Philip

I closed the door behind me. The house was dark and quiet, which allowed me to assume everybody had retired to their rooms. I made my way to mine, hoping to be able to write at least a couple of verses down. Who knew if I would.

As I walked down the hallway, I noticed a small amount of candlelight coming from one of the rooms I was to approach. Of course, it was my father's home office. It was not strange or unusual at all for him to still be there that late, while everyone else slept.

He almost didn't notice me when I passed by his entryway. He was immersed in the thousands of papers that surrounded him, writing without a pause. His hand always had trouble keeping up with his mind.

"Hello, Pops," I murmured from the door, cautious not to startle him.

"Oh, hi, Philip. You're back," he said as he quickly looked up to see me. "How was it?"

"I found it quite agreeable."

I decided to omit the couple of sharp glances I received during the evening. I knew that's why he was asking me, but I did not want to raise the subject. Honestly, already at that point, I just wanted to leave it behind and move on.

There was a short silence. I was about to wish him good night and leave, when he said, without lifting his eyes from the paper he was working on:

"Son, I have been meaning to ask you something for a while."

That surprised me. I gave a couple of steps inside the room.

"Go ahead," I said, skeptically.

He looked at me once more, seeming to take in air before he asked:

"Have you had someone on your mind lately?"

I could feel my body go tense. I could also feel every ounce of effort I made to conceal it.

"What do you mean?" I replied.

He lifted his head and kept his eyes on me.

"You know what I mean."

I did. I bought some time with a pause.

"Not that I'm aware of, no," I said casually. "May I ask why you are asking?"

"Well, son, you've seemed… distracted lately."

"Well, that could be due to plenty of other causes," I retorted.

I didn't think it necessary to actually name them, as I was sure he could guess them without trouble.

"That's true," he nodded. "And actually, for the better, because the first piece of advice I was going to offer you was not to fall in love so young."

"Well, I didn't-"

"However, if you had fallen in love, my second advice to you would have been to go for her."

I furrowed my brows. "Pops, when has it ever been as simple as that?"

"It might not be simple, but it's what must be done. It definitely works more than the static alternative ever has."

"Does it?"

"Of course. Listen, son, throughout my life I have known people who would never fight for what they wanted. Until this day, I haven't been able to understand them."

"Well, not everybody has to see the world the same way as you do, Pops. It's not everyone's interest."

"True. I know that for a fact. But I also know that when they change their mindset even in the slightest, that's when they get the results they so greatly desired."

"If you say so. You sound like you know what you're saying. I don't doubt you do."

"I do. All the previous times I have given that piece of advice it has worked in favor of who received it, actually," he sounded smug as he said it.

"I would love to hear about them one day," I said, ready to retire, this time for certain.

"Aaron Burr comes to mind."

I froze, feeling heavy as bricks against the ground.

"I doubt that he owes you any of the achievements he might have reached in the romantic plane."

"None other than his current wife."

"No!" I said, incredulously.

"Admittedly, of course, whether that union was thanks to me or not, depends on who you ask."

"I would not expect anybody to ever admit to such thing," I conceded.

At least, in regards to me, I knew I would never do it, despite the way my father's words were drilling in my mind.