Philip Hamilton X Reader (DISCONTINUED)

Chapter 7

You sat in the carriage, your heart still pounding from the days events. In almost every class the same thing happened, and each time you grew more and more embarrassed of the outcome.

You suddenly remembered the paper your father gave you. Luckily, Philip had fallen asleep in the carriage, so you decided to open the letter that your father has left for you.

You took a deep breath, then unfolded the note.

'Dearest (y/n),
Inside of this envelope you will find a series of questions that I have strategically planned and want you to ask Mr. Hamilton.
Don't blow it. Or else.
Yours truly,
T. Jefferson'

"Son of a-" you quickly cut yourself off before you could let another word slip. You didn't want to allow any curse words to slip out in front of your best friend's family

"(Y/n), is everything alright? You seem bothered by something," Eliza questioned. Bless her heart, she was pure as gold. How you wish your mother had been like her. Lord knows you wouldn't be the same child you are now.

"Oh, it's nothing really. French is just a very challenging language to pick up." you replied, slowly slipping the note into your book bag. "Oh! If you'd like Alexander and I can teach it to you! I'd hate to see such a brilliant young lady such as yourself struggle." Eliza replied, smiling a pure smile.

Alexander followed suit, nodding his head. "Although it would take time away from my work I'm sure we can figure something out." Alexander added, scribbling down a couple hundred more words on a piece of parchment.

You smiled, "that would be lovely. Thank you so much,"

Guilt. Now you felt guilty for what your father had assigned for you to do. You shouldn't have ever made that suggestion, but the past is in the past. You once again took out the piece of parchment, looking over it with stern eyes.

What do you do in your freetime?

How long on average does it take to write one of your essays?

What is your thought process while writing the aforementioned essays?

Have you ever killed someone in a duel?

These were but a selected few of the many questions your father had jotted down, his writing growing messier each question. Most likely longing in anticipation to hear his political opponent's secrets. However, as you read them over you realized some of these would be far too suspicious of you to ask. But if you didn't provide the desired product to your father, who knows what he would do to you?

"I can't do it!" you sighed, throwing up your arms up in defeat. The paper landing on the floor. "What's this?" Eliza questioned, delicately picking the paper off of the carriage floor.

"N-Nothing! Mrs. Hamilton, could you please give that back!?" you frantically questioned, attempting to reach for the note. Eliza giggled, looking up at you with a bright smile.

"Is it a note from a secret admirer? Or perhaps it's from Philip." she laughed, unfolding the note. You quickly snatched it, hugging it close to your chest.

"Mrs. Hamilton, you're like a mother to me. I'd rather you not read this." you told her, shoving the note in the bottom of your book bag.

Eliza looked perplexed, but shrugged her shoulders and continued looking out of the window.

You sighed in relief, looking up at the roof of the carriage, your heart pounding uncontrollably in your chest.

[×]

You arrived home, your father at the door with a devious smile. "Ah, well if it isn't the Hamiltons! Would you like to stay awhile? I'm sure the children would love to spend some time together!" your father suggested, his ecstatic mood obvious all over his features.

"That would be lovely, but I'm afraid we must decline. We made plans to teach Philip piano after he finished with class. Thank you for the offer. Hopefully next time we can all get together and enjoy each other's company." Eliza replied, giving a quick curtsy before leaving​ down the steps.

As soon as they were out of sight your father quickly shut the door, turning on his heel to look over at you. His smile growing brighter by the second

"How was it? Did everything go as planned? Did you instantly become the most popular girl at your school?" Jefferson asked, leaning on his walking stick, which he still didn't need.

"Well, not exactly, father. I got extremely  nervous during class, and afterwards I wasn't able to ask Mr. Hamilton the questions like I was suppose to... There was just so much to ask, I didn't know where to start..." you confessed, looking down at the marble floor that glistened in the light.

"You. What?" you father questioned, straightening his posture.

You kept your gaze averted, scared to look up at his furious face.

"That's fine dear, our next cabinet bat- meeting isn't for another week or so. Take your time, just not too much time." your father said, patting your head.

You smiled, hugging your father. "Thank you for understanding. After I got made fun of by George Eacker my confidence has been pretty low." you confessed, hugging him tighter.

"I'm sorry, what? Someone made fun of my daughter? Eacker will pay for this behavior! Glinda, fetch me a musket! I may not have fought in the war, but I can sill cause a few casualties after it!" your father boomed, ordering people around like a general.

"Father, you remind me of Lafayette. Mr. Hamilton talks of him quite often, and there's something about the both of you that makes me wonder..."

"Not now dear. We can compare people later. Right now I have to put an end to Eacker."

You sighed, making your way to your room. You threw your book bag on your coffee table and flopped onto your fluffy bed.

You heard a gunshot, which made you jump up in surprise. "Father please! I can handle it!"

"My arse you can handle it!"