Letters - A Phillip Hamilton X Male Reader

Chapter 34: A Panicked Ocean.

His enemy, always so cocky and full of pride, was panicking—letting out sharp inhales and exhales. Phillip Hamilton, always so immature and confident, was sitting upon his bed; hyperventilating. He looked as if he were about to faint, the poor man.  Y/N had looked at the man whom he had never seen in such a state, for a split second, Y/N could almost feel himself giving into his own emotion—possibly even panicking as well.

"Hamilton?" Y/N had softly breathed, looking at the freckle-faced man. He then found himself looking into Phillips baby blue eyes of endless pastel oceans, though they only gave off a sense of chaos and panic. Phillip pulled at the tendrils of his hair, and had yelped; "I—do—do you think I'm dying?! Do—do you think—"

His words became incoherent, fading into anxious babbling and whining as he slowly bowed his head, sharp exhales and gasp coming from out of his mouth as soft yet painful fear slowly accumulated into his usually confident aura. When had he ever shown such an anxious appearance? The very sight of him not smirking was strange.

Y/N felt his eyes widen, and his lips tremble as he continued to only awkwardly look at the man, though he forced his expression to revert back to that of neutrality. He had to remain calm, he would only make the situation worse if he showed emotion as well, or that's at least what he thought it would do.

Hesitantly, Y/N stood up from his seat, setting down his brush of color before doing so. Phillip only buried his face into his legs, letting out an intense gasp, releasing an amount of panic into his body without meaning to; oh, the man's very body trembled with each breath he let out or let in.

Y/N had began to walk over rather quickly, though he took each step with great carefulness, as he did not wish to trip. After all, that would be embarrassing—and it would only make the situation even more worse than it had already been. Y/N had found himself standing right next to Phillips bed, looking down upon the anxiety-filled man with no emotion, or at least a lack of any.

"Hamilton." He softly said, in an attempt to get the man to look at him, though Phillip had only lashed his head upwards and began to talk at a rapid pace again.

"Help—help me—"

"Hamilton—"

"I'm dying, I don't want—no, I don't want to—"

"Hamilton, please—"

"I don't wanna—no, no!"

"Hamilton!.."

Y/N hadn't yelled at the man, and only slightly raised his voice so the man would hear him over the roaring waves of his anxiety. He had found that he had placed his hands on Phillips shoulders, causing Phillip to look at him—oh, his face! So terrified, so shocked. Y/N didn't think he'd ever witness such a thing.

"Hamilton,"  Y/N spoke in a slightly softer yet still blank tone, "I would like you to breathe for me, alright? I shall assist you in doing such a thing—"

"No—no, I cant!" Phillip whimpered, "I can't do it, I cant—"

"Yes you can, I am here—" Such words were rather strange-sounding for such an emotionless man to say. "I shall inhale with you, just listen to me and follow along, alright? Breathe in—"

Y/N had inhaled, and Phillip had mimicked the sound of inhaling, though it sounded sharp and desperate with anxiety. "Breathe out." Y/N had exhaled, and Phillip had done so as well, his voice still ripe with sheer panic and slightly lowering anxiety.

"Breathe in," Y/N inhaled. Phillip had inhaled as well, the anxiety in his tone slightly lowering once more. "Breathe out." Y/N exhaled. And Phillip had done so his well, he sounded as if he were a canyon echoing back someones words. How long this continued for, Y/N did not know, though he guessed either one minute or two minutes.

"You are doing adequate, Hamilton—I will not be leaving anytime soon. This will not last long, fear not." Y/Ns voice had been calm, soothing almost; though for whatever reason, the same voidless ice was still in his tone. Phillips breathing had slowed, though he did not seem to be completely out of his panicked state just yet; and for a moment, Y/N had found.. a lingering sense of pity. He felt sorry. For his own enemy. It wasnt visible on his face, but in his heart, it had lingered on.

Why? Why was he feeling sorry for his enemy? Sure, he had shared an amount of concern for some of the things he had said, though he had never felt exactly bad for the man. He was an arrogant, prideful bastard, nothing more. He was a cruel man whom had pranked and messed with him for so long, so why did he feel bad? Y/N could not understand. And perhaps, he never would understand.

Y/N hadn't noticed as he was calming the man, but he had sat back down in the chair next to Phillip Hamiltons bed. After all, it would get exhausting to keep standing next to his bed while attempting to soothe the man.

"How do you—how do you know I'm not gonna die?" Phillip had asked, curiosity slightly trembling in his still anxious gaze. Y/N had paused in reply, though he did eventually give his answer in the most calming tone he could; "Your injuries are not that deep, had they been bleeding out longer, that is where you possibly would have died. Signs of you dying would have been more obvious, for.. for example.."

"You would have difficult breathing, congested lungs, less urine, you would not be able to swallow—if you were dying, I would have known, though I cannot be sure if your parents would have known." Y/N explained, the silence and softness in his tone visibly present, yet he still sounded blank.

"How do you know all of that?" Phillip had asked, he sounded a bit more soothed, though the tremors of his panic attack had a very present effect on his voice. Y/N wondered if his voice would remain like this for possibly the rest of the day, after all, a panic attack would surely be very effective on the freckled man. Though after processing Phillips question, he did not answer for a few moments.

...

"I have medical knowledge, even though I may not be a doctor or of any medical profession myself. I do not lack basic intelligence of such a thing." Y/N had bowed his head, he then rested one of his hands on Phillips wrist. "But your injuries are not fatal, I assure you. You are going to be alright, Hamilton. Your.. your family will not allow anything to happen to you."

Phillips face; it was filled with relief, though shock was more present than anything else. His light blue eyes flickered, and he then asked in a rather shaky tone; "Why are you doing this for me?"

"...I do not believe I would like to answer such a question."

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