Attention (Jamilton)

Part 6: First Names

Jefferson's POV

I can see the smile break out on his face when I utter the yes. I can see his eyes fill with tears. 

"I love you so much." I say to Alexander. 

"I love you too." He says, and for the first time I can tell that he really means it. I don't know what changed, but I guess once you're soulmates, you are soulmates. I'm just so happy to be with the man I love. 

"Do you need a place to stay? Like, I know you have a house, but do you need somewhere real to stay? With a real family and stuff?" I ask. He said something about his home life being trash. Did he? Since we actually spent some time together I know a lot more things about him than he's said. 

He looks up at me. "Jef- Thomas, I would love a place to stay."

He called me by my first name. Not Jeffershit, or Jefferson, just Thomas. A warm feeling spreads throughout my body. 

"Then c'mon!" I say with a grin, "Let's go get you moved in!" 

We spend the next few hours making our way out of the woods, back to Alex's house, explaining to Washington that Alex is staying with me now, and attempting to box up his stuff. I use the word stuff because there really is no limit to the items he owns. Three drawers of makeup, both girls clothes and guys clothes, Broadway posters, a pink, purple, and blue flag that he calls bisexual- which explains the makeup and clothes- and paper. There is so much paper everywhere, and not one bit of it is unoccupied. He really does write non-stop. 

"Most of it is trash." He says as he sees me reading over a page. I don't know the context for it, but the language is beautiful. It's no wonder that he gets A's in debate. 

"Alex, this is some of the best writing I've ever seen." I say in disbelief. He takes it and puts it in the trash anyways. 

"That was the first draft. I've got all the best ones saved in the bottom drawer." He points at a filing cabinet. After several hours, we can finally see the floor of his bedroom. We have all the clean clothes in one box, the dirty clothes in another, the trash is all taken out, the papers Alex wanted to save in another, makeup in two boxes, and the sheets in a final box. We have a spare bed that he's going to use in my house. I look at the clock to find that it's 8:30 at night. It's also a school night.

"How about this," I say, slightly out of breath, "we bring the sheets and clothes and some makeup tonight so that you have a place to sleep, and then tomorrow we get everything else."

"That sounds good." He says, also winded. We grab the boxes mentioned and haul them outside. 

"Storm clouds." I mutter, continuing to move forward. 

"What?" He says, his voice filled with panic. 

"It's looking like it's going to storm tonight. Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine." We continue to move boxes until we get to my house. 

"Here you are, home sweet home." I say. We get inside right as thunder cracks loudly outside. He drops his box and starts to frantically look around. 

"Alex?" I ask, confused. Then I remember that he suffered losing everyone in his family due to a hurricane as a kid. He's having another panic attack. Filled with a somewhat motherly instinct, I run to him and wrap my arms around him. "Hey, hey, hey. It's okay. You'll be okay." I lull him, rocking him back and forth in the hallway until he wakes up crying. He sniffs out a thank you before getting up. We carry his things upstairs to the guest room, now his room, and he climbs into bed. 

I wake up in the middle of the night to a gentle kick in the leg. Alex is snuggled up against me, probably climbed in during the storm. I wrap my arm around him and go back to sleep. I love this boy so much.