a/n: szin did a "hamilton in 7 minutes" animatic on youtube and their version of satisfied within it absolutely wrecked me and also made me decide i should really try to put my longtime headcanon into actual words (in this case, a drabble) so i highly recommend watching that because A) it's awesome and B) it'll show the mood i'm trying to capture here, and then you can tell me if i accomplished that. either way, hope you guys like the heartbreak

(may you) always

Eliza had never been one to grab the spotlight, but Alexander was glad to see her wedding day was an exception. His bride was beautiful, glowing with shining eyes, and all the breath had whooshed right out of him when he'd seen her gliding down the aisle towards him on her father's arm. What had he ever done to be so lucky? To have a kind, warm woman as his wife in the coldest of winters, and to have a father-in-law willing to place a bet on a penniless orphan.

Eliza had said, after their union had gained Philip Schuyler's permission, that the wager had largely been given because of Angelica's assurances she would secure their family's fortune. That, in addition to being the one to introduce them... Alexander wondered if he would ever stop owing her for the joy Eliza had already given him in his life—he had never been so confident that everything would be okay like he was when he was writing or talking with Eliza—especially after Angelica could've taken offence from his flirty nature. He'd thought he'd wooed her, surely; she'd seemed so intrigued, and he had to admit, as a man with eyes, that she was as beautiful as she was intelligent, which was saying something, but clearly she hadn't been as charmed as he had believed.

No matter, though. As much as Angelica may have been his intellectual equal, with a fire behind her eyes, his affections for her weren't returned and he was so grateful and lucky to have Eliza. To fall for two Schuyler sisters could have been so unfortunate, if Eliza hadn't fallen for him. He would've been besotted and rejected and still with hardly a penny nor wife to his name, and in time, Eliza would be enough and he would forget his flirtations with Angelica. The way she'd set him aflame.

And at his wedding, it was true that Alexander hardly spared the oldest Schuyler sister a thought or a glance. He only had eyes and a mind for his new wife, his heart burbling over with love every time their eyes met or he caught sight of her wedding band and wide smile. And despite being Maid of Honour—Eliza had been debating whether to ask Peggy or Angelica, as choosing between sisters was like choosing between two halves of a whole heart; Alexander had been the one to suggest the latter, as she had introduced them and would likely be married soon herself, and unable to be a true Maid of Honour—he'd hardly seen Angelica all night. She seemed to be making herself scarce, while Laurens had stayed drinking with the boys and was a little tipsy, like usual.

Alexander would check on him later, a simmering heat in his heart knowing that Laurens had to understand, wouldn't he? And it didn't seem like Eliza was worried about her sister either, content to dazzle the room for once and be happy and in love, and Alexander banished all other thoughts except to join her in her revelry.

It was only when they had wined and dined for a bit, the meal coming to a close, that it was time for time for the speeches, and Alexander took the chance, before his attentions would have to be directed elsewhere, to steal another kiss from Eliza.

"Alright alright," Laurens broke in, raising a glass and only stumbling slightly. Either that meant he wasn't as drunk as Alexander thought, or far more drunk than he thought, but Lafayette was standing nearby, and Alex knew he'd take care of him. "That's what I'm talking about!" Laurens crowed.

Angelica seemed to appear from nowhere beside him, out from the crowd, dressed in a pretty gown not unlike the one Alexander had met in her, and graciously took the glass of wine Laurens offered her with a far steadier hand. "Now," he continued. "Everyone give it up for the Maid of Honour, Angelica Schuyler!"

Angelica smiled at the polite applause proceeding the announcement, and then raised her glass. Alexander kept one hand in Eliza's as the newlyweds and everyone else mirrored the gesture, while Angelica turned her attention from the rest of the room to the new married couple.

"A toast to the groom," she began, her eyes flitting over to him, and their eyes met despite himself. There was that same heat, intensity, behind hers, but it seemed simmered down. Clearly, she looked at everyone like that. It was just her way, even if her gaze softened when she rested her eyes on her sister, and drew Peggy in with an arm tuck. "To the bride! From your sister, who is always by your side! To your union—"

"To the revolution," the soldiers chimed in, and Angelica raised her glass a little higher. In the brief conversations they'd had since the winter's ball, Alexander knew she was a great proponent of the revolution and didn't mind the addition.

"And the hope that you provide," Angelica proclaimed, and her eyes drifted to him. She was crying, her smile wide, so why did her eyes look so pleading? "May you always be satisfied!"

It hit him like a lightning bolt. Not unlike she had, on the dance floor, lit aglow with candlelight, like a dream you couldn't quite place. He had never been in such a fancy well dressed place before—a perk of being Washington's aide de camp, apparently, and one he'd been keen to enjoy. When he had heard the Schuyler sisters would be there as well (John, the gossip that he was had wheedled it out of Burr) it seemed a good a time as any to try his luck.

And then he'd seen her, intelligent, dazzling—never satisfied, a kindred spirit like him—and found he didn't care who her family was; it had just been a bonus, a very heavy handed bonus that had made him not mind being handed over to Eliza, who was graceful and sweet and intelligent in her own way, but content. But he had thought... he had truly thought he'd been imagining the flirtation on Angelica's side, at the ball, when she seemed to let her sister whisk him away without a second thought, had introduced them, even. She'd been polite, a champion for her sister's happiness, but had barely spoke to him in the week or so leading up to the wedding. Peggy had been far more chatty, going so far as to confide in him. Angelica had been distant, and he had chalked it up to her sadness at her sister leaving home...

But now clearly, that hadn't been the case at all—or at least, only partially.

She loved him. He knew it. Perhaps even loved her too. And it was too late.

(Even if now, she would always be in his thoughts; now, he would never be satisfied.)