Neko // Jamilton // Hamilton ✔️

twenty-nine; hidden cigarettes + being fine [edited]

alex's pov

I sit on the back porch steps, where I had been merely two days before. My expression at that time was probably hopeless and in need of help. And I had those sweatshirts that I wouldn't let go of until the next day.

And now?

I was fine. I was sitting on the steps, staring at the pile of cigarettes Hercules had thought he hid so well next to the door. I was no longer wearing any sweatshirts, even though it was cold out. You could see my cat ears, but I had no intention of doing anything with them. I hadn't felt the need to really purr lately.

My head fell into my hands and I looked at the ground, training my attention on one spot on the ground.

Even when I was away from Thomas, all my thoughts hovered around him. My attention would float back to nothing and my mind would wander all over his dorm and wish I were still there. Sometimes even I wished I was still there.

He looked the same without me.

Same baggy eyes because he never slept, same annoyed face everywhere he went, same narrowed eyes that darted around as people spoke, same fluffy hair that he only let me touch if I had done something good, the same routine he followed every morning.

He hadn't changed at all.

My tail thumped against the concrete and tried to forget it was there. I wanted to feel like a true human right now. Humans are always sad.

"Alex?" A voice.

I stood up, my tail fell behind my legs. I didn't have to look up to know who it was, "How'd- What- What the fuck?"

"It's easy to find someone when they're in an alley you walk past every day, crying," He replies, reaching his hand out, "What happened to you?" When his hand rested on my cat ears gently, I shoved his arm away and finally took a glance up.

"You don't know." I looked at him blankly.

"I don't know." He confirmed, cocking his head and letting his hand fall back to his side.

"You really don't know?" I asked one more time, my fingers twisting together. I looked at his shoes. Running shoes, but they looked like a cheap ripoff brand from one of the downtown streets in New York City. It had been two days without me and he was still poor as fuck.

I felt his hand on my ears again and I didn't push him away, "I don't know." He said once again.

"How long has it been since you talked to Eliza?" I asked, sitting down. His hand, obviously, couldn't reach that far down. He sat down next to me, but neither of us made any move to touch again.

"Uh..." He thought for a second, "She came to our door once while you were sleeping. She was drunk, high, or acting like a bitch. That was three days ago... Why?"

I shook my head, "No reason."

"Alex," He looked at me, "What happened?"

"Nothing," I reply, suddenly feeling stupid. Why had I believed her? Was I that gullible? I sighed, "Nothing happened, okay? Let's go back to your dorm, come on!" I grabbed his hand and stood up. My tail fit him in the face and... I wanted to meow.

Before anything else could happen though, I felt a strong hand around my neck. Swallowing nervously, I let it reach around and play with my collar, "What happened, Alexander?" The hand grabbed the small circle on it and ran its hands over the name engraved on it.

I swallowed again, "I'm fine." He hadn't asked if I was fine, but I said I was anyway.

The hand trailed down to my waist and hand and I felt its pair coming along too. Soon, he was hugging my waist gently, but firmly, "You aren't fine," He mumbled, "What happened?"

"Nothing!" I exclaimed again, throwing my leg back and kicking his balls.

He stayed still and then said, "Are you trying to kill me?" His strained voice made it obvious he was in pain but was trying not to show it.

"No." I denied, shrugging my shoulders.

"Tell me what happened." He whispered again, voice still strained as he groaned.

"No." I denied again.

"Does it have to do with Eliza?"

I paused, "... Yes."

"Did she say something to you?"

I paused again, "Um, uh, yeah."

Then he started laughing. He genuinely started laughing, the kind of laugh you get when someone tells you the best joke ever, the kind of laugh when you hear the end of an embarrassing story, the kind of laugh that makes others smile, "There is nothing going on between Eliza and me." He said to me, between laughs.

I scowled, "I don't trust you."

"Hey!" He hit me lightly, "Why not?"

I shrugged, "Let's go back to... Let's go back home."

"Home?" He laughed, "I'm switching dorms soon, y'know."

I tore myself away from him, finally, "I don't care, let's go."