Letters - A Phillip Hamilton X Male Reader

Chapter 48: Tricks.

For a few moments, the two men had sat, Phillip had not yet answered what Y/N has asked. Y/N had then sighed, letting his hand rest upon his right cheek as he stared at Phillip from across the table; "Phillip—must i remind you that we are enemies? I am not revealing things to you anytime soon." He then looked down at his palms, awaiting a reply from his dear enemy.

"Why not?" Phillip had asked.

Y/N slowly replied, "We are enemies, are we not? You should hold no interest in any of what I have to say, nor should I hold any interest in what you have to say."

Phillip had not answered for yet another moment. "Its kinda funny.." He breathed, "we're enemies.. and yet we're spending time together." Y/N had looked up from his lap, gaining a slight death glare to shoot into Phillips eyes of deep, piercing ocean blue. Oh, those eyes, he despised with every pit of his soul. Had he ever met someone with such irritating physical features before? Maybe it was only because it was Phillip whom had them.

But then Y/N had seen his expression, the way he had been staring. An emotion he hadn't yet seen on Phillips face had been present, an emotion he didn't think the man had even been capable of. Sadness. His light blue eyes didn't seem tearful, but oh, they glistened with a deep hurt Y/N himself could not wish to bear.

"Y'know, for a bit, I was enjoyin' the time we were spendin' together.." His voice had been laced dry with a deep sadness, Phillip had averted his gaze, and had seemingly been forcing a smile—his smile barely managed to keep itself together on his light-brown skinned face covered in freckles.

Y/N had only found himself staring—what was he to do in a situation like this? His enemy was sad because of him—perhaps it was good? Perhaps he was supposed to insult him? Maybe that would work in place of his hatred, and yet, he only found.. pity. Pity. A feeling he had rarely felt. Filling up his stomach like water filling up a bucket.

Y/N sighed, he had let pity pour out his next words; "I.. apologize." He hadn't seen Phillips face as he stared down at his lap, though he guessed it to be that of shock. "It seems i... may have gotten carried away. I may have taken it a bit far." His voice was monotone, as he continued to stare down at his lap.

"If i.." Y/N paused—feeling a distant red slowly coming to fill his face from the sheer embarrassment he had been feeling—feeling pity for his enemy! Why did he ever allow himself to be open with such emotions around him? "If I told you.. something about myself, something you didn't know, would that make you feel better?"

Phillip still didn't say a word in reply, though for a split second, Y/N had looked up—Phillip had then awkwardly breathed out a word, "Your.. your actually gonna tell me?" Y/N then looked away almost immediately, "Yes. I suppose i am." Stiff silence filled the conversation yet again, and Y/N then awkwardly placed a hand upon his own other hand.

"I.." Y/N awkwardly began, "I may not.." He continued to stammer—his face still flushed red as he continued to avert his gaze from his enemy's eyes of light blue—pastel baby blue, "I.. I don't find you as.. irritating as I may continue to say, even if you do get on my nerves sometimes. You may be a pain, yes, but.. but I do admit, even if I do hate you, it is nice to.. to have someone else other than those I regularly hang around with me. And I will admit.. your presence is at least better than no ones."

Silence had filled the conversation yet again, and for a moment, Y/N had heard shuffling from right in front of him—his enemy was most likely moving, though he couldn't exactly see what he was doing right now. "Heh," Phillips voice had suddenly gone from sadness to that of smugness. "So you don't hate me, do you?" Y/N could feel a sudden warm sensation on his hand—Phillip had placed his hand on his own yet again.

Y/N awkwardly swallowed his spit, but replies in his regular monotone voice; "Do not be ridiculous, Phillip. Of course I hate you."

Phillip had then let out a soft chuckle. "And yet you were so easy to soften up." Y/N had then realized what Phillip had possibly been eluding to, he had now known. He had been led into yet another one of Phillips traps—Phillip had tricked him! It hadn't been a prank this time, but—but he actually managed to—

Y/N looked into Phillips piercing eyes, rage had now been filling his face—or at least he thought it to be rage. Y/N knew his own face was red from his own anger, he had been tricked, and yet his enemy only continued to smirk at him from across the table! How could he?!

"Your face is turnin' red, you know." Phillips voice had been soft, yet teasing nonetheless. The smugness in his gaze had made Y/N want to punch him in his stupid face—in his cheek, in his neck. He just wanted to—to take out his anger upon him! "You.. you tricked me." Y/N had managed to say, his voice breathy from his own embarrassment.

"Tricked you?" His voice remained teasing, "What makes you think that?"

"You motherfu—" Y/N stopped himself, "You—you tricked me into believing you actually felt bad! You—you—" Y/N continued to sputter nonsensical words, only staring at the eyes of his enemy with uncontrollable rage. He had lost his control—yet he had been to angry to care about his composure being absolutely lost due to this man whom he had despised so.

Instead of teasing him however, Phillip only began to let out a series of high pitched giggles—Y/N had only lightly punched him in the shoulder, and Phillip had let out an amused "Ow!" in response. He then let out a faint sigh as Y/N continued to ramble, "God, you—your so—" Y/N hadn't been able to even form his hatred into words.

"I'm so what?" Amusement filled Phillips tone, only watching with an oddly euphoric grin as Y/N had struggled to form what he had wanted to say. "Y—You—" Phillip had only chuckled loudly at Y/N still struggling to form his words, and had slightly leaned foward, placing his hand back on Y/Ns with a grin.

"Oh, baby—" He had obviously said that to anger Y/N further, "Your funny when you lose your composure." Instead of sounding smug, his chuckles had filled his words—he too had been struggling to slightly speak, though it had been amusement and not hatred for him.

"Do not call me that, you—" Y/N had then been cut off by the clearing of someone's throat.

"Ahem."

The waiter had come back, standing in front of their table with a rather impatient look, though he seemed calm anyway. Phillip had released his hand off of Y/Ns, but looked up at the waiter with a grin anyway—he began to talk to the waiter, struggling to keep his laughter in as he apologized for the sight.

Y/N had only quietly seethed. His enemy tricked him. And he had fallen for it. What was he to do now?

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