Counterpoint

Chapter 11

Alexander

   My eyes slowly open and I find myself staring at the wall opposite of the couch that I am laying on. My body is swaddled in the gentle warmth of the soft blanket that someone had draped over me. Some mystery, the only other person that lives in this house and the only obvious answer is that Jefferson covered me. I am uncertain as to why he would do that, but then again I am uncertain as to why he does many of the things that he does. Why take in a man that you openly despise and why agree to practically be my parole officer? I feel like I will never be able to understand his motivations for what he has done for me.

   "So you're finally awake?" that dreaded southern accent drawls from the kitchen table. I slowly sit up and discreetly wipe at my face in an attempt to wipe away whatever saliva might have dried on my face. "You only slept the entire day away." 

   "Shut up Jefferson." I mumble. 

   "I thought that you said you weren't tired." He chuckles as he takes another bite of his chicken from his bowl. "It seems that you were mistaken." His eyes follow me as I walk into the kitchen. There is a bowl waiting for me filled with rice and chicken, from the way that it is still steaming it is obvious that it hasn't been sitting there long.

   "Did you make this?" I ask softly, my fingers ghosting around the sides of the bowl. 

   "I did." He replies with a raised eyebrow. "Are you surprised?" 

   "A little." I confess.

   "And why is that?" He asks as he shifts in his seat, his legs crossing and one of his arms resting on the back of his chair as he turns to look at me directly. Why do I find it so uncomfortable to have his uninterrupted attention on me now? When we're in the office I don't blink an eye when we stare each other down, but somehow this eye contact is different. It almost feels as if there is an electric current that is flowing from his eyes into my body, I am uncertain as to how I should respond to such a feeling. If I should even respond to it at all.

   "I just always assumed that you had people to cook for you, that's all." I mumble as I pick up the bowl, silently searching for a fork. 

   "You just assumed that I was unable to do anything for myself?" He asks with a cheeky smile. "Oh ye of little faith." I can't help the small smile that forms on my lips at his words. He sounds almost human when he talks like that. Jefferson watches me with a smile as I scour the countertop over and over again with my eyes in search of a fork that had been set out for me, I see nothing. "Hamilton." I slowly turn to look at him and see him to be holding a silver fork in his hand with a smile filled with silent mirth. "I believe you may be looking for this." 

   My chest tightens at the sight of the orange gold light of the setting sun falling from the sky and filtering through the window and illuminating his form. He seems almost otherworldly as the light seems to bleed into his essence and then radiate from his skin with even more vibrance. He looks at me curiously, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he stares at me, his smile remaining fixed in place. 

   "This is what you are looking for, right?" 

   "Yes." I whisper as I walk over to him. He extends the fork out to me but pulls it back when I reach out for it. I frown in confusion as he smiles at me, his eyes seeming to glow with amusement as he looks up at me.

   "Now how about a kiss?" He murmurs with a smile.

   "I beg your pardon?"  I ask with a voice that is far harsher than I had meant. Jefferson simply laughs in response, his eyes scrunching shut with the intensity of his laughter.

   "Sorry, that's something my mom always said to me whenever she had something I wanted." He laughs, handing me the fork. "I couldn't resist the temptation." I say nothing as I take the silverware from his pliant hand and take a seat far from him at the table. He chuckles as he watches me sit on the very far side of the table, thankfully he can't see or know just how badly my face feels like it is burning underneath my skin. "Do you think you could have possibly sat any further away?"

   "I could have gone to sit at the end of the driveway." I mutter with a small smile, shoveling a bite of chicken and rice into my mouth. Jefferson laughs in response at my words and the small goofy smile that has appeared on my face as the savory taste of the chicken mingles with the sweet of the rice.

   "That's true, you could have, but then it would be too far away for you to get more of that chicken you have fallen in love with." He teases.

   "I haven't fallen in love with anything!" Jefferson simply taps his lips with a smirk. The message is received as he begins to laugh at my look of indignation. "It's good alright, but not love at first bite worthy!"

   "Whatever you say Hamilton." He chuckles as he mercifully drops his gaze, returning his attention to his food and the novel that he is reading. Arrogant bastard. The words are empty in my mind and I can't help but keep discreetly peeking at him through my lashes every now and again. I don't know what he did, but he has accidentally woken something up that has been asleep since John had disappeared. I don't know how Jefferson of all people was able to wake up the affections that I had kept buried inside of me but here they are raging inside of me. 

   It's Jefferson, I remind myself. It had once been Laurens just as it had once been Schuyler, my mind shoots back in rebuttal. My grip tightens slightly on my fork as I remain silent, sorting through all of the buried emotions that in this moment I wish had remained buried. Why do these emotions always find the most inconvenient times to resurface? I run a hand through my hair. It's because their emotions, there is no reasoning behind them they just happen. Jefferson glances up at me briefly before returning his eyes to his book. That brief glance has set my skin prickling under the heat of invisible flames.

   Damn it all to Hell.