Chapter Two

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Jefferson's POV

        The words echoed in his ears as he sat down. "Boyfriend." That was new, specifically because it was tied to the young woman lying prone on the beach-white bed.

        The nurse - he didn't pay attention to his name - had already left, telling him that it was just an extremely harmful flu and that she could easily be treated with antibiotics, sleep, and moral support.

        Even when the man said it, Jefferson was internally laughing; the first two he could provide, the third, he was sure, would be a bit more challenging. It was Alexandra Hamilton. That was all he needed to say.

        He - Nurseman - had said that they could after another hour, but he recommended that once they got home, Alex rested. It was all he could do to not flinch every time he said 'their'. Like they shared a room.

        Or shared anything, in general.

        Because that would never happen. A fact in which he was grateful for. Yeah...That was the total truth, too.

        Shaking his head as if to get rid of some unwanted thoughts, Jefferson focused on her. He didn't get a good look when she had first come to him due to the need of a hospital.

        Now, with the chance, he couldn't not notice how terrible she honestly did look. And, no, it wasn't the I'm-your-arch nemesis-and-I'm-going-to-insult-you-in-every-possible-way type of terrible. It was the pale skin, ingrained frown, and gathering sweat on her brow. It was the skinniness of Hamilton that was impossible to ignore in the gown that they gave her to wear. It was the way Jefferson felt worry pool in the pit of his stomach.

        It was all those things and more. He wasn't supposed to be stressed about her. Thomas wasn't kidding when he called her his 'arch nemesis'; it had been like that since ever. Actually, the single time that wasn't true was the first few times they met and had never had a real conversation with each other. Alex was trailing behind George Washington on his first day back from France, and cut the man off before he could say 'hello'. Thomas had thought it was a bit rude, but he couldn't deny she was a very intriguing human; brutally honest in a world that needed more people like her. And she was hot.

        That was always a plus.

        His best friend and wing-man, James Madison, had told him about her later. How they used to be partners on a lot of projects, because most of their classes were together and they were the two people in said classes that could easily keep up with the other.

        Then there was huge argument between the two of them about a topic that, to quote Madison, "They both agreed not to tell anyone else about". It infuriated Jefferson that he wouldn't tell him, but Thomas eventually left it alone.

        (Occasionally, Madison and Hamilton could be seen having very tentative conversation - by Alexandra's standards, at least - in the hallways before classes. Jefferson, although he would fervently repudiate any hinting in this thought process, was jealous; Madison, for however painfully shy he was, could still interact with other people. Thomas could exclusively talk well on the podium and cross fires, and nothing outside that realm; luckily enough, Hamilton and his conversations fell under cross-fire. Social interaction had never been his forte unless he was desperate for it, and forced himself to act to the best of his ability.

        There were usually panic attacks at the end of his performances.)

        A soft gasp brought his attention back to reality. Jumping to his feet to make it look like he hadn't been concerningly leaning over the side of her bed, Thomas clasped his hands behind him and stood at her left hand. Alex groaned louder, and he couldn't quite make out the word he was beginning to hear.

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