Hey hey! So this is my first story on ! I hope you all like it! It might take a while to update, but I'll post a chapter at least once a month, if not then sooner. I tried to characterize the kids accurately, but there's not much for me to go off of historically. Also, this fic will DEFINITELY not be historically accurate, the four of them never even met in real life. Anyways, without further adieu, let's get started!

Edit: IM SORRY ABOUT THE FORMATTING IT'S BEEN FIXED (I hope)

Philip sat out on the front porch, sighing softly. Everything felt like the world was crashing down around him. His father, Alexander Hamilton, had died in a duel a few weeks ago. He had to tell his mother it would all be okay. He had to explain to his younger siblings why father wasn't going to come home.

"Pardon me..." His thoughts are interrupted by a voice as he looks up to see whom it belongs to. There stood a girl, seemingly about his age. Long brown hair tumbled over her shoulders, wavy and curly, but not frizzy. She had deep green eyes and a face sprinkled with freckles, similar to his own. Her frame is petite and seemingly fragile, and she's strikingly slender.

"Would this be the Hamilton residence?" She asks, her long eyelashes batting as she waits for an answer.

"Yes, how can I help you, miss?" Philip replies politely, though he's unable to hide the slight confusion in his voice. Had it been anyone else, he would have assumed she was a friend of his parents to send her condolences, but this girl was far too young, his age at most.

"I was wondering if I could speak with your mother." She says before seemingly remembering something. "Oh! My apologies… Frances Eleanor Laurens, it's a pleasure to meet you." She curtsied, once again regaining her formal tone.

"Philip Hamilton, the pleasure's all mine." He smiled, giving a gentlemanly bow. "Unfortunately, Mother's away at the moment. However, you're welcome to stay until she returns if you'd like."

She giggled softly, her droning ladylike speech replaced with something a bit more genuine. "Thank you. You're too kind, Mr. Hamilton."

"Please, call me Philip. You needn't be so formal." He laughed, his smile growing wide.

"Alright, Philip. Feel free to call me Frances." She laughed along with, soon regaining her composure.

"Would you like to come in? I'd love to talk to you some more." Philip smiled softly, genuinely interested in this girl, even if it was far from in a romantic way.

"I'd love to."

"Philip held open the door, stepping aside to let her in. "We can go to my room if you'd like. It's a total mess, I apologize."

She laughed again, stepping through the doorway. "Sounds lovely, I don't mind at all. My room back home was just the same…" Her voice trailed off near the end, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

The two made their way down the hallway to Philip's room. It was surprisingly clean, aside from the scattered papers littered everywhere. The walls were covered in drawings, black and white sketches, mostly. A few had the ink a bit smudged or an unintentional splotch out of place, but they still made the girl's eyes light up as they danced around the room. "Did you draw all these..?" She asked, obvious amazement and disbelief in her voice.

"Yeah. I've been told I draw too much, like my father did with his writing." He smiled a bit, beginning to pick up a few of the papers and place them in neat stacks on his desk, each one showing a different colorless drawing. "I guess it runs in the family."

"They're incredible!" She gave him a wide smile, the reminisence of her previously quiet and reserved self vaporizing into thin air. Philip smiled at this, feeling like he was finally really meeting her. She picked up a paper, examining it and handing it to him. The picture was of a lake, the sunset fading over a forest in the distance.

"Oh, I drew this one when we were on a vacation to my Grandfather's house upstate. There's this beautiful lake up there, I wish I had a chance to go back sometime." Philip explained, taking the picture and smiling softly at the memories.

"It's gorgeous. I'd love to see it in person." She smiled, calming a bit from the initial excitement.

"Believe me, the picture doesn't do it justice." Philip heard the door open, then blurting. "Maybe we could go together someday…"

Philip heard the front door open, followed shortly after by a "Philip, I'm back!" from his mother.

"Sound like mother's home. Come on, I'll introduce you." He lead her out of the room and down the hall without a word, greeting his mother at the door. "Welcome home, ma!" He smiled, hugging her. Mom seemed a bit confused at the girl standing behind him, prompting Philip to introduce her. "This is Frances Eleanor Laurens, she wanted to talk to you. We've just been in my room getting to know each other.

She seemed to understand, tensing a bit at the last name. "Laurens…?" She mumbled, not really meaning to say it outloud. She hadn't heard or said that name in so long, it felt almost alien to her.

"Yes, daughter of John Laurens…" The younger girl replied, as if she'd repeated the explanation far too many times for her liking.

"Right, my apologies. Elizabeth Schuyler-Hamilton, as I'm sure you already know." Eliza replied, a slight shakiness in her voice. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Mr. Laurens was an old friend."

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well. I'm… sorry about your husband. I've admired his work as many others have. My condolences." She murmured faintly. "Though, that's not why I'm here. I came to ask you about my father…" She let out a shaky sigh. "I never got to meet him before he died… I need answers…"

"I understand. Come, we can talk in privacy." Eliza replied, moving to Alexander's old study. She'd left everything just the way it was before he passed. Philip watched as Frances gave one last glance back at him, then disappeared into the other room.

Now Philip was left alone with his thoughts once again. "Smitten, are we?" His younger sister Angelica commented, a smirk on her face.

"Oh, shut up!" He nudged her lightly, laughing. "You don't have to say that about every girl I meet, Angie."

"I know, I know." She laughed in return. "But really, did you see her face? She was red as a tomato around you. She liiiiiiiikes you, Pip."

"Ha, right. I doubt it, but if you say so." He rolled his eyes, making his way down the hall yet again. "If you need me, I'll be in my room."

"Drawing?"

"Obviously."