Alexander was sitting in his office with papers scattered everywhere. The only person who truly understood the organized chaos of his office was Alex himself. He dipped his pen into the once more and continued his letter to Angelica. It always made him so happy to write to Angelica, she was smart and witty and funny and so loving. It was great to have someone who understood at least some of what he was going through. And though he never admitted it to her, she made him so happy he would almost forget about his death.
Alex never actually said his name unless he absolutely needed to. It was too hard to hear the words John Laurens when he knew he'd never see him again. John Laurens gave him so many happy memories. It almost out numbered all the terrors and bad memories from the war. Almost. But then, just as the two were settling down and making plans to run away together. Bam. One stupid gun fight. He was... gone.
Alexander absentmindedly looked to the tax record folder that hid the beloved letters from his John. He shuddered and a tear sneaks down his cheek. He shakes it away and turned back to his letter to Angelica.
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in—
"Alexander! Dinner!" Eliza called from downstairs
Alexander sighed, it's the third time his wife has called him down, he knows that four times breaks her limit. And he'd rather have his wife not angry with him while he copes with his "friend"s passing.
"Coming!" Alexander called and he set his pen back in its stand and got up, carefully putting a letter from Washington over his flirtatious letter to Angelica.
Alexander walked down stairs to see his oldest son, Philip, about the age of… eight I think? He wasn't quite sure. The little boy was practically jumping up and down as his father appeared in the doorway. His untamed curly hair was bouncing along with him as well as the floppy paper he help in his hand.
"Oh good, you're here. I should hope you wouldn't miss your son's ninth birthday for kindness sake!" Eliza said as she situates Alexander.
"Daddy daddy! Look look!" Alexander looked to his son and then to his wife for a clue on what was going on. His wife began to... beat box? Alexander knew he rhymed and rapped sometimes but had no idea that Eliza could beat box. His thoughts quickly turned back to Philip as the child began to rap.
"My name is Philip
I am a poet
I wrote this poem just to show it
And I just turned nine
You can write rhymes but you can't write mine!" Philip beamed up at his father.
"What?!" Alexander said smiling
"I practice french and play piano with my mother"
"Uh huh," Alexander said encouragingly
"I have a sister but I want a little brother." Philip continued with an adorable look of seriousness that his request needed to be fulfilled. Alexander almost started to blush. He turned to Eliza and his wife simply smiled with rosy cheeks, just like the first time he met her.
"Ok," he said winking to Eliza as Philip continued.
After Philip had finished his performance the family dat down for dinner and though Philip did bot want to eat his food and insisted on having his cake before he ate his potatoes, in general the meal was delightful.