//TW: mentions of depression, death, swearing, suggestive content\\

Alexander

I downed the warm, bitter coffee, reveling in the way it slid down the back of my throat. It defogged my mind, made the world just a bit sharper and more bearable. Thomas laughed as I refilled my cup a third time, with me muttering some nonsense apology as I did so.

"Didn't sleep well?" he asked, tending to the pancakes.

"I wouldn't say that. It's just...it's a lot bigger of a bed than I am used to. And softer, too."

Everything here is a lot different than I'm used to. One glance around, and it isn't hard to discover that I don't belong here. I stand out like a weed amongst roses, especially when compared to Thomas. He merged so effortlessly, the endless fields accepting him back into their arms without so much as an apology. And I was left standing there, staring at the boy who escaped.

But I'm honestly trying not to dwell on that.

Instead, I glued my attention to that easy smile that danced across his face, awakening that vicious swarm of butterflies within my stomach. Still, after all this time, they never faded.

"Don't tell me you actually like sleeping on that rock we have at home?"

I paused mid-sip, for something relaxed in my shoulders just to hear him utter that word. That even though we were standing directly in the center of the palace of his past, our tiny apartment wedged haphazardly in New York is what he considered his home. I smiled into the mug, before taking yet another sip of the coffee, which Thomas had prepared for me exactly the way I like it.

Black. Bitter. Its natural flavor still intact and not polluted by sugar and cream. The way God intended us to drink such a beverage, such a luxury.

"Yeah. It's comforting. Do you?"

"God, no," Thomas returned, his head falling back in a laugh. The sound was rich, sweet, and it bathed the room in such a relieving melody that I couldn't help but smile. He flashed me the widest grin I had seen from him in quite a while, before turning back to the oven and checking on the bacon once more. "It hurts my back, if I'm being honest."

"Well, don't be honest then."

He gasped, in over-dramatized fake shock that never failed to elicit a smile from my face, especially when coming from him. It melted my heart to see him this happy, this at ease after the storm had passed. "You'd rather I suffer in silence then confront you?"

"If it means sleeping on a bed that doesn't cave in whenever you lay on it, then, yes. I do."

"Wow," Thomas said, shaking his head. "You're addicted to that bed, Alexander. Perhaps it's time I staged an intervention." He paused, glancing at me as I finished the rest of my coffee. "Perhaps not as addicted as you are to that coffee, though."

"What can I say? Coffee is my one true love." He turned to me, crossing his arms. "What?"

"You're an ass."

The word, coupled with his absolute deadpan delivery, caught me completely off guard. It seemed so wrong coming from him, yet so right at the same time. And I laughed, almost falling off the stool as the joy gripped my body. One night spent lounging under the Virginia sky, and that is all it had taken for the pureness of the air to fill his body, to return him to the way things always should have been. That's all it had taken to reveal the beauty and the joy lurking underneath the fear that had once corrupted him so completely. And I would never be thankful enough to see it gone.

"What do you think so far?" Thomas asked, as he served me a plate full of bacon and eggs and pancakes emanating a smell so savory I could already feel my mouth watering in anticipating greed. He refilled my mug wordlessly, and I stared at him as he did so, mouth falling open.

"What?"

"I love you," I whispered.

Thomas glanced down at the mug in his hands, as though he hadn't even realized he had grabbed it, and softly, he laughed. "I love you too," he said, offering it back to me. "But seriously. What do you think? It's not too much, is it?"

"It's a beautiful house, Thomas," I said between bites of pancake. I gasped as the taste washed over me, as the texture of the fluffy flour flooded my mouth. And perhaps, now I could die a happy man, for my life had officially become complete. "I cannot believe you actually grew up here."

Thomas shrugged, dribbling more of the batter onto the sizzling pan. "My family's lived here for generations, I guess."

I gazed around at the house. At the astonishing Parisian architecture, at the huge windows allowing the orange light to pool through, at the granite countertops and high vaulted ceilings of the kitchen. And from where I sat, on a stool at the countertop opposite of where Thomas worked, all I had to do was turn my head to see the window built into the back wall, revealing sweeping fields and rolling hills, colored a rich, emerald green bathed in orange with the rise of the sun.

"It's like a manor."

"Okay, don't be dramatic," Thomas said as he kissed the top of my head. "That's my job."

Even Thomas's bedroom, though meant for a child, had been much bigger than anything I had ever been used to. This might be the biggest house I have ever stepped inside. It dwarfed me, somehow making me feel smaller than I already did.

But I could feel Thomas's happiness radiating off of him, fueled by every step he took and every breath he inhaled. Every sweet memory that came whispering back to him just as long as he existed within the towering walls of the house. He had barely slept at all last night, practically bouncing with excitement as he introduced me to every single corner of his childhood bedroom. Well, more particularly, the books sitting upon his shelf.

I hadn't minded, of course. I was just happy to see him happy.

It was a beautiful place. And he seemed to fit right in. And part of me wondered if he had ever truly left this house, for as casually as he fell back into it. It embraced him, and he seemed to embrace the ranch right back. But I wasn't jealous of a house, okay? It just...it just amazed me, how suddenly he seemed to ease back into the world. Like the version of himself I had known a hundred years ago.

"Thomas. Thomas. These eggs are delicious," I said, shoving another forkful into my mouth. Anything to stop thinking about the past I had never been apart of, nor would I ever get to see outside of small vignettes and moments trapped forever behind photographs.

"Well, they're free-range. I got them this morning." He sighed. "I never realized how much I would miss my chores, actually."

"You own chickens?"

"Well, yeah. And the herbs are fresh, too!"

"It's fantastic."

Thomas grinned. "Well maybe, Alexander, this is where you belong?"

"No. Absolutely not."

"You sure?" he asked, tilting his head at me with a glimmer of light sparking in that gorgeous brown gaze of his, that spark of teasing, that spark of love. "We might make a farmer out of you yet—"

"Well—" I began, but a huge, booming bark cut me off. I froze in instinctual terror as the dog came running through the halls. And to my surprise, Thomas dropped to his knees and held out his arms and the dog rushed towards him and didn't bite his face off.

"Who's a good boy?" Thomas said in his adorable baby-talk voice. "Who'sagoodboy? Yes you are! Yes you are!"

I watched with interest and amusement as Thomas played with the giant border collie. The thing was massive, but it swooned for the laughing, grinning Thomas, just as I did.

"Oh I missed you too! Yes I did! You're the only reason I came back, Ram! Alex! Come pet Ram!"

"No thanks. Not much of a dog person."

"You don't wanna meet my abominable little animal?" he cooed as he pet the dog.

"Now that you mentioned it? No. Absolutely not."

Thomas shrugged. "Suit yourself!" He stood up and opened the backdoor, letting the giant dog run off into the giant fields Thomas called a backyard. "Nervous?"

"Yeah. A little bit," I admitted, amusing myself with Berlioz, who was investigating a salt shaker sitting on the counter. I scratched behind her ear, trying to focus solely on her soft purring as she arched her back. Dick sat on the countertop as well, trilling softly as he watched Thomas. I scooped him up carefully and set him on my shoulder, delighting in the way the bird curled against my neck, as though he loved me as much as he worshipped our Thomas.

"Don't worry. They're going to love you, I promise. But if Martha asks you if you wanna hold Silky, say no."

"What?"

"Just trust me and say no." He turned back to the pancakes.

"What, no cool pan flips or whatever?"

"Don't be stupid, I'm not that cool."

I laughed lightly, stood up, and walked over to Thomas, wrapping my arms around him. "I think you're cool." He was humming softly, and I couldn't help but smile. His chest vibrated against mine like our synchronized heartbeats, and he melted in my arms, and I pressed my lips to the back of his neck, leaving a constellation of kisses against his skin, much to his delight and laughter.

"Alexander, stop! I'm trying to make breakfast!" he said, laughing.

"Sorry for bothering you with my affection," I returned, mock-pouting. I let go of him and returned to the counter, petting Berlioz. "Besides Silky, is there anything else I have to worry about?"

Thomas shook his head and smiled. Of course, I know I didn't imagine the way the smile flickered after a few seconds, as if there was some hidden worry tugging at the joy, pulling it down underneath its weight. But I didn't press it, for Thomas would talk to me when he was ready. And for now, he seemed quite content preparing the feast that was supposed to be breakfast.

"So, when do I get to take a look at your baby pictures?"

"Hah! Not happening, my friend."

"No? Never?"

"You'd have to kill me first." He paused, as if considering it for a moment. "Actually, that doesn't sound so—"

"No!" I exclaimed as he started to laugh.

"Jesus Christ. Tone it down with the yelling, will ya?" drawled a voice, distinctly feminine and only vaguely unfamiliar. There was something similar about it too, perhaps the elongated vowels that stemmed from sleepiness, perhaps the pitch and the volume. Same sonorous syllables, and the same inflection like the sound of honey slowly being poured.

I glanced over my shoulder at the newcomer, a tall woman in her twenties, perhaps a bit older than us, but not by much. Her eyes were mostly closed, as if not yet ready to take in the world and the weight of it all, not so early. Same skin color as Thomas, short hair pulled into a bun. She wore a tank top faded by time and sunlight, and shorts that reached about her knees. "Mm," she said. "Something smells good."

I looked back at Thomas. His smile grew more reserved as he leaned against the counter. Hesitating for one second more, he let out a sigh and said, "Hey, Jane."

The older girl—Jane, I guess—seemed to wake up immediately at the sound of his voice. A small smile broke over her face as she took him in. "Well, well, well. Look who came back. Honestly, I should have figured. Mom never makes anything that smells this good."

Thomas shrugged, and though his smile never wavered, it was clear he was still unsure of himself in a multitude of ways. "Well, what can I say? I suppose I'm just a cooking prodigy."

"Yeah, uh huh. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Okay, well, I'm smarter than you, so..."

"Uh uh," she said, shaking her head as she approached him. "We're not doing this now."

"Why not?"

Jane hugged him. She didn't ask, she didn't wait. She pulled him into a hug and pressed him close to her, then slid away less than three seconds later, before it could become awkward. Thomas gazed at her fondly, and I curled my hands into fists as I stared at my plate, knowing that this was yet another thing that belonged to him, something I would never have understood. It felt wrong, to be here, when this obviously seemed so...familial. And regardless of if I saw Thomas as the only family I had left, I doubt he saw me the same way.

"Dang," she said, slightly wistful, slightly not. "You're all grown up." A small smirk tugged at her lips as she regarded him. "Still short though."

"Short!" exclaimed Thomas. "I am not short!"

"You're shorter than me, therefore you are short."

"No way! I'm just as tall as you are!"

The older girl set her hand on top of Thomas's head, squishing down his hair, and dragged it across to her. "Short," she said, her hand at her forehead.

"Hey, what happened to not doing this now?" Thomas returned, rolling his eyes as he glanced at me, a small apology hidden in his gaze. He pushed her away, back a few steps.

"If he's short," I started, standing up and joining them. "What am I?"

The girl looked at me, her eyes pooling with interest. "Oh! You do have a friend, Thomas!"

"Friend," Thomas echoed, mostly to himself. "Perfect description of our relationship right there."

The girl rolled her eyes. "Jane Jefferson Jr., but you can call me Jane or Jay-Jay," she said, holding her hand out to me.

"What, you don't want us to address you as Sergeant Jefferson?"

"It's Master Sergeant Jefferson, actually. You can call me that if you want but I'm on temporary leave so..."

"Alexander Hamilton," I said, taking her hand, slightly unsure of what I was doing. Part of me wondered, just as I always did, if I was really supposed to be here.

"This is my oldest sister," Thomas said for clarification.

"Well, it's nice to meet you—" I began.

"Wait! This is the Hamilton kid you talked so much about?" she asked, eyeing Thomas. "I thought he was, like, a fuckboy or something. He's actually kinda cute!"

"I'm not cute!" I spat out the word like it was a bitter taste on my tongue.

She rolled her eyes while grinning and turned to Thomas. "I thought you'd be—"

"THOMAS!" squealed a voice, and Thomas's legs were suddenly attack by two small shapes.

"Anna!" Jane scolded. "Keep it down! Mom'll kill you if you wake her up!"

The little girl, Anna, I suppose, hugged Thomas tighter. "You can't shut me up!" she exclaimed. "Viva la revolución!"

Thomas looked so proud.

"I'm genuinely surprised you even know what that means," Jane shot back, crossing her arms. I smiled, mentally preparing myself for the oncoming storm of chaos to rain down from the heavens above. Thomas shot me an apologetic glance, but I wish he knew that he didn't need to. That he had nothing to apologize for. That everything was okay, and that I was happy to be here as long as he was, regardless of what comes next.

Anna stuck out her tongue at her older sister.

Peek siblings, I suppose. Not that I would really know, but Thomas seemed to ease right back into it, like this is where he's always belonged.

"As much as it pains me to say it," Thomas said as he pried the little boy off of his leg. "Jane's probably right. Y'all know what Mom's like before breakfast."

Y'all. Damn.

"How would you know?" the little boy asked, voice pitched high. "You haven't been here in, like, forty years."

"Randolph," Jane warned.

Thomas shrugged. "Some things just don't change. You'll understand when you're older."

"Eww," Anna said. "You've went to New York and you think you're so much smarter than the rest of us, huh?"

Thomas frowned. "I don't think I'm smarter than the rest of you." A pause. "I know I'm smarter than the rest of you."

"Is that Thomas?" called another voice, and a girl who didn't look too much younger than Thomas and I entered the room. "Oh eww. It is. Grooooss."

"Missed you too, Lizzy."

She grinned and joined the growing gathering of Jefferson children.

It's quite the rabble.

"So," Jane said as she fell into place besides me, watching the newcomer Lizzy, Thomas, Anna, and Randolph as Thomas finished up with breakfast. "How do you know Thomas?"

"Oh," I said, unsure of what to say. Truthfully, I had no idea how much he had told them all about us. "We live together," I settled for. It didn't feel good enough. Certainly not good enough to explain exactly how I felt about him, exactly how light and jovial my heart became sitting here watching him laugh and smile without any conditions, any worry of who might be watching.

"And he's prepared you for this?"

"I mean, how bad can it be?"

"Well, when all eight of us are in the same room together, it can kinda be a bit much—"

"I'm sorry, did you say eight?"

"Yeah. Me, Mary, Thomas, Elizabe—oh. He hasn't told you about that yet?"

"Conveniently, he left that part out."

"Oh," she said with a small laugh. "Well, don't worry. You'll get used to it." She gazed back at Thomas, smiling. "Everybody usually does."

"Why hasn't my boyfriend been calling me?"

"Lafayette is in a committed relationship, Elizabeth."

"That fucking french fry," she hissed. "Men these days. Can't expect them to be loyal to their women."

Thomas rolled his eyes and continued to talk with his siblings, and one by one, three other girls trickled into the room. They became absorbed in conversation about— you know what, you don't want to know— as they set the table for breakfast. Tradition seemed to fall over them as they did so, and it made me wonder how often this happened so many years ago. It seemed that I was mostly forgotten about, but I was okay with that, as I mostly just wanted to watch Thomas and his siblings.

Thomas introduced them to Dick and Berlioz. The older girls didn't seem too pleased with the bird's name.

But it was nice, I suppose, sitting there like a silent observer. Thomas laughed. He joked. He smiled. It was not the same boy I had known just a few months before, and, frankly, I could never be happier. I loved seeing him smile.

So, of course it seemed quite sudden, the silence that immediately fell upon the room. All eyes turned to the shape silhouetted by the sunlight pouring in from the windows of the main hallway. Reverent, careful. As the silence seemed to lengthen, Thomas seemed to shrink as he took in the person before him.

She was shorter than Thomas, her skin significantly lighter too. Her face was lined with wrinkles, but the kind that signified a life filled with happiness and smiling. She watched Thomas and his siblings with a placid smile that carried a sort of wisdom to it, but it didn't quite meet the sadness that gleamed in her eyes. She leaned against the doorframe as she watched, like a guardian, like an overseer. She seemed to be the center of it all, for the world ceased moving in its forward progression, turning all of its attention and love towards her.

Thomas straightened, his jaw clicking. His fingers slowly squeezed mine, as if searching for support. I squeezed back, offering the comfort he needed. And slowly, his shoulders lost their stiffness, his eyes lost their worry.

The woman nodded. "Are you going to come here?" she asked, her voice soft but demanding some level of respect. "Or are you just going to stand there?"

Thomas lowered his head and walked slowly over to where she was standing.

"Here we go," murmured the other one of his two older sisters. I think she was Mary, but I'm not sure.

"Hi," Thomas said gently.

"'Hi'? That's it?" asked the woman, her tone humorous and teasing. "No 'I missed you'? No 'it's so good to see you again'? No 'I'm so sorry'? Just 'hi'?"

"I made breakfast," he offered.

"Lord above," she said, a small laugh lifting her voice upwards.

"I—" Thomas started, but he was cut off as the woman pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry, Mom," he said. "This is all my fault, I should have— I— I never meant—"

"You're here now, aren't you?" she responded. "Look at you! You're so tall now! You're an adult!"

"Physically, maybe, but certainly not mentally," Thomas returned, a confident grin appearing on his face as they shared a laugh.

The woman—his mother, in all of her glory—surged forwards and wrapped her arms around him. And for a moment, it might as well have been like nothing else existed to them. Like nothing else mattered but the person standing before them. I couldn't help the smile that worked itself to my face, just to see him exist there, in a state of happiness. As if he's finally been completed. Laughter echoed down from the vaulted ceilings. And there was nothing else to explain it, nothing else that was needed to make sense of it all. 

I wanted to watch more, when suddenly, a voice beside me said, "Well hello there!"

I turned to look at her.

"I'm Elizabeth. And you are?"

"Alexander."

"Well, Alexander. It's very nice to meet you."

"Pleasure's all mine."

"Oh! Well you're certainly very sweet."

"Why thank you."

"I'm assuming you're a friend of Thomas? And not some random stranger who wandered into our house?" she asked, tiling her head as she regarded me.

"Yeah. Thomas and I are, uh...friends."

She nodded, watching me closely.

"You actually put up with him?"

"Yes, I do."

She frowned. "Huh. Imagine that." Then, she grinned at Thomas, who was watching us very closely with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

"So..."Jane said as she grinned at Thomas, a devious look in her eye that could only be explained by some malicious thought. "Where is she?"

Thomas frowned. "She?"

"Yeah, you know!"

He shook his head. "Uh, unfortunately I don't?"

"Oh come on," said another younger sister to add to the growing list, this one by the name of Martha. "You know! Your "partner"? The one you said you were bringing home with you? The one we've never heard of before you mentioned her?"

Thomas frowned. "I—"

"I told you she wasn't real," said Lucy, shaking her head. "It seemed too good to be true. Thomas? Girlfriend? No way!"

"Girlfriend, huh?" I teased, understanding the exact same time that he did, evident by the way he clapped his hands around his mouth.

"You thought Alexander was a girl," he whispered. He started towards me. "I am so, so sorry. I didn't—"

I shrugged, unable to keep the laugh from my voice. "I'm not insulted."

Suddenly, all eyes turned to me. And for the first time, his family seemed to acknowledge my existence, like a creature dragged forth from the shadows and displayed with brilliant, vivid lights. The only problem was I had to squint my eyes against those lights, against the attention suddenly heaped on me.

"Hello," I said, a bit more awkwardly than I would have liked. It didn't help I was sitting, either. "I'm Alexander. It's uh, nice to meet you all."

Thomas left his mother and joined me at the table, sitting down in the chair next to me. "Everyone, this is Alexander, my..." Thomas took a deep breath and took my hand. He was quiet for a second, then his eyes adopted a determined expression, like he had made up his mind about something. "My boyfriend."

Silence echoed for a moment. A moment that dragged on longer than necessary, for at least an eternity or two.

And then, Mary sighed as she handed her eldest sister what looked to be a ten dollar bill, Jane grinning smugly as she accepted the cash.

"Aww, and I thought he was single," Lizzy said, frowning.

"You can do that?!" exclaimed the little boy. "You can have a boyfriend?! Mom! I want a boyfriend!"

"Don't be stupid, Randy. You can't have a boyfriend," said Thomas's mother.

Thomas's grip on my hand tightened.

Oh.

"But Thomas—"

"Thomas is an adult. You're seven."

Thomas softened and looked over at me, slightly embarrassed.

"Anna has a boyfriend!"

"What?" Mrs. Jefferson turned on Anna, who glared at Randy.

"Randolph!"

"Uhh, oops."

Mrs. Jefferson ignored the two and turned to look at Thomas. "We will have to talk though. Just you and me. And no, it isn't about him. It's the other one," she added that last part when she noticed the way Thomas stiffened.

"The other one?" Mary questioned. She turned to Thomas, who froze, even as a grin licked her face. "There's been more than one?"

"Umm...well, yes..."

"Who? Wait—it wasn't—was it?"

And there it was again, like a ghost come back to haunt us. It spilled across his face, that conciliatory, half-formed smile, a mask meant to please. It was that viciously cold smile that never reached his eyes, for something far darker existed within them. I slid my hand under the table, reaching for his, and ran my thumb down the length of his arm until I found his wrist, his palm. A reminder I was here. He didn't soften, but he squeezed my hand back.

"Who?"

"It's not...um...it wasn't Lafayette, was it?" she whispered.

Thomas blinked. "Um. No. It wasn't." He shot me a glance, almost apologetic, but I squeezed his hand again in my own sort of promise, one that guaranteed I would never leave him behind. I was here, regardless of it all, and I would stay.

"Oh."

"You guys don't seem as surprised as I thought you'd be."

"Thomas," Mrs. Jefferson said. "I'm your mother. And it's not like you really tried to hide it from us."

"Okay, but—" he fumbled.

"Do you remember—oh, God, it feels like a thousand years ago—when you were little and Lafayette's family was staying with us for a few months over the summer?"

"Yeah?"

"And you asked me why two boys couldn't get married?"

"Oh."

"And I told you they could? And the next day you and Lafayette—"

"Pretended to get married, yes, I do remember that," Thomas said, lowering his head. Then, he turned to me, and with a glimmer of true amusement in his eyes said, "Trust me, I have never entertained romantic feelings for Lafayette. I promise."

"I don't know, Thomas," I teased, bumping him with my shoulder. "The more I hear about you two, the more I start to worry."

"Is Lafayette straight?" Lucy asked, lifting her head.

Thomas pressed his lips together, trying so hard to hold back a grin that I just couldn't help it and started laughing despite it all, despite the weight in my chest holding me down, and Thomas was giggling to himself a few seconds later and it all just felt so right.

"So," Mrs. Jefferson said softly, turning to me. I shrunk under her gaze, swallowing hard. "You're the Alexander I've heard so much about." She paused, studying me, though I could not tell you what she was searching for. But finally, she smiled warmly, which seemed to be enough of a signal of her approval. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Hey, Mr. Alexander!" said Martha, her eyes lighting up.

"You can just call me Alexander if you want, that's—"

"Wanna hold Silky?" the teenager asked, and she smiled so happily. There was no possible way I could say no to this.

"Sure!"

Thomas sighed.

"Alright, close your eyes and I'll go get her!"

I was expecting a hamster or a ferret or something small and cute.

Nope.

It was a tarantula.

"Oh! Umm, she's very nice," I lied, on the edge of throwing the arachnid across the room. Instead, I handed the spider back to Martha.

"Keep your stupid bird away from my Silky!" Martha said to Thomas.

"Mockingbirds don't eat tarantulas. And Dick isn't stupid! You're stupid!"

"Your face is stupid!"

"Your life is stupid!"

"Is that really the best you can come up with?" Jane asked, glaring at him. "You're what, twenty-one? You've been away for seven years, and in all that time you couldn't come up with anything better?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Mrs. Jefferson rolled her eyes and smiled. "Alright, enough. I'm hungry. Let's eat."

Breakfast was relatively relaxed. I was interviewed harshly by Thomas's family, much to Thomas's absolute embarrassment. I tried my best to hold back my laugh as he sat there, shaking his head to himself the entire time, but it was just so damn nice to see him here, being teased and laughed at by people he obviously loved and who obviously laughed him, and even though he was trying so hard to hide it, he couldn't diminish his smile. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how deeply he pushed it down. It always poked through like the brilliant and dizzying array of stars that it was, and throughout most of breakfast, he was holding onto my arm, anyway.

"So, what are your plans for the future?" asked his mother, the ringleader of it all. In all truth, I think she did it more to see Thomas embarrassed than to actually get a sense of my character. But I would also be lying if I said there wasn't a careful edge to her voice as she questioned me, or a worried look in her eyes as she watched Thomas. It was the expression of someone who didn't understand all that there was to understand, and I knew exactly how excruciating that must feel. I could feel the tension between the two, the billions of unasked questions and half-filled in answers. And as she gazed at me, there was some sense of protectiveness in her eyes as well, in the way she held herself just a bit too tightly. "Your future career?"

"Well, currently, I plan to graduate, finish off law school, and become a lawyer."

"Like Legally Blonde!" Anna exclaimed.

"Just like that," Thomas said, nodding to her as he reached for my hair, which was distinctly not blonde. "Just like that, thank you."

"A lawyer, huh?" Mrs. Jefferson asked.

"Yes...uh, ma'am."

"Good save," Martha said, nodding in approval.

"Not a doctor, not a doctor," Mrs. Jefferson commented, looking at Thomas. "But a lawyer's good, no?"

"Mom," Thomas groaned, his face hidden in his hands. "Shut up!"

"And where are you currently going to school?" she asked me, smiling at Thomas's flustered adorableness. I set my hand on his back, rubbing softly.

"Columbia."

"University?" she repeated, her eyes widening.

"Dang, Thomas," Elizabeth teased, grinning at him. "You have a type for people smarter than you?"

"I am not smarter than Thomas," I said immediately, without even thinking about it.

"There's nothing wrong with it, okay? You go to an Ivy League school and Thomas—"

Heat rose to my face as I gripped his hand tighter. "Thomas goes to Columbia too."

Silence fell.

Thomas leaned in closer, as if trying to find safety in my proximity. "Uh, I didn't tell them."

"You didn't tell them you go to Columbia?" I asked, meant to be sarcastic. Then, when silence answered my words, my mouth dropped open. "You're serious?"

He shrugged. "It never came up. And it's not even like—"

"Hey, no. Don't even. You're amazing. Be proud of yourself. Or I'll make you, okay?"

"You'll make me?" he asked, taking a sip of his water.

"Yeah."

"You go to Columbia, Thomas?"

"Yes."

"How are you paying—I had no idea, I—" Mrs. Jefferson froze, regaining her composure. "We'll talk about this later."

"Hey," I said softly. "It's okay. You should be proud of yourself, Thomas. I know how hard you work." I squeezed his hand.

He shook his head, glancing down on his plate with a soft smile. I watched him for a moment longer, nudged him softly, and turned back to Mrs. Jefferson and the other interviewers.

"What about family wise?" asked Jane, crossing her arms.

"Oh, I guess I never have really thought that much about it. A small family would be nice, I guess."

"Want children?"

"Hey! Can we stop talking about this?" Thomas asked, completely and utterly embarrassed.

"Yeah, sure! I'd love to have children!"

Thomas stabbed the stack of pancakes with his fork very ungracefully.

"Are we getting a brother-in-law anytime soon?" asked the girl who I think was Mary.

I felt my face go red. "Well, I—uh—"

"Mary!" Thomas exclaimed, looking horrified.

"What? It's a valid question!"

"If you two get maaaaarried, can I be the flowergirl?!" Anna begged. "Please! It's been my life long dream of, like, five seconds!"

"We're not— we haven't been dating for that long— I mean, we aren't gonna— it's not like I'm saying I wouldn't like it, but it's way too soon and—"

"Wanna hear a joke about ghosts, Thomas?" I interrupted, changing the subject quickly.

"No."

"That's the spirit!"

"Oh! He's funny too!"

"Can I leave? I literally hate this."

"Aww, you love us, though," Randolph exclaimed, picking his head up from his plate where he had smashed his pancakes so they were flatter than usual.

"Well, maybe, but—" He sighed, shaking his head. It did not escape my notice, how his hands snaked across his lap, hungering to draw the blood of his wrists, and I stole them away from him before he got the chance. "Can we just stop talking about this, please?"

I reminded myself to make sure he'd taken his pills, then took a deep breath and gazed at my now-empty plate. The silence seemed a bit too invasive.

"So I heard you broke your violin. The one Dad got you," Lucy said suddenly.

Thomas opened his mouth. "I—really? That's what you want to talk about? I've been home for, like, five minutes and—" He cut himself off with a sigh, clamping his mouth shut and gazing at the table.

"Well, did you?"

"Well, I— it's not important, okay?" Thomas stood up. "I guess we're all done with breakfast." He started to clear off the table.

Mrs. Jefferson rose to help him.

"Yeah, so what happened to your dad?" I asked, turning to Jane, who was sitting on the other side of me. "I mean... I heard he died but I don't know how. Shit! That sounded really insensitive, I didn't mean it like that—"

"You really talk a lot, don't you?" she interrupted.

"You don't know the half of it."

"I like you. You've got spirit." Jane laughed. She continued, in a sad tone, "Well, I guess you should know. Dad died in a car crash seven years ago."

"Oh."

"Yeah. He was driving Thomas to a friend's house so they could work on a project or something, I'm not sure."

"Was it James Madison? Who was the friend?"

I don't know why I prickled, the way I did. But of course, leave it to James to inadvertently ruin yet another aspect of Thomas's life.

"What? Jemmy? No, he had already moved to New York at the time. Well, anyway, Dad died in the car crash and Thomas was extremely upset and blamed himself. He locked himself in his room and didn't eat anything for days. Then, when he finally did come out, he and Mom had this horrible argument. Things were said that family should never say to each other." She was quiet for a second. "Look, I'm not the one you should be telling this, and I don't know the full story. But what Mom said was so bad that it drove Thomas away. He moved to New York with Jemmy and that's really all I know."

She nodded over to the two of them, who were talking softly as they cleaned the dishes together. I tensed, but whatever it was seemed to be enough to make the both of them smile. So perhaps, it was okay enough for now.

A frown crossed Lucy's face as she leaned in closed. "What ever happened to James? Thomas and him used to be so close I—"

"We don't talk about that," I said, much rougher than I meant to. "Don't bring it up with Thomas."

"Umm, we'll do what we want, thanks," Elizabeth returned.

"Please. I'm asking you not to."

There was silence for a while.

"Alexander!" Thomas exclaimed when he had finished. "Come on, I have to show you something! Close your eyes."

"Well, uh, thanks."

"No problem," she said, staring ahead of her.

I stood up and joined Thomas as he walked outside. It didn't escape my notice how he took a deep breath of air and smiled.

Now that the sun shone down upon the world, it was much easier to see what had escaped my notice last night. The deep greens of the fields, the lake glimmering in the sunlight, the calmness of the sky as the clouds drifted past. It was a incredibly beautiful place, and I had never seen such an open world before. But, nevertheless, I closed my eyes as Thomas grabbed my hand and led me down a pathway.

"I trust you. Don't push me into a snake pit please."

"Welp. There goes that plan."

"Thomas!"

He laughed. "Liking Virginia so far?"

"A lot different from what I was expecting. Your family is wonderful."

"I'd hold off on calling them wonderful just yet. You've known them for half an hour." He sighed. "And I'm sorry, about all the questions and—"

"It's okay, Thomas! I love your family already, and they make you happy, and that's the only thing that matters to me! I'm just glad you're happy, love."

A moment passed, but I presumed he was smiling.

"Are you alright? I saw how you got a little tense. And you had every right to. But is there's anything you wanna talk about?"

"I don't know. It just crept up on me all at once." He held my hand tighter, playing with my fingers as we made our way down the path. I'd love to see where we were going, though. "But I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"You took your pills this morning?"

"I—I forgot. But I'll do them as soon as we get back inside, I promise."

"That's all I ask for."

He was quiet for a moment, no doubt relishing the fresh air and the calm, morning breeze that drifted in upon us. Funny, how similar it felt to a breeze in New York.

"Thanks for coming with me. It really means a lot."

"Small sacrifices are easy to make for the people you love."

Since my eyes were closed, I couldn't see his reaction to that, but I hope it was a good one.

"Wonder where you heard that from."

"The most amazing person in the world."

"Oh? You heard it from yourself?"

"Thomas—" I warned.

A few moments later, and the scent of hay and something... less pleasant... hit my nose, and I could hear the sound of cows.

Were we in a barn?

Were we going to fuck in a barn?

I mean what.

"Alright, Alexander, you can open your eyes now," Thomas said after a second.

I opened my eyes and utter disappointment swallowed me when I saw what Thomas wanted to show me.

"Her name is Moolinda."

"Moolinda. Moolinda the cow."

"Exactly! Well, Alex. Still think cows are romantic?"

"She is the epitome of romance. The most beautiful creature I've ever seen. She makes me want to write a poem for you and take you out on a date to a five star steak restaurant and treat you to ice cream afterwards."

Moolinda, very appropriate to her name, mooed.

"Really? Alexander? Steak and ice cream? In front of a cow? How insensitive!"

I rolled my eyes and pulled him down into a kiss.