Hamilton One Shots and Imagines

Alexander Hamilton- Gravestone (c)

Your knees were stained by the freshly turned dirt below you, whilst your skirts were roughly laid around you, soaking up the moisture of dirt. Normally you would care about the discolouration of your stockings and dress, but with the neckline of the dress equally stained by your tears, there was little care for anything else. Your shaky fingers clung onto the stems of the bouquet, the thorns of the roses pricking your skin, but the pain was lost to the numbness the cold had caused to your fingertips.

You ran your bloodied fingers along the smooth edge of the stone in front of you, a red smear following them.

"Alexander," you voice croaked, trying to let the words out but your sobs were too uncontrollable to make the best of sense.

Those around you were invisible to you. You had just been stood with them but now that the ground was covered, they wanted over your broken cries, observing the moment of your heart crushing within you.

"You promised you'd come home. You promised Alexander!" You sobbed.

No one answered, no one knew what to say. The only person you wanted to speak to was below you in the ground and could no longer respond. The number of times you had wished he would fall silent were lost to you, not only desperate to hear him voice once more.

"It's not the first time you broke a promise," you said, your voice filled with emotion; anger, frustration, pain and sorrow. "But it's your last."

The pain your husband had caused you over the years, breaking most of the promises he had given you, all you could long for was to feel that pain again instead of the pain that currently coursed through your veins.

Silently you sobbed, placing the flowers down at the foot of the gravestone, stuck in the moment of loss and pain.

The spatter of rain falling upon you was lost to you, the world full of nothingness until a hand pressed to your shoulder, snapping you back into reality.

"Y/N," your sister, Angelica said. "We must go now."

"One more moment," you whispered, your grip becoming firmer on the stone.

She crouched at your side, gently wiping away the tears that ran along your cheeks with her handkerchief.

"It shall not help pass the sorrow," she said softly. "The weather is turning, and you shall just become sick."

You pressed a tearful kiss to your hand before pressing it to the gravestone in a final goodbye to your husband.

~*~

Written by Charlotte.