CHAPTER XVIII
The following morning Alex woke up in an empty bed. It was completely dark and he tried to get up on the wrong side, slamming into the folding screen and swearing. He opened the curtains, letting the sun shine in and blinking a couple of times – it was particularly cold that morning, he noticed – but then he looked down and closed the curtains at once.
"Shit," he started searching around the bed for his clothes, then suddenly remembered that he'd throw them all around the room, and so he peeked from the bed curtains to be sure that all the doors were closed and got off the bed, entering the chilly air, to retrieve them and dress.
After stealing Thomas's hairbrush to comb his hair into a ponytail, he eventually went to seek Thomas, checking in the study first and then heading to the main hall. He was about to open the door of his own room to fetch something thicker to wear, when he smelled an amazing perfume coming from the dining room and immediately changed his route, peeping from the door. Thomas was sitting at the table, distractedly drinking a cup of tea and reading some letters, his reading glasses on and a frown wrinkling his beautiful face.
"Morning," Alex joined him at the table, looking voraciously at all the dished scattered on it – there were tea, coffee, ham, eggs, butter, muffins and fresh bread.
"Good morning love," Thomas put the papers aside and smiled at him, "did you sleep well?"
"I slept too much I think, what time is it?"
"It's about nine"
"When did you get up?"
"I always raise with the sun," he winked, "even if today it's been very difficult to leave the bed"
"What a softie," he mocked, "is there any ice-cream for breakfast?"
"No, and you'd better hurry cause we've to go buy some plants to decorate the house"
Alexander quickly gulped his black coffee and stuffed a whole muffin in his mouth right in front of Jefferson's shocked eyes – the latter murmured something about savages and resumed his letters in an irritated fashion.
"No, you can't put it there like that!"
Thomas was standing in the backyard of Monticello, in front of the greenhouse's entrance, with his long arms crossed on his chest and a concerned stare on his face. Alexander had just climbed the nearest window and was now stretching towards the door frame to put some mistletoe above the entrance.
"Shut up and help me," Alexander hit Thomas's head with the mistletoe, leaving some leaves and berries on his hair, "you can tie it there, you giant"
"It's you who're short as a gnome, ouch –
"It seems like I'm tall enough to punch you in the guts though"
"You are a barbarian," Thomas laughed, "I shouldn't let you stay in the house, I'll have someone prepare a bed in the stable for you"
"And again – shut up and help me tie this mistletoe with the holly up there"
"Are you making a kissing bush?" Thomas gasped dramatically, "oh my – Alexander Hamilton, are you seeking for more excuses to kiss me?"
"As if! You'd never kiss me outside you room anyway," Alexander tried to make it sound like a joke, but his voice came out infinitely sad.
Thomas, who was having his own bit of troubles with the twine, stopped at once and looked down at him with an unreadable face, standing like there for a minute.
"Ok, come here, I'll kiss you right now, right here"
"What if someone walks by?"
"Do I seem to fuckin' care?"
In fact, Thomas was bluffing – the sole thought of being discovered by anyone freaked him out, but he didn't want to see Alexander like that.
"Anyway, we should hung the kissing bush first," Alexander climbed on the wall again to reach the holly, but the windowsill was frosty and he didn't place his right foot very well and –
"Shit," he shrieked while Thomas's arms grabbed him and they both fell on the snowy ground, the mistletoe landing everywhere around them.
"If you were so eager to throw yourself in my arms, you should've said it," Thomas laughed, rolling a bit to find himself of top and looking down at Alexander – his hair was covered in snow and he was so beautiful with his cheeks blushing for the cold and his blue eyes matching the cool colours of the winter.
They kissed like that, on the snow, not caring about the cold and their wet clothes, nor about the mistletoe and the ivy that the wind was scattering all around, nor even about the danger of being seen by someone. They kissed with all the passion and the love they wanted to show to the world but they had to hide every day. They kissed and everything seemed still for a moment.
"Thomas!" a shocked voice came from behind them, "What is the meaning of this?"
Thomas's head jerked back abruptly, but he didn't need to look to know whose voice was that.
"James, wait –
"Fuck," Alexander hissed, while Thomas got up and followed Madison, who was already striding away from them.
He remained there, the fear paralysing him on the ground, and listened to Thomas and Madison's voices shouting right behind the corner of the house, without distinguishing their words. Then, they went silent and Alexander heard the clopping of a horse that rushed away. He eventually gathered the strength to get up and entered the house again, searching for Thomas, but he was nowhere to be found. He went upstairs, peeking in the old nursery room and one of the small bedrooms of the second floor, and finally checking the cuddy – maybe he'd only gone grabbing some dry clothes. Thomas was there, standing in front of a line of dresses and coats, turning his back to the entrance; his hands were trembling violently, and he seemed to be searching something in a feverish way.
"Thomas," Alexander called softly.
Jefferson turned with a jump, looking at him with tearful eyes, and Alex gasped, immediately walking next to him.
"I came here to change my clothes, but I can't choose – I can't choose what to wear"
"Thomas calm down, it's just clothes, no need to cry for it"
"I don't know what to do," he sobbed, crouching down with his hands in his hair, "I – I can't breathe"
Alexander felt a pang right in his heart at that sight, he'd never seen Thomas like that, he was always so confident and had everything under control. He felt tears tickling the corner of his eyes but pushed them back at once – he couldn't cry, he had to be strong for Thomas as he'd always been there for him.
"Shh, look at me," Alexander gently took Thomas's face in his hands, kissing his forehead, "listen to my voice and focus on breathing, take some deep breaths with me, all right?"
He put Thomas's hand on his own chest and breathed deeply and evenly for a while, whispering encouragingly at Thomas and never breaking eye contact with him. The panic in Thomas's eyes slowly faded away and his face relaxed a bit as he started to breathe with him and focused on Alexander's heartbeat under the palm of his hand. For several minutes he'd only been able to repeat "I can't breathe" like a mantra, but then he focused on Alexander's low and reassuring voice and he finally went quiet; the tears dried on his face, and his hand eventually freed his messy hair and interlaced its cold fingers with Alexander's. Yet, he didn't stop trembling – he was freezing. Alexander took one heavy coat from a drawer and wrapped him in it, hugging him tight.
"I'm going to prepare you a hot bath, but you have to wait next to the fire or you'll freeze to death," Alex said quietly, "can you walk?"
Thomas nodded and let Alexander lead him to his room. Hamilton sat him in a chair in front of the fireplace and wrapped him into another blanket, casting worried glances at him, and he finally left to prepare the bathtub. He didn't want to ask slaves to do it, and so he placed four huge pots full of water on different fireplaces around the house, and then he carried them, one by one, upstairs, where the bathtub was, pouring the hot water in there. It was a long and tiring work and he was freezing too, the good thing was that he'd heated up a bit by carrying all the pots up and down the stairs.
He went back to Thomas, who was still numbly looking into the fire, his face emotionless and tired.
"Allez mon cher, je vais prendre soin de toi," Alexander whispered to him, and lead him upstairs.
The hot water shook Thomas out of his state at last, and he made some space for Alexander to join him into the bathtub ("no objections, you're shivering").
"James didn't want to listen to me," he finally confessed to Alex, "he told me that I'm a 'filthy federalist spy' and that I'm betraying our nation as well as our friendship"
"Ouch"
"Yes – he said that Martha would have been heartbroken to see me like that," his voice broke again.
"That's not true, Thomas, and you know it," Alexander kissed him softly, "she loved you and I'm sure that she would prefer to have you happy rather than alone and miserable"
"I know," Thomas sighed, "but how could he say such a horrible thing, he'd known me all my life, he knows I would never betray Martha's memory, nor my beliefs"
"Of course he knows it, he was shocked, that's all"
"I worked harder than ever this autumn to stop your manufacturing plans, and he calls me a spy?!"
"OK, now you're really risking death by drowning"
Thomas chuckled and hugged him, pulling him closer.
"We can love each other and have opposite ideals, can't we?"
"Yes," Alexander rolled his eyes, "but we should explain that to Madison, I don't think it's an obvious thing for everyone"
"What if he exposes us?"
"I've been his friend before being his enemy, and I don't think he's capable of it – that would mean to sentence both of us to death"
"But he feels personally betrayed this time, we've always told everything to each other"
"You Republicans are a bunch of weirdos"
"You federalists shouldn't talk about weirdos since you've got John Adams among you," Thomas playfully pulled a lock of Alexander's silky hair while washing them.
"Ugh gross! I don't want to think about him while I'm in the bathtub"
"I think that if we give James some time to think it through, he'll eventually listen to us," Thomas went on, ignoring him, "I'll write him a letter first thing tomorrow, we should solve this problem as soon as possible and –
"What?"
"I'm sorry love, but we'll have to be more careful outside. Today we made a stupid mistake and we're already very lucky if James doesn't denounce us, but it could have gone worse," he shivered at the thought, "what if my daughter happened to visit and found us like that?"
Alexander sighed deeply and stepped out of the tub to dry himself.
"Alexander, listen to me," Thomas followed him, picking some clean towels, "the world you want to live in doesn't exist, we will never be free to openly love each other"
"I know"
"And then, it's you who have a wife, not me – what do you want to do, leave her and your children and elope with me?"
"No, I –
"And we're political opponents, we can't afford to be friendly with each other, you heard James, he thinks I'm corrupted now"
"I know, Thomas, goddamn it," Alexander burst out, "so what?"
"So you have to be honest with me and tell me whether this is enough for you or not," Thomas looked very serious, "because it is enough for me, Alex. Actually, it's way more than anything I've ever imagined"
"I love you"
"And so do I," Thomas grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to look up at him, "is that enough for you?"
Alexander was speechless for a couple of minutes. He observed the face of the man he loved, memorizing every detail of his countenance and… he suddenly remembered Thomas crying on the floor of his closet, Thomas needing him to breathe while his hands were clinging to him in a silent call for help; he remembered Thomas's desperate eyes the first time they kissed and he'd asked him for time to think; or the time when he'd ridden the whole night to stay with him when he was sick. Once again, he lost himself in Thomas's dark eyes, feeling all the love they expressed him with every single glance. He realized that he could never live without him anymore, no matter the price.
"Yes," he said slowly, "it doesn't mean that I'm completely happy with it, but I'd rather hide my feelings forever, than spend the rest of my life without you"
Alexander stood on his tiptoes to claim his kiss and Thomas tenderly took his face in his hands and pressed his lips on Alexander's.
"You're the most precious thing I've got, Alexander, I don't want to lose you"
"You won't," he sighed, "let's go talk to Madison"
Notes:
"Allez mon cher, je vais prendre soin de toi"= "Come on, sweetheart, I'll take care of you"
