The Place to Be - John Laurens x male reader

Chapter 3

I'm up way before dawn. I have no-one to write to and no-one writes to me, so the mail boy has nothing to give me and I have nothing to give him. I assume he's got used to it. He doesn't even come round to my tent anymore to pick up non-existent mail. Saves him a useless journey.

I really need to start getting to sleep earlier. It's ridiculous, I can barely focus on the task at hand, even when it's sitting outside my tent and waiting in the pitch black for the sunrise. It's too dark to read, and rather cold to be sitting outside. Yet here I am, trying to avoid nodding off, outside my tent, shivering in my uniform, when I could easily go back inside, light an oil lamp and read one of the few books I have. Don't ask me why, because I couldn't give you an answer. I suppose the cold is keeping me awake. I would not want to be found at nine in the morning, drooling over A Divine and Supernatural Light by Jonathan Edwards. It would be disgraceful.

A tiny ray of sunlight can be seen over the horizon. It's still utterly freezing, but I can't help feeling a little warmer.

What I don't expect is John Laurens to come bounding up to me, having appeared from thin air as the sky slowly gets lighter.

"Lieutenant," he salutes, grinning at me. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Could ask you the same question," I grumble. "But instead I'll go with: why are you so cheerful this early?"

"I'm a morning person," he smiles, standing next to the chair I'm seated on.

"Lucky you," I groan, rubbing my eyes. "At least that'll get you up ready and early to start training."

Laurens flashes a smile at me and bounds off, undoubtedly to wake up Hamilton, Mulligan and Lafayette. I have to feel sorry for them. Imagine being a morning person. Chuckling very softly under my breath to myself as I go back into the slightly warmer tent. I can see now, which does help.

***

"I want everyone in a line NOW!" I bark, watching in amusement as the soldiers scurry into a single file line. It's strange to have people following my orders. I've only been Lieutenant for a few months. 

"Tallest to shortest," I correct, restraining the urge to laugh as the men try to figure out how tall they are. Another Lieutenant gives me a strange look, and I take that as a signal that I have to kind of get on with the training program.

"I want you all to run around the entire camp five times," I order. "No cutting corners, or you have to complete an extra five laps. Now GO!"

I suddenly realise that I probably have to follow them. I rather reluctantly begin to run after them, quickly getting near to the front. What can I say, I'm a fast runner. Three years in the army does that to you. I can't help but notice Mulligan and Lafayette seem to be at the front along with my friend Johnson. I did pass Hamilton at the back, but I haven't seen Laurens yet. He's probably in the throng in the middle. "Keep it up, gentlemen!" I bark, slowing down my run so as not to completely overtake everyone else.

"Is that your jogging pace?" Mulligan cries, looking at me in disbelief. 

"I've been in the army since I was sixteen, Mr. Mulligan," I say. "I don't think you want to see my sprinting pace."

Mulligan nods and keeps his breath steady so as not to run out of breath completely. I notice Hamilton at the back try to stop and walk for a bit. I slow down until I get to where he is. "Hamilton, I know you can make it. Come on!" I usher him forward. "You can jog if you want, but don't stop and walk. You can't walk when you're being chased by redcoats holding bayonets!"

"Good point," he gasps, maintaining a painfully slow jog. "Five laps?!"

"It'll be over before you know it," I reassure him.

The run is over before I know it. I probably could have managed an extra lap, only being a bit out of breath. However, I don't think the same could be said for the rest of the enlisted. A couple seem to be fine, but most of them are on the floor, wheezing and gasping for air. I look at them despairingly. This might take a while to get them in shape.

I notice John Laurens walk up to me. His hands are on the back of his head and he's breathing heavily. That's a good technique, having your hands on your head helps you get more oxygen into your lungs. I'm slightly impressed that Laurens knows that. Glancing at him, I shout to the rest of the men, "Put your hands on your head, gentlemen! It gets oxygen into your lungs!"

"I thought I was the only one who knew that," Laurens looks at me, looking rather bemused and impressed.

"Hey, you're the first soldier I've met who knows the technique," I smile, trying not to blush at his direct eye contact. It's always been uncomfortable for me, but how is he to know that? He looks people in the eye everyday like it's nothing. I'm just weird. I decide to focus on his forehead and some of the freckles that dot it. However, Laurens, who's apparently very observant, notices.

"Are you ok?" He asks, sounding slightly concerned.

"I'm fine. I'm just uncomfortable with looking people directly in the eyes. I'm not sure why," I try to explain, hoping he'll understand. To my luck, he looks like he completely understands as well as looking like he could punch himself at the same time.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" He cries. "I've been looking you in the eyes this entire time! I'll try not to from now on."

"You don't have to," I mutter.

"No, I will." He seems very determined. "If you don't like people looking at you directly in the eyes, why would I? I noticed you don't like shaking peoples' hands as well."

"You're incredibly observant," I say carefully. "Yes, I only like touching people I'm very comfortable with. Not touching in that way!" I add frantically, noticing Laurens is trying not to giggle. "Honestly!"

"Sorry," he apologises. "No it's fine, I understand. I mean, you clearly just have a different approach to other human beings as some people do, and that's totally fine! I notice that you managed to shake hands with Burr briefly. You must trust him, yes?"

"I don't trust him completely yet," I reply. "But he is closer than most people are. Thank you for understanding, my father just thinks I'm strange."

"Since when was being strange a bad thing?" The man in front of me queries. "In my opinion, it's a compliment. Some people don't really understand that people are different. You just need to know that you'll always be you and no-one can change that."

And with that, Laurens smiles at me, turning around and heading back to his friends.

I'm left standing there, not entirely sure what to do. Did I just actually bond with another human being? Does he actually like me? I certainly think he's great now. I don't meet many people who are accepting of the fact that I'm slightly different. And I'm glad.

See, we're getting into the story now. Y/n'll be coming a bit more comfortable around Hamilton, Mulligan and Lafayette in later chapters. So now I ask you.

What Founding Father (apart from Laurens) should Y/n be closest friends with? Mulligan, Lafayette or Hamilton?

-AngelOfMusic7