Alex was collapsed on the couch. At 12 AM.

It had been another long, trying day at work. Work. God, politics were exhausting. And Jefferson, stupid Jefferson, had attacked him. Again.

It wasn't even like Jefferson was telling him anything new. He knew he was too ambitious. He knew that he was a tomcat, bastard, horrible person…

It still hurt. Every single time. It reminded him that as hard as he was working to be remembered, to be great, to do something lasting, he would never be anything more than the horrible person that he was.

Never.

It was funny, because people always called him egotistical. But the ego was actually something he forced upon himself. After all, if he was always looking to the future, he would never have to remember the past.

Sighing, he closed his laptop and placed it on the coffee table. He wouldn't be getting any work done now, he might as well sleep. He stretched himself out on the couch, ready to face the night.

Well, in all seriousness, he was getting ready to face his nightmares. God, he needed Eliza.

And then he saw her. The answer to his prayers.

She looked like a goddess. She always looked like a goddess. But in this dim lighting, she looked especially so. Even in her nightgown, she managed to be more beautiful than most women.

She walked over to him sat down on the couch. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I might ask you the same thing," he allowed a half-smile to slip onto his face.

"Alex," she said, cradling his face. "What are you doing here at 12 in the morning."

"Work ran late," he shrugged. "I just needed to unwind a little bit."

She eyed the laptop resting on the coffee table. "By working some more?"

Yes. That was always how he escaped from the world. Work so hard that you stop thinking.

"Talk to me," she said, draping an arm over his shoulder.

And this was why he had married her.

Everyone assumed it was because of her money, or her status, and the advantages it would bring him. It wasn't that. Not even in the slightest. From the moment he had met her, he had felt a goodness, a pureness coming off of her that he hadn't encountered in a long while. He needed that. Honestly, there were days where she kept him from going mad, with the stress, or the nightmares, or whatever. Whatever it was, he needed Elizabeth Schuyler.

"Just a long day at work," he said casually.

"It's more than that," she insisted.

"It's really nothing," he shrugged. "Just the usual insults hurled at me, the usual flashbacks to… to Mother, and I knew that if I went to sleep I would have nightmares."

There were very few people who he had ever opened up to. John Laurens had been one of them. He had died. Eliza was the only other.

She nodded silently. She knew he had more to say. And he did have more to say. Once he started talking to her, there was no turning back.

"I… I don't know what to do. Because… all the insults… they are correct." He squeezed Eliza's hand. "I am every bit the horrible person they paint me as. But… they'll never see that I became that person to hide from my past. To hide from… Mother. And Father. And even John."

"Eliza, I don't know how much longer I can hide from my past, keep up this act. How much longer will it be until I do something really stupid? Like sleeping with another woman? It's a possibility, Eliza, it's a possibility."

"They all call me non-stop. Jefferson. Burr. Madison. Even Washington. But I would give anything, anything, to take a break. I can't, Eliza. I don't stop because I can't."

He was in tears now. "I just… I just thought I'd get that off my chest now, before it becomes too much worse."

Eliza said nothing, instead kissing him on the forehead. Her kisses were the best medicine. He loved it.

"Alex, you are not a terrible person." Her words were calm and firm. She held up a hand when she saw him shaking his head. "Listen to me," she said. "The world may see you as something you are not. But I know you. And I love every piece of you, every single layer. You're clever, you're hardworking, and Alex, you are a good person. You have to believe that."

He nodded, collapsing into her. He was skeptical, but the fact that she thought so meant something to him.

"And Alex, it is your decision entirely. But if you ever need help facing your past, I'm here. We can work through it together."

Together.

He sighed with relief, holding her close, letting the tears subside. He had her, and that was all that mattered.

"You know, Eliza, you're the only one. You've always been the only one."

"For what?" she asked.

"Anything and everything," he grinned.

"Well, then," Eliza's mouth twitched. "Alex, you are also the only one. There has never been another for me."

"Would you like to sleep now?" she asked him.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "About that. Why are you awake?"

"Couldn't sleep," she shrugged. "The bed felt empty without you."

He smiled. "You know, if we were in one of those Faerie novels, we would be mates."

"Mate," Eliza repeated. "I like the sound of that. But I suppose I'll have to settle with husband."

"Wife doesn't feel good enough, you know?" he said. "How about goddess, or princess, or bright, shining star…"

"Whatever you want, Alexander Hamilton," she giggled. "Let's get to bed now. We have so much to do tomorrow."

"What?" he asked.

"Oh, come on… Alex, how could you forget your own birthday?" Eliza shook her head.

"Birthday," he repeated. The word meant so little to him. But spending time with Eliza? That meant so much.

"Sounds good," he said. "As long as I'm with you."

"I'll always be here for you," she said, patting his shoulder.

He wanted to assure her that he was there for her too. But God, he was exhausted. He couldn't form a coherent sentence at this point.

"Thank you," he said, sinking into her embrace and forgetting the world.

Only us.

Hi readers! What did you think?

So I promised the amazing AvocadoGoddess some Hamliza fluff two weeks ago, and here I am, finally delivering on my promise. AvocadoGoddess, if you're reading this, I hope you like it!

Also, I was kind of imagining Only Us from Dear Evan Hansen to be the theme song for this one-shot. Hence the title. *sighs* I love Dear Evan Hansen. I could listen to it all day.

If you like it, please review! Just a few short words can really make my day as an author.

That's all, and stay beautiful!