Counterpoint

Chapter 10

Jefferson

   How can he still be sleeping so soundly? It has been hours since I had covered him up on the couch, since that moment I had gone grocery shopping, bought a new book, visited an old friend and washed the car. Not necessarily in that order, but that is not important in this moment. Does he intend to sleep for the entire month that he is prohibited from working? Somehow I wouldn't put it past him to try and sleep the entire time period out of protest. He really is a strangely spiteful man when he doesn't get what he wants. It is oddly reminiscent of a child's behavior.

   I shake my head slightly as I lean against my dark marble countertop. My fingers dance over the smooth surface, only daring to touch the small specks of white that float through the darkness of the stone. My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out of my pocket with a bored expression. I recognize the number immediately, Burr and I have been in contact with one another for a few months now. It had been proven to be a necessity for work, especially when Aaron rarely felt any qualms when it came to dishing out information on Hamilton's own projects and plans. 

   Burr: So how is rooming with Hamilton? You haven't killed him yet, have you?"

   My lips curl into a smile as I begin to type my response with the ease and speed that I have noticed that Washington lacks. He appears to be an old-fashioned sort of man, which appears to apply to his forms of communication as well. 

   One, we are not rooming. That would require him to sleep in the same room as me, he is sleeping in the room down the hall, far away from me and anything that he could use to kill me in my sleep. Two, I have yet to kill Hamilton, he has yet to provoke me into such actions. The day is young however.

   Burr: Lol. So what you're saying is that the two of you are getting along?

   I wouldn't necessarily say that. I type in response, a faint frown pulling at the corner of my lips. Aaron is being awfully curious about how Hamilton and I are fairing as temporary housemates. I can't help but feel slightly wary about his amount of interest.

   Burr: What do you mean?

   It is a strange state of peaceful chaos having him here. We still disagree and argue, but it is nowhere near as vicious as it usually is.

   Burr: That sounds a lot like getting along to me...well, at least for the two of you. I chuckle quietly at his words as I set a pan onto the stovetop. The truth behind his words are both true and surprisingly unsettling. I had never considered that the strange peace that is occurring between Hamilton and I could be considered as getting along. Though it might be just as Burr says, this is the closest to getting along that he and I will ever be able to accomplish with one another. I hover my hand over the warming pan and feel the faint heat that is radiating off of it. Not warm enough yet.

   Burr: The real reason that I am texting you isn't about Hamilton, well at least not directly.

   I don't follow.

   Burr: You remember how the apartment complex that Hamilton and I live in had a gas leak? Well, there a fire on the lower floors of the building and they are not allowing anyone back into the building for a couple months so they can assess the damage and test the structural integrity.

   Damn...you guys really chose a shitty apartment complex if all these accidents keep happening one after the other.

   Burr: Maybe, for me it was just a temporary place since I am building a house. I don't know if the same can be said about Hamilton though. I pour a bit of olive oil into the warm pan and put some minced garlic into the sizzling oil. So that is what he is getting at. After all of the shit these two have put each other through it would seem that they still kind of care about one another, at least on Aaron's side. I glance over at the couch where Hamilton is still sleeping, his hand dangling off of the side of the couch as he continues to breath deeply. A faint smile plays across my lips at the sight of his relaxed face and the way his slack muscles cause his lips to part without a single word slipping past. 

   What are you trying to say Aaron? I type slowly.

   Burr: What are you going to do about Hamilton staying with you? 

   I hesitate upon answering, placing some chicken breasts into the hot pan as I struggle to think of how to respond. What will I do about him staying here? I suppose I could offer to allow him to continue staying here, so far he hasn't made too much of a nuisance of himself. It wouldn't exactly hurt to have another person in the house as I try to process and let go of what is left of my grief. I drum my fingers against the countertop as I stare at the sleeping man on my couch. What am I going to do with you?

   He can stay here with me if he so chooses.

   Burr: Are you going to be okay with an arrangement like that? I'm not sure that the two of you will be able to handle working together on top of living together.

   Can you stop talking about it like that?

   Burr: Like what?

   Like we're a couple.

   Burr: That wasn't my intention. He replies after what feels like several moments of hesitation. Why do I suddenly feel so defensive about my actions? I don't think that I am beginning to doubt my decisions because that doesn't sound quite right the more I think about it. The chicken sizzles in the pan and I glance over at it, slowly flipping it over in the hot pan. I set my phone far away from me on the counter, close enough for me to reach but far enough to dissuade me from reaching for it unless necessary.

   My hands are shaking slightly as I place them flat against the cool countertop. I need to get a grip. I am just letting Alexander stay here because the thought of him being homeless makes me feel sick to my stomach. The bitter taste of bile biting against the back of my tongue as the thought of Hamilton sleeping in a gas station or curling up underneath his desk at work appears in my mind. The image is so vivid that it is almost difficult to discern from reality. I focus my eyes on the sleeping man.

   He is right here, fast asleep on my couch. He is not struggling to sleep on a bench somewhere, nor is he trying to hide from the office's security guard as he curls up underneath his desk. He is here with me, sleeping on my couch and feeling safe in my home. Feeling safe with me. Am I so starved of human interaction and intimacy that just having Hamilton here is making me feel better, almost like a full human again? It is so strange to have someone living here with me again. To have another life within these walls that I feel almost afraid to lose. I take a deep breath before releasing it. 

   This circumstance is peculiar. I have no control over what happens and strangely I don't think I want to. I have the strangest desire to be surprised and I can't help but feel that if anything is going to truly surprise me in this life it is going to be the man that I have been studying since I have met him. The one that has hated me since first meeting me, if only I was capable of truly hating him in return.