Letters - A Phillip Hamilton X Male Reader

69: Searching.

"Are you certain she didn't give it back to you? I'd hate to think my daughter would be so forgetful about such a thing."

"Yes.. I am quite certain. Otherwise, I would have received it back by now."

Y/N's arms shuffled within the belongings of the interior of the spare room. There were different jackets, clothes, make-shift bracelets. There were also collars for presumably whatever animals they must have owned, jewelry that Mary must have thrown out, and so on. Within the shadows of the spare room, Y/N continued to search.

As he searched, he bowed his head with a blank frown and furrowed his brows. For a moment, he shifted his eyes as he scooted to another corner in the room, before speaking again.

"..what are you doing awake at this hour anyway, sir?"

"Huh? Oh.. I was searching for some money I lost from my wallet recently. Only a sum of thirty dollars." Mr. Swanson let out a sigh, brushing a hand against his face as he thought wistfully of the money had lost. "Ah.. such cruel fate. And at a time when I needed that money the most.."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, there was recently a horse I planned on purchasing for a cousin of mine. She specifically wanted that horse, but the owner said it would cost at least that amount of money. Of course, it was no problem—seeing as I am wealthy. But now it seems fate has made it vanish.."

"I see.. well.. apologies, sir. I hope you manage to find your money soon."

"Ah, thank you.." Mr. Swanson paused. "Why did you come so late yourself, Y/N? I hardly ever see any visitors who come at this hour."

Y/N hesitated for a moment, his hands stopping. "..I had only realized that Mary hadn't given the necklace back yet as I was preparing to head to bed. The necklace belongs to a relative of mine, so I rushed here to search for it. I do need it back after all.."

"Ah—I see." Mr. Swanson uttered. "Mm.. well, I doubt she would keep it from you intentionally. Maybe Mary did forget after all. But she's usually so capable of remembering things.."

"..is she now?"

"Yes.. not only that. She's been acting a bit off as of lately. I hope she isn't feeling.." Mr. Swanson's stare then lingered down at Y/N for a moment, before he let out a nervous laugh. "Oh.. ha.. apologies. I shouldn't be telling all of that to a young man such as yourself. It's not really your responsibility anyway."

"Mm.. it is alright, sir." Y/N barely mustered a smile in response. "Emotions tend to get the best of people sometimes. It's not like you could help it."

After a few moments, Y/N then turned back to the collection of the belongings he was searching, before letting out a small hum. "Hmm.. it would appear I cannot find it in here." He then slowly turned his head toward Mr. Swanson, "..I may have to search your daughters chambers after all, sir."

"Oh dear.." Mr. Swanson uttered. "Are you certain? I wouldn't want to wake her."

"Yes, I'm certain. Do not fret." Y/N calmly spoke as he stood upward. "I won't wake her. I'll be as quiet as I can."

Mr. Swanson hesitated. "Well.. if you insist."

————

Mary slept upon the fluffy cushion of her bed that held a curtain above it, covering her slumbering figure as she laid beneath the row of light pink blankets thrown neatly onto her bed. The room was dark. Shades of pink were barely visibly in the shadows of the room, and voids of darkness coveted certain corners of the room.

As a few moments passed, and as Mary slept—light began to seep into the room as her chamber-door then slowly creaked open. When the door finally creaked open enough—a head peeked inside, the eyes of the face calm and half-lidded, and a neutral frown upon the lips of whoevers face it was.

Silent, and swift, the person slowly creeped in—and as the light from the hallway crept onto the back of the person figures head, it became more obvious that it was Y/N. He barely took a step inside, and glanced around silently with furrowed brows.

His eyes practically scanned the room as he glanced around, seemingly analyzing certain corners of the room. His eyes lingered upon the bed where Mary slept, and then to her bedside table. Then to the floor, the closet, and her gigantic vanity at the front of the room.

As he stared, Y/N then finally turned, and began to make his way toward the closet. His feet stepped, and stepped foward, until he finally stood at the front of it. His stare then lingered down at the doorknob, and his hand quietly dove foward, twisting the doorknob and then barely opening the door of the closet.

Luckily, the door hadn't let out that loud of a creak, and as he opened the door—his eyes finally scanned the dark interiors of the closet with a neutral frown on his face. He heard shuffling from behind him. Most likely from Mary. But other than that, he hadn't heard her make a single sound.

There were several things inside once he finally opened it. Y/N arched a brow in mild curiosity. There were dresses hanging, mostly pink or pastel colors. On the ground of the closet, there were other things—such as gloves or high heeled shoes. And laying upon two different shelves in the closet appeared to be accessories. Such as different bows, and.. necklaces.

On one of the shelves, there was a white necklace with beads. For a moment, his eyes lingered on it. Before he then reached silently foward to the direction of the necklace, and slipped it into his hand. He then lowered his hand, and quietly put it in the pocket of his pants. Before then letting his other hand grip the doorknob once more, and he quickly shut the closet.

He then turned around, standing still. His eyes scanned the floor again. There was only a white fur rug on the ground—though otherwise, the floor was completely empty of any other objects. Though ahead of him, there appeared to be some kind of white shape.. a white shape with a pink line around its neck.

A cat, sleeping on the floor.

Y/N barely arched a brow, before slowly taking a few steps foward, his eyes not leaving the cat. And then, he slowly turned again—and before he knew it, he was standing before the vanity.

On the vanitys table, there were different items of makeup and accessories Mary must have used often. There was a row of bows and clips for her hair, a row of different colored lipsticks (mostly pink or red), and so on. His eyes lingered upon the items, before then lingering over to the shelf that was built into the vanity.

He then lowered his hand—bending down only a little, before quietly opening the shelf. It didn't make that loud of a sound. Only a small rummaging. There were different objects inside. Such as letters Mary must have either written or received, quills, papers.. though, something then caught his eye. A small green paper. No—several sets of green paper in fact.

Money.

Y/N arched a brow. He then reached his hand foward, and slipped the set of money into his grip. He then held it in his palm, and carefully flipped through the set. And as his stare lingered onto it.. he froze stiffly. His frown remained on his lips, though now a bit more obvious.

It was exactly thirty dollars. The same sum her father had described.

Y/N blinked as he looked upon it. For a moment, he just stared, turning back toward the bed. Mary still slept. It could have easily been a mistake. After all, she might have just had the same amount of money, though she could have easily given it to her father if she had such an amount. Or it could have easily just been that she had borrowed it and he had forgotten.

But for such possibilities, Y/N cared not. After all, she was already such a bitter person. It wouldn't really be a surprise if she had done something like.. that.

He then glanced to the door that was still open, and then back to the cat, and then to the bed.

Slowly shutting the shelf, he slipped the money into his other pocket, and then the necklace into his hand. He then walked toward the door as silently as he could. As he made his way to the opening of the door, Y/N turned his head for a moment, still frowning. Mary slept peacefully. She was such a bitter woman, yet could look honestly so peaceful and.. not bitter.

Y/N's eyes stared blankly, before he then furrowed his brows again.

Quietly, he uttered in a low voice, "..sweet dreams, Ms. Swanson."

He then went through the opening of the door, and shut it as silently as he could.