Hamilton Oneshots

Lams: I loved you first

A/N: This is set before Alex and Eliza's wedding. WARNING: angst and alcohol. Enjoy! Or suffer I guess...
-Angie

"Hey, John. I, uh, need to talk to you." Alexander walks across the nearly empty bar towards me. He approaches me like I am a bomb that will explode under the slightest touch. I turn back towards the bar so my back's facing him and stare at my ever emptying drink as if it holds the answers to my problems. I tense up as his footsteps come closer and let the angry thoughts swarm around me, building up around me like a dam.

"Come on. Our room, please," he says, letting a little desperation leak into his words. Oh, so he does have emotions. I snatch the cup off the table in a sudden burst of movement and let it fall down my throat with the familiar sweet burn of alcohol. I snap up out of my chair and speed walk into 'our room', letting anger seep into the floor with each step. Ever since we'd started doing.... whatever we've been doing this has been our room.

"Well, are you coming?" I growl from the doorway. A look of vulnerability passes over his face but is quickly washed away with indifference. He follows after me into the bedroom and I close the door behind him. I cross my arms over my chest as I lean against the door.

"I'm guessing Laf or Herc spilled 'bout the wedding," he states plainly as he looks over my body language.

"Don't push this on them," I hiss, allowing some fury to slip into my words but I quickly compose myself. He doesn't deserve my anger.

"I'm not, just stating the obvious," he explains.

"Care to tell me what they spilled," I snarl, knowing exactly what they had told me.

"John, come on," he says as if I am some child.

"Do it," I demand.

He sighs, "Whatever we had if we even had anything-"

I stop him there. "So, hooking up for six months is nothing?" I make my way over to the bed and sit down at the edge of it. He still stays by the doorway but shifts so he's still looking at me.

"John-" he starts.

"Don't 'John' me," I interrupt again.

"Can't we do this peacefully?" he asks, his voice on the edge of tipping into fury.

"Maybe," I pretend to consider it. "If you hadn't lead me on."

"You know this wasn't going anywhere," he finally snaps at me. "You and I both knew that this wouldn't last. It was only a matter of time before Martha started asking questions or I found a girl who loved me. Don't lie."

"I loved you first," I whimper like the small child I am acting like.

"What?" he retorts.

"I LOVED YOU FIRST!" I snap, standing up from the bed and looking him in the eyes for the first time tonight. The same eyes that had once gazed upon me with desire now stare at me like I'm a nuisance in his path to glory.

"Now, she loves me." His eyes look anywhere but mine. I search his face for some kind of sign this is a joke. I knew it was gonna end this way. Why did I ever get my hopes up?

"But do you love her?" I ask, helplessly. I'm grabbing at strings that had disappeared a long time ago.

"I love Eliza," he replies simply. And no matter how hard I didn't want it to be true, it was. I'd seen the letters between them. The letters filled with his scrawling delicate handwriting and lovely flirts that would never be given to me. I've imagined her face as she reads it. A sweet smile and light blush. No matter how hard I try to hate her, I can't. It isn't her faults after all. But how I wish I was in her place.

"Did you ever love me?" I hiss, looking up at him from my place on the bed. "Or was I just some toy for you to play with until you got bored? Just a bit of fun until you found something more permanent?"

He doesn't answer for a tension-filled second. "Maybe. I don't know, John! I just," He rubs a hand through his hair then turns his gaze back to me. "I don't know. But what do you want me to say? 'I'm sorry I played you.'"

I glare at him. Does he have any emotions? I stay silent for a long time, staring at the floor. "Whatever we had before, it's just over, alright?"

"Okay," I say in the calmest voice I can manage. I begin to walk out the door. If he wants to play at the 'I don't feel emotions game' I can join in too.

As I am about to open the door, he abruptly says, "John, wait."

I take one look at him and lose all control. Desire takes me over and I slam my lips against his. I press all the anger of tonight into the kiss. It feels nothing like the hopeful and worry-free kisses we shared only nights before. This one is packed with the desperation and the knowledge that this will be our last.

Reality hits me like a bullet and I snap away from him. "No," I say. "You're not allowed to make me feel like that anymore. You have her now. Can't you be satisfied with that?"

He tilts his head at the question as if recalling a past conversation. "No," he answers before crashing his lips into mine. I let him but don't kiss back. It takes all the self-control in me not to but I manage. Eventually, he realizes what I'm doing and steps back from the kiss.

"How's it feel?" I ask cynically. "I'm leaving now. Don't talk to me again."

"Can't we be friends?" he asks desperately.

I laugh bitterly. "Friends? Sure! After you broke my heart, I just want to spend every waking hour with you!"

"Please, at least come to the wedding," he requests. "Watch Herc and Laf get drunk with me. Heck, get drunk with them with me. Be my best man. Just one night."

One night of pretending nothing's between us. One night of absolute torture. Just one night. "Fine," I agree begrudgingly. "But don't you go thinking this fixes anything between us."

"I have to go. Eliza needs me to pick out flowers for the wedding or something," he says. I try not to let it show how much that stings and put a smile on my face.

"Have fun," I tell him as he shoots me a smile and walks out the door. We've already begun pretending that everything's fine.

As soon as I hear the bell ring signaling he's out of the bar, I slump down into a bar stool. No one's here now, not even the bartender. But by now he knows who I am and barely cares how long I stay as long as I pay for anything I drink. I take a whole bottle and put the money in the cash register for him. Finally, I let the smile fall off my face and the tears I had been holding back that whole conversation break free and slip down my cheeks.

I wipe at them furiously. Why do I let him do this to me? I uncork the bottle and chug half the bottle down. More tears fall down and I give up keeping up with them anymore. By this time, I'm hiccuping it's so bad. He pretended the whole time that we could work out and so I did too. But look where that got me.

I down some more of the bottle and cherish in the sweet burn at the back of my throat. The slow numbing of my senses and the mixing of my emotions until you can't tell happiness from sad anymore. When I finish off that bottle I throw it across the room and it lands with a loud crash. I grab another bottle. I'm gonna drink till I forget my own name. Till I forget my problems. Till I forget him.