(Story version. Advanced apologies if I ever got something wrong. Enjoy!)
Tap tap tap
Light footsteps were heard in the dark hallway, a candle being the only little light source, George Washington held a few letters tightly in his hand. The hallway was silent, empty rather, as he made his way to the living room. As he neared the fireplace, he placed the candle at the coffee table and sat down, cross-legged, in front of the dim space. The letters were placed neatly beside him.
George felt numb, hollow, broken. After reading that damn pamphlet, he felt nothing but anger and... hell, he felt a bit of regret. He made no eye contact nor talked to anyone the whole day.
After a few numbing minutes sitting there, motionless, he slowly grabbed the lit-up candle and brought it closer to the wood, waiting patiently for the flames to engulf the fireplace.
FWOOSH
George smiled faintly as it became bigger. It's like the emotion he's feeling since the affair happened.
Betrayal
Hatred
George sighed in content, the comfortable feeling of heat wrapping itself in his body. He felt something wet staining his cheeks, his shaking hand reached for it and wiped it off. His vision became blurry in that moment, and his eyebrows furrowed.
He decided to just laugh it off and stare at the fire for a little longer. He grabbed the papers that were nestled beside and clutched it tightly, not for dear life though. He doesn't want to read what's written there. But what haunts him a little is how his heart still flutters when he sees these... it makes him sick.
I saved every letter you wrote me...
Until this day...
From the moment I read them, I knew you were mine. You said you were mine. I thought you were mine...
And he thought he did.
Do you know what John Laurens said when we saw your first letter arrive?
George remembered that day, he was in a camp with his Lieutenant while the other was back home. (don't ask why) He was busy planning out a recruitment when a messenger from Harlem came in. Boy, was he excited to read it, but he didn't show it.
He said, "Be careful with that one, sir. He will do what it takes to survive."
He laughed at that moment when Laurens took a little peek at his letter.
You and your words flooded my senses. Your sentences left me defenseless. You built me palaces out of paragraphs, you built cathedrals.
When they met at the Winter's ball, he couldn't help but laugh at how passionate this man is when he talks. His words all clogged his mind and he couldn't even make an argument about it.
He couldn't help but feel a slight courage to read it all again.
I'm re-reading the letters you wrote me. I'm searching and scanning for answers in every line, for some kind of sign, and when you were mine.
Sadly, he didn't find any.
The world seemed to burn.
