robe to throw over my silk nightgown. Muttering under my breath, I leave my room and go downstairs, making my way to the front door.

I unlock the door, and when I open it, Alexander is revealed behind it, looking utterly exhausted, but relieved to see me nonetheless.

"Hi."

I scowl. "Alexander, you moron."

He frowns, then he presents me with a pot of flowers. "I brought you this."

My eyes flutter to the pretty pink flowers, feeling my heart melt, but unwilling to immediately soften to him.

I grab his hand and pull him into the house, slamming the door behind him and dragging Alexander into the kitchen.

"You idiot, it's nearly five in the morning," I hiss. "You should have just stayed at Reynolds' place."

He slides the flowers onto the counter.

"I had things to do," Alexander says, tugging off his single glove and pulling off his coat. "God, it's fucking freezing."

I press the back of my hand to his cheek and frown. "Dummy. You wouldn't be so cold if you weren't out when you should be in bed."

"I know."

"You use your head for the most ridiculous shit but not for common sense."

He nods, not bothering to deny it. "I know."

There's a lot I want to ask, mainly about Maria. But I'd rather expell those thoughts from my mind.

So I withhold those questions while I place a kettle on the stove and fill it with water.

"I'm sorry for having to wake you," Alexander coos, observing me with a soft gaze. "I didn't think I'd be out this late."

"What were you doing? Surely Reynolds didn't keep you this long," I huff, facing him again.

A ghost of a grin tugs at Alexander's lips. "Actually, I think you'll like my reason." Seemingly out of nowhere, Alexander produces a small notebook.

"What's that?"

"Senator Adams' diary."

I choke on air. "What?!"

"This self-righteous, snarky, tight-ass motherfucker has a fucking diary!"